My sister just sent me a poem

Add me to the monsters
and the investment bankers,
the world will get no good from me.
I carry a memory of myself
untarnished, I carry it gingerly
in my cupped hands.
The girl inside the memory wears no armor,
her eyes look skyward,
her heart is a ripe cherry.
She is curious
about all the things
she doesn’t know.
I almost stop to think –
but no, put her away,
she is too sharp to hold,
lay aside the soft, uneaten heart
and add me to the monsters.

What does it mean to you?
(She’d like to know what you all think)


Did she write this?! It’s excellent!

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Indeed. She’s very successful but always new the upper class was a bunch of schmucks. This is her selling out though, accepting she can’t change things. Realizing the pursuit of her ambitions are inherently sustaining a system she disdains.

But I would say: To me it means standing in the world as you’ve learned it and looking back at the world you thought would be, and -

That’s perfect.
Cliff hanger intentional/rhetoric?

That’s a more precise way of putting it. Casting off of childish things, but keeping the memory of your intention safe and hidden.

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Not intentional, just stopped to read your reply midthought and it posted. Your sister is very talented. Has she published anywhere?

She writes a lot, but she’s never been published. Had a book in the works for a while, but I think she let go of that.

She travels and works constantly. She does have a company that helps people get their books edited/published.

Hah. I’ve got to find a way to condense this.

“I want to be a writer ONLY. I want to write all day, every day. It’s the only thing I do that makes me feel like there’s nothing wrong with me at all. Writing is the only time I don’t feel like an inept pilot of this little body.”

Hah. Inept pilot.

I think it’s something she should do. I was certain it was published work when you posted it.

I had the opposite experience. I wrote and it was the only thing I wanted to do, but all the things wrong with me lived right under the surface of my skin when I wrote. I was flying my plane into mountainsides. I had to let it go.

Tell her that the first lines particularly I’ve cleared a place for amongst my favorites.

Will do (15 characters(quotes should count))

“Aww, thanks to that person. I’m getting addicted to knowing how other people interpret something I wrote”

Thanks @rhubot

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Worlds shortest poem:

Titled “Fleas”:
Adam had 'em.

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