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Literature Text
When he came home that night, tittering about exaggeration with a partial stutter in his voice, I knew he wouldn't make it past six months. What I didn't know is how he'd prove me wrong and live two more years. Hope left mile-long stories on his face, and every time he got a new test result back he made me wish for one more day.
It was three-forty eight when I watched them roll his half full-of-life body into the ambulance, the wheels groaning with each shift in the concrete terrain. I botched my small steps and ended up tripping over every word he mumbled. Even with heavy anesthesia from earlier that morning, he still managed bisected jokes that made me smile.
I tried not to picture the ambulance racing down overcast streets or hear the fake it's going to be okay voices from the EMTs. He squeezed my arm and I remembered the first hospital run, the first of countless trips.
"You can't die on me."
I wanted to press my hands into him and carve out the disease as if he was on an operating table. Visions of pulsating arteries and the sickly things growing inside him were all I could bring myself to think of.
"I want you to be okay," I whispered, giving into my tears.
Then, he looked at me, with the eyes of a thousand loved-ones and a heart filled with love for a million strangers, "And maybe it'll be okay to die."
His fingers managed to find my hand and I felt his pulse vibrate against my skin. I couldn't bring myself to look at his charts again; I didn't want him to die.
His smile was a sunburst as he spoke, "But it's better to live."
"It is better to live."
It was three-forty eight when I watched them roll his half full-of-life body into the ambulance, the wheels groaning with each shift in the concrete terrain. I botched my small steps and ended up tripping over every word he mumbled. Even with heavy anesthesia from earlier that morning, he still managed bisected jokes that made me smile.
I tried not to picture the ambulance racing down overcast streets or hear the fake it's going to be okay voices from the EMTs. He squeezed my arm and I remembered the first hospital run, the first of countless trips.
"You can't die on me."
I wanted to press my hands into him and carve out the disease as if he was on an operating table. Visions of pulsating arteries and the sickly things growing inside him were all I could bring myself to think of.
"I want you to be okay," I whispered, giving into my tears.
Then, he looked at me, with the eyes of a thousand loved-ones and a heart filled with love for a million strangers, "And maybe it'll be okay to die."
His fingers managed to find my hand and I felt his pulse vibrate against my skin. I couldn't bring myself to look at his charts again; I didn't want him to die.
His smile was a sunburst as he spoke, "But it's better to live."
"It is better to live."
Literature
Dear justagirl
Dear Justagirl,
I've been meaning to write this to you for quite some time. I've always wished that I could make you see just who you really are. But you never listen. So maybe you'll hear me in this letter to who you claim to be.
You're not just any girl. Not at all. Your silence brings beauty to the words of others. Your words crack open the things left unsaid, and shine light on all the places few dare look. You have a way about you that whispers of a majesty, and yet you always hold others up beyond yourself.
Your eyes could scratch past the surface of the "he
Literature
I Can Hear You Breathe
Do you know how it feels,
To have your breath taken away?
That's how I feel when I'm next you,
I feel it every single day
Do you understand what it means,
To share your love, life, and dreams?
I wish and I hope that you do,
But it feels like you don't see anything...
When I'm standing...
Next to you...
I can hear you breathe...
But you don't look at me!
(There...is only you...)
I am standing right next to you!
But I'm the one you see through!
(For me...there is only you...)
I wish that I could make you see,
But I am not allowed to choose!
(There...is only you...)
And I can hear you breathe...
Love only works out,
If it is
Literature
wish i was worth it
please don't need me.
my skin prickles and i shiver
under crowded carpets
breathe in,
aaahh.
i am so free tied
falling over gin mouths
and crystallized fingers
transmitting futures
under my eyelids.
you like me to be there
to hurt for you
'cause i'm worth no more than that
and i guess i should say i'm
sorry for letting
you crawl this far under
each little nerve on my
spine but it won't help
i know i'm sorry
do you?
am i weak or do you,
do you love me?
can i will you let me
be more than a tool, an absorber of the
fears falling from your tongue?
i wish i could be more
than one little girl
in a collage
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Because it hurts, because I can't bear to look at it anymore and because it's going to be okay.
I don't like anything I write.
BUT. I love you.
I support #dALinkSystem!
'terminally ill' by ~CharlotteDeSmith
BUT. I love you.
I support #dALinkSystem!
'terminally ill' by ~CharlotteDeSmith © 2010 - 2024 HugQueen
Comments213
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Overall Vision Originality Technique ImpactThis piece is built on emotion. It's apparent from the first two sentences alone, which build the character for the rest of the work. It's astounding how hopeful you make the reader with those first two lines.
I like how the piece goes from a "present" scene to a clip of the past. The switch in events makes your point from the first two lines more poignant, and the reader understands the hope that you've described. There is so much love in these lines, as well; these two people certainly have a distinct connection.
Just a few random notes: I'm left a little confused as to what his condition is. You've alluded to "a partial slur in his voice," which makes me think he's an alcoholic, but other descriptions (such as "sickly things growing inside him") make me think that this is something more. If you wanted readers to know clearly, you might consider looking at that.
The last two lines are also a little jolting. While they are definitely needed to make the final impact for the piece, it's a little confusing to be brought from that past moment into the present without a little segue way. Maybe you could end the first section of the present with a little piece of dialogue, so that the end two lines sound like the conversation is continuing?
These are just suggestions, of course, dear. You've done a lovely job (as always) writing this. <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/h/h…" width="15" height="13" alt="
" title="Heart - "/> <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/b…" width="35" height="21" alt="
" title="Here's a kiss for you, my love! - "/>