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Emma Langford Nov 2019
I
Over the smooth, black screen
the only thing moving
was her reflection in the glass.

II
She was of a thousand minds
like a distracted puppy
constantly chasing squirrels.

III
The screen suddenly illuminates
telling her she’s been summoned
from the depths of the interweb

IV
A white girl and a latte are one.
A white girl, a latte and an iPhone are one.

V
She doesn’t know which to prefer:
Apple’s reliability
or Android’s creativity.
The iPhone’s ringtones
or it’s vibrations

VI
Notifications fill the lock screen.
The beauty of distraction.
The shadow of that risky text,
the mood,
Panic, regret and slight curiosity
but wait, another notification:



VII
Oh, shallow daughter of mine,
why do you imagine you have many friends?
Do you not see that your only popularity
lies behind an electrical glow?

VIII
She knew brave souls that went boldly without.
They missed out on inside jokes and plans made
yet she wondered if it is they who are truly living.

IX
When the iPhone went out of sight
it marked the moment when the blindfold came off.

X
At the sight of phones in her peer’s hands
part of her cringes with withdrawal
while another layer of obscurity is wiped from her eyes.

XI
She walked the hallways of school with new lenses
Once a fear pierced her.
In the shadow of vulnerability,
In the want of a screen.

XII
Her focus is changing.
The screen must be blank.

XIII
It was morning all evening.
She noticed the birds singing
and they would continue to sing.
For she had learned to look through
the small box with a screen.
Emma Langford Sep 2016
Another second passes and I have to wonder why
time has a rhythm that never seems to die.
The sparrows faintly sing their internal clocks all set
but still it is the echoing tick that drowns them out of it.

Another second passes,
another moment gone.
It's something that you won't get back, a note a your life's song.

Have you done all your desired?
Have you accomplished all you wish?  
For soon your grains of sand will stop, your final mill be dished.
Your breath will be no longer, your eyelids then will fall.  Your loved ones will mourn over you and make that saddening call.

The clock will go on taking as merrily as can be. Seconds will not wait for you, but will they wait for me?
Emma Langford Sep 2016
Be careful when staring.
If you look too closely
You might make a connection.
If you look too closely
And you make a connection,
Good Luck.
Emma Langford Nov 2019
Momma always reminded me to  “Keep the forest clean” when we went up to our cabin.
“Keep the streets clean” when we went into the city.
“Find the source of the problem,” she said.
“find the litter. Once you’ve found it, clean it up and the world will be a little prettier.”
Eventually, even though I tried hard, the beaches were still too ***** for momma. She took her own instruction and found the source of the problem. She found the litter. Once she’d found that, she cleaned it up and the world was prietter again.
Emma Langford Nov 2019
The boy raced out to recess excited to hunt for bugs.
As he was looking on the playground, he spotted something strange.
A tired, overworked mad with lots of money and no love.
He looked closer so he could discover how to avoid becoming the very thing he found.
Emma Langford Nov 2019
In the beginning there was matter and God thought “What can I make out of this?”
“Let there be light” he said as he sauteed together Hydrogen and Helium.
Then the water by folding together more hydrogen and also oxygen.
Then sky came from whipped nitrogen, oxygen, argon and carbon.
“Now let them be divided. This shall be known as Earth.” He said with great wave of his hand bringing dry land into existence.
Many years later when civilizations grew and animals were domesticated, God looked at his creation and thought, “What can I make out of this?”
He desired to refocus his creation after the millions of years it had spent becoming cluttered in the oven.
To show his creation how powerful he was he sent hurricanes and droughts and war.
To show his creation how much he loved it he sent families, laughter and love.
This was his creation.
It had baked for millions of years in the dark oven and never burnt.
He found that unlike his people, his creation as not perfected with age.
Emma Langford Oct 2016
"I'll sleep when I'm dead." The young woman said as she hustled and bustled around.
She did lots of things with an obstinate mien until things began to come down.

First was her health but she pushed through, "There's still so much to be done!"
Soon her mind began to unwind like an Icarus, close to the sun.

This demonstrates a well know tale, some may hear it and weep.
For the girl who had so much to do that she died from the lack of sleep.
Emma Langford Sep 2016
You have to think about what's happening.
He wants deaths, He wants camping trips.
Think about what's happened to you.
It will create a new space.
It will hurt and you will cry
In a voice that isn't yours.
Limit these thoughts to less than 10 a day.
Like sit-ups they can make you thin.
Found Poem taken from prose of "How to be a Writer" by Lorrie Moore
Emma Langford Nov 2019
Lacking
Originality
Re-using
Every
Mark
                                    
In need of
Personality and
Savor
Undermining
My Purpose
Emma Langford Nov 2019
I’m losing it all. Slowly it’s fading, slipping. I left what I loved. I left where I was satisfied, content, and in pure bliss. Everyday felt like a dream despite the challenges I faced. I left it all in pursuit of higher goals and higher dreams. I expected the transition to be hard, but I didn't know it would be like this. I was doing fine until I saw that picture of you all the party and it all hit me like a brick wall. It swallowed me like a tidal wave on that beach we talked about surfing. It suffocated me until I was dizzy. I had left, It’s not yet time for me to depart to my destination, I haven’t gotten where I’m going yet. You stayed where I once was, and life moved on.

It’s like I’ve been forgotten, erased from your brain like a statistic on a low quality whiteboard at a company meeting where after it’s wiped away you can still see the outline of what was once there. I was once there. I threw my soul into what we had, and for a while you did too. It seems like when it was no longer convenient, you didn’t care enough to try anymore. I spent hours coming up with creative ways to show you how much I care, putting together gifts, planning activities. Yet you wouldn’t take 10 seconds out of your day to send me one text to ask how I’m doing.

You told me I was everything you ever wanted. You told me you would make distance work. You told me you would make time. Instead, you made excuses. I’d ask you how your day was and you’d respond in one word. Good. Good, I’m glad you’re good. You know what’s not good, me. I’m not good with you trying to get away with treating me less than good, Good is objective, you are not good at making me feel good, in fact, I feel neglected and ungood. You don’t care that I’m not good? Good.

4 months ago you asked for the title of “Boyfriend”, so I gave it to you and you wore it like a badge of honor as if to say “Hey world, that’s my girl, she’s mine and I’m hers, look at how wonderful life is.” You still have that title of boyfriend, but now you wear it more like a cheap, red sticker name tag that reads in the most monotone way, “Hello my name is boyfriend” in sloppy lowercase letters and a BBQ stain smeared in the corner

I’m getting closer to where I’m going. You’re staying there. Don’t get me wrong, I miss the time we spent together, There’d be nights where you’d pull me close and talk about all the wonderful things we had in store for us, and our life together. We realized the reality of our situation was that we’d be separated for some time, so you’d bury your face in my hair and whisper, “Right here, right now.” “One step at a time.” I’d reply. But those steps are quitting their pace, they’re moving away from you. If you want them to stay then boy, you’d better tie those running shoes and get moving, because once their gone, they’re not coming back. I’ll be the one that got away. You know that, your family knows that, why aren’t you doing anything about it?

They say distance makes the heart grow fonder, and I’ve believed that since I was young. Little things in my every day remind me of you and the good times we had, but instead of the joy and contentment, I once felt, it burns me like a hot stove burns a child’s hand to know that since those good days, you’ve decided I was too much work. You live in the moment which is one of my favorite things about you. You have a one track mind, that’s something I don’t like about you. Your focus is always on what’s right in front of you, If I’m not there, your thoughts don't drift my way, but if I’m there, your thoughts don’t ever drift away. School. That’s your focus, your excuse, your life. School, homework, bro time, Smash. Now that I’ve said it outloud do you realize how pathetic that is? With most guys in this situation, their friends would say, “Bro, you need a girl,” But, surprise! You have one, you just don’t care about her enough to say anything.

It’s clear we’re both learning, but our progress needs to be made in different ways. You need to get a freaking clue, and I need to get out of here. Both things allow us to grow in ways that maybe, just maybe might make it possible for us to work out when I get back. Until then, you need to open your eyes, decide if you’re going to fulfill the role as boyfriend that you begged so hard for, or not. Because if you won’t, someone else will, and to that someone I’ll be worth not only a 10-second text but their whole world. I won’t have to spend day after day wondering If I still matter to them because they won’t ever let me forget it. I won’t have to beg them to ask me how my day was because they’ll have already asked.

There’s a difference between loving someone, and caring about them. Right now I know you love me, but I’m not sure if you care. My life is moving forward, I’m moving up. I’m on a rocket accelerating so quickly if you blink you’ll miss it. If you want to be on board you’re going to have to fight for your position. This is not a given, It’s a privilege. You want it? Prove it? Not worth it? I’m gone
Emma Langford Nov 2019
Never should
One person

Sacrifice
Themselves in
Regard to an
Idiot who is a
Nuisance that
Generates
Suspicion while

Attending
To
The most
Accredited kind of
Choice
Hereafter
Edifying their
Delerium
Emma Langford Sep 2016
The tables in the cafe began to fill,
Windows had fogged.
So here you are.
You needed to get away.
You ended up here.
That was the plan:
You don't know anything.
Found Poem taken from prose of Requiem For a Broken Dream
Emma Langford Nov 2019
I miss my dentist.
I miss the smell of disinfectant in his office,
The sound of the water pick
The taste of his latex gloves in my mouth.
I miss the one-sided conversations about the philosophies of life.
I miss hearing about how his wife and his kids are doing.
The gossip about Roxanne’s new boyfriend or the new shipment of fluoride that just came in.
I miss the sound of the secretary's keyboard as she types up the report stating that
I am cavity free.
I miss him telling me how healthy and beautiful my smile is.
I miss him thoughtfully listening to my life complaints as he examines my x-rays.
I miss his advice, the wise counsel he’d give regarding my schooling or love life and the way he’d wink when he says I’m good for another six months.
But those six months couldn’t come fast enough.
Jenny broke up with her ex for the 4th time, Paul quit his job before a drug test, Sherry dropped out of college, my roommate is pregnant, Dad bought a pet kangaroo, my apartment is infested with small beetel things, I’ve only eaten ramen for the past 3 days and Cason proposed to me.
I don’t know how to handle it all.
I miss my therapist.
I mean my dentist.
Emma Langford Nov 2019
I don’t know how to say this other than I’m disappointed in you.
No i'm not angry, no I don’t hate you. I am very very disappointed.
You got me and I got you and our minds work in the same way so much so that when I can’t find the words to say what I mean you are able to articulate exactly what I'm thinking in a way that can bring my ideas into action and I thought that meant we’d be working together for a long time.
When I heard the news my eyes rolled to the back of my head and my stomach dropped so hard I thought it would hit the center of the earth.
Why?
How could you be so manipulative and take advantage of someone like that?
I thought you were better than this.
I’ve only known you for 5 months and I thought that was long enough but clearly it isn’t.
You'll never lose my friendship but in one night you’ve lost something much more valuable.
My trust.
Emma Langford Nov 2019
The bacon grease from the homegrown beans
on my lips
reminding me of my roots
The playing cards from the shrinking deck
shuffling in my hand
commanding me to be kind
The peanut brittle fresh off the pan
crackling loudly in his jaw
proving I am loved
The blueberries growing on her bush
looking into my window
prompting me to work hard
The magnolias from the glorious tree
smelling sweetly
reminding me I am home.

— The End —