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tired of letting you down
tired of making trying to make you proud
tired of trying to make you smile
tired of trying to make it
tired of living like this

i do not exist for you
i am mine and mine alone
from now one
its me
not us
but me
deleting this in a bit
I do not care what people say
your whole life can pass by in six seconds
it doesn't exist;
a holographic reality

Life is a meditation
A place of oneness
A higher consciousness
Because you have to live.
A poem made from the interview quotes of the smith kids
Us
It was the middle of summer
When we first met
I fell fast and hard
And yet

You never saw it
Ignored it, rather
I did everything I could
To make us matter

But your eyes were set
On that perfect little miss
And by the end of summer
You had your first kiss.

I'm crushed,maimed
Seriously injured
Crucio-d,if you will
I knew I was never yours
But it hurt you

Led me on
You knew how I felt
I was your friend
But not friend enough

It's summer again
I'm healed on the outside
But there's a blade with your name
Piercing my heart

Every single day
From the first day we met
All awkward and weird
I felt a sense of.. Something
Growing within

You were in all my classes
My partner for everything
The pull became stronger;
We were closer than anything

Crazy,weird,fun,
But true
The friendship we have
Is something refreshingly new

Now two years have gone by
And they've given me a glimpse
To the truth of true friends
I love you (platonically:P) to bits

Today's graduation ceremony
Is not a goodbye
But the end of one chapter
From the many to come by.
Dedicated to look left look right
Within the floor-less room
Of a ceiling-less chamber
Spanning top to bottom
Lies a collection.
Each strand of memory
In tiny glass vials
Trapped forever
Sealed to perfection.

Within this glass palace
These tiny glass vials
Sorted and labelled
Into many a section.
The past, the present
The thoughts for the future
Accurately categorized
According to emotion.

Within each glass vial
A wisp of thought
A caress of experience
A whisper of recollection.
Once uncorked
The memory unleashed
Arising in full might
In every direction.

Within this door-less
Window-less chamber
Alas these memories
Are bound for protection.
Trapped forever
Rusting with time
Or remaining in grandeur
Without external intervention.

One seeks the pensieve
The key to this access
Oblivious to the trap
A pure addiction.
Alas the pensieve
Binds one further to the chamber
Away from reality
No resurrection.

Within the floor-less room
Of a ceiling-less chamber
Spanning top to bottom
Lies our collection.
I remember our first kiss
The taste of wine on your lips
The sweet goodbyes in the mist
The stain of lipstick in the winds

I remember our first dance
The slow swaying of the hips
The soft sigh of utter bliss
The lullabies that we miss

I remember our first day
The small stumbles and the trips
The squeals of laughter in the ships
The secret wishes on the wisps

I remember my first tear
The look of love on your face
The new emptiness in the space
The priest's last words and final grace
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