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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Entropy is a Bitch.dots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: Derrick Thomas
    ASL Info:    24/Male/Alabama
    Elite Ratio:    4.11 - 21/59/39
    Words: 371
    Class/Type: Prose/Serious
    Total Views: 643
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 2026



    Description:
       I liked the sound of it.


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsEntropy is a Bitch.dots
    -------------------------------------------


    We ran outside to see the them. A huge flock fluttered deep in the sky.
    A demon sea cried beneath them. The waves claimed a few. Cry for the birds.

    The sun then exploded. Kick me some cool water out your bath, sweet bird. Die in inferno, and wake up wishing you hadn't.

    Mother cried over her sins. It's the sound she makes when her little fingers break.

    Red fire birds, crying flame tears. The flyers are all on fire.

    We hate real dreams.

    (Janitors cry the best.)

    We hate what we love. A dead bird arrived, still aflame and clinging to its instincts. Ate my skin.

    Forgive me, sweet bird. I've pissed in your fountain.

    Only the useless are sweet. Lean on a tree and let it grow around you. I don't want to see you anymore.

    And I lie there and die. I watch the sun sink into the horizon. Amazing. I pray for one more.

    Thoughts rot away when you die.

    I still had one left. I thought of her eyes. That girl, god, you could see the universe in those eyes.
    My own personal parallel universe to escape into, to get lost in, or to wait for.

    My head fell to the left. Those eyes were still there, but the universe had left. Entropy is a bitch.

    I crawled a bit. One last hug for my poor soul. Death doesn't squeeze back.

    Trees were falling in my forest, but only I could hear them. That made me chuckle.

    So I turned to my back. I hoped and regretted and hated and waited. When it came, I wasn't aware.

    In the end, he still died. Hope only helps the lucky. He pulled open those heavy lids for one last glimpse, but the dust burned his poor eyes.

    It was worth the effort.

    A million breezes blew by.

    The marionettes filed through, and one kicked at him.

    Still dead.




    Submitted on 2010-12-13 05:10:38     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

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    ||| Comments |||
      Sounds like, a child leaves an abusive home or gets kicked out young age. Just to be afraid of anything that makes them think kindness is weird and untrustworthy? Then comes back to the abusive parent just be comfortable by it, cause that child thinks that abuse from the parent is love?
    | Posted on 2010-12-13 00:00:00 | by cripto | [ Reply to This ]
      This is a poignant and sweetly melancholy piece. It is slightly halting, but that lends a personality to this that makes it unique.

    "(Janitors cry the best)"
    That is an interesting thought, but a good one. One that rings true.

    "Only the useless are sweet. Lean on a tree and let it grow around you. I don't want to see you anymore."
    I don't know why but this speaks to me.

    I av no technical comments, only love for the prose.
    | Posted on 2010-12-13 00:00:00 | by blu_kittin | [ Reply to This ]


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