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 Mar 2017 1487
Megan Grace
when i was little i wanted to grow up
to be a tree, did i ever tell you that?
there was an oak tree next to my house
and i loved her like she had given me
my skin, used to plant tulips at her feet
and sing to her on the coldest days
of winter so she would know i hadn't
forgotten about her as soon as the first
day got shorter. i thought if i breathed
with her long enough i would learn to
be tall, learn to be sturdy, learn that wind
is nothing but a momentary nuisance.
i would stand at her base and let the sun
that rippled through her leaves paint
freckles on my nose while i reached my
arms up toward the clouds like vines,
thought i could bend and stretch and make
a home for the birds and the butterflies.

my dad always told me there is no such
thing as something that is too far away.
there are always cars, always boats and
trains and ladders. if you want something
bad enough
, he would say, distance
doesn't exist
. but an ocean. but an ocean.

sometimes i think i could feel you in my
fingertips before i knew you. like when
i was stretching up to the endless sky,
you were pulling from somewhere else. i
wonder if the me who wanted to be a home
for the earth knew she'd grow up to want
to be a home for you.
"fate is a *****"
 Mar 2017 1487
brooke
there was a wasp
outside the coffee
shop earlier this
morning trapped
in the cold, splayed
out between some
bricks, and I nudged
him with my toe,
wondering if i should
crush him or if the sun would
bring him back to life, despite
the irregularity of his nature
and I thought of you, often
lost and trapped in the cold
how I couldn't bring the sun
it just had to rise, so I stepped
aside and went to work.
(c) Brooke Otto 2017
 Mar 2017 1487
AJ
Grey
 Mar 2017 1487
AJ
I feel like a child unable to give up hope.
Come inside.
It will probably start to rain soon.
I know I'm not the best shelter.
 Nov 2016 1487
AJ
1.) Out of the one thousand and ninety-nine days that you were mine, I only regret three of them. The day Brian ***** me on that pool table, the day your dad moved back to Italy and I didn't come over, and the day you put yourself into this hellish suicide coma.
2.) If truth or dare turned two little girls into temporary lesbians, than so be it. Honestly, nothing ever tasted sweeter than you on that night on the bathroom counter at Tim's.
3.) I will grow up to be incredibly cultured all because of you. I learned to look outside the social norm after our late night dates on the roof. Getting high in your lap as you read me poetry, and played me Damien Rice's The Professor & La Fille Danse on repeat was more than enough.
4.) I always thought you were tradition and I was your French Revolution. But now I'm seeing that I was the revolution, and you were the revelation.
5.) You could not sing a single god ****** note. But the only thing I want to hear is your squeaky voice serenading me with our song right now. I promise I won't be annoyed, just finish chorus with me one more  ******* time.
6.) I would have helped you get to your father. I would have helped you. I would have set your mother on fire to avoid this.
7.) I threw up when I got sams phone call about what you had done. And then I screamed at him for an hour.
8.) I won't ask how could you do this to me, because right now I want to do it to you.
9.) Thank you for punching Brian, and I'm sorry you got fired, and I'm sorry your dad left, and I'm sorry your mom hit you, and I'm sorry that I could not kidnap you and bring you to our own private island in the middle of no wear.
10.) You showed me what star you'd become when you died, and told me that if I wished on it you would do your best. I know absolutely nothing about astrology and constellations. But your star is the one thing I find faster than the moon in every night sky.
11.) The last sip of every bottle of ***** I will ever have, will always taste like the last kiss we shared.
It's been two years, since I wrote this poem.
Two years since you died.
But I find your star in the sky every night.
 Sep 2016 1487
Marian
Flower Girl
 Sep 2016 1487
Marian
In ancient meadow yonder
She frolics with butterflies
Wearing a halo of wildflowers
*~Marian~
Written: August 25, 2016.
Dedicated to my three favorite poets:
My mom, Hilda, and my Dad, Timothy,
And also to my dear friend, Lena S!!! :) ~~~~~<3
After a long hiatus, I have returned!!!
Hopefully I can write more poetry soon!! :)
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