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 Feb 2010 Andie Lately
Ana Llanes
She used to believe in heroes.
In good people.
Change and forgiveness?
He gave her hope in all those lines.
So meaningless now.
Burned to ashes.
Though his absence is pain,
Life makes sense.
Happiness is within reach.
No more fake smiles.
She cries out of joy.
Wish to show him how little effect on them he has now.
But he's far away.
Unknown whether he breathes.
As we are to him.
His ashes are part of her.
Gone never meant forgotten.
How do you think it feels,
To have no friends in school?
It’s a feeling that to very few appeals,
Yet here I am, caught because I’m not “cool”.

The others, oh they laugh, at their tables with their friends,
While I move from seat to seat,
Listening to the laughter that never ends,
Being ignored as I sit and eat.

It is not because I am all too shy,
Or have no wish to talk.
Quite honestly, I don’t know why,
They all ignore me as we walk.

I know it’s not because I’m mean,
As I’ve had many friends before.
Maybe it’s that I’m not interested in their scene,
Or maybe it’s just my eyes are far too interested in the floor.

On the rare winter day,
I’m sitting at lunch with my class,
My eyes from my book occasionally will stray,
But only long enough to roll my eyes at some boy’s comment on passing gas.

Then the other days that I do sit,
With the grade above us,
I notice that even there I don’t fit,
Surrounded by talk of the boys on the bus.

Sometimes when I sit with them,
I try to get a word in.
But because of their constant blabbing, to silence I’m condemned,
Tapping my fingers on my shin.

As the school year goes on and on,
I try less and less to talk.
Until the year is almost gone,
And the one last attempt I make makes them gawk.

I stand by the microwave, cold pizza on my plate laying flat,
When one boy comes up and asks,
“What is that?”
I stare at him for a moment as others go on with their tasks.

Finally I respond sarcastically,
“It’s meatloaf. No, it’s pizza. Haven’t you seen it before?”
Though I think I see a tiny smile, he looks at me as if I’d done something drastically,
And just stares at me oddly while opening the microwave door.

I smile a little, thinking of how,
At my old school those words would be normal for me.
But I cannot say things like that now,
As I am not in words or deeds free.

I cannot joke without a funny look,
Or complain about math without a stare.
Because now I am expected to only read my book,
And my smile is supposedly rare.

As he leaves to go back to his table,
Without another word to me,
I think of how I’m now not able,
Truly to be free.

And then I decide from this day forward,
I will just stop trying,
To show I’m not just some nerd,
Who is perpetually sighing.

In the school I shall live in a world of quiet,
Never really showing them my true self.
While my classmates have a riot,
I will be as silent as a doll on a shelf.
Watching
observing
like social outcasts
typical and yet atypical
according to demographics.
Craving ideas concepts facts
that will/do separate us from the herd.

Lost notions of sense
seeking portrayals, refurbishing old ideals
Warping every ounce of self
simply to emulate
some long forgotten concept
which no one will ever truly understand.

The brunt of a joke yes,
The stoic face that removes you from a content moment always.

We see
We accept
Most never understanding
Reading lines casting lies
doing our selves the only justice
Of keeping "them" content

I am not social with you all
I was never to be
I can accept that
I would even claim to understand

I care for,
for some small sake
Yet
"who's?"
is the only question to astound me.
Not the for who or the good golly whys
That are blathered from the lips
of every would be philoso-phile.
More so the
"who is?"
Because in reality so many of us are not

NOT
Stopping to smell the flowers
(for the truth of its meaning)
Breathing
Feeling
Seeing
Listening
Coaching
Questioning
Learning
(or ever truly)
Knowing.
Not even i.
i won't even fathom what it is to be.
Simply out of
Respect,
Awe,
Wonder.

Do we touch sanctity
or does it only grace us with their presence?
If so does
he/she/they/it
have a name?
Could our gift remain solely
in our ability for recognition?

i Question myself in efforts
To obtain procure peruse
not in doubt.
Doubt is a by product of fear.
I shall not fear
Will you
Do they
As hard as we make it

It will forever be ourselves.
An original piece I created at the end of a chapter in my life.
Many things perplex me and leave me troubled,
Many things are locked away in the white book of stars
Never to be opened by me.
The starr'd leaves are silently turned,
And the mooned leaves;
And as they are turned, fall the shadows of life and death.
Perplexed and troubled,
I light a small light in a small room,
The lighted walls come closer to me,
The familiar pictures are clear.
I sit in my favourite chair and turn in my mind
The tiny pages of my own life, whereon so little is written,
And hear at the eastern window the pressure of a long wind, coming
From I know not where.
How many times have I sat here,
How many times will I sit here again,
Thinking these same things over and over in solitude
As a child says over and over
The first word he has learned to say.
What is love
But of our own creation

It binds us together
In our own relation

Love can't be blamed
For what's happening to me

For I love you
And you love me

The things that I'd do
Just thinking of you
Keep me awake every night
Let me hold you tight

I await that embrace
From you my dear

Please come a bit closer
So I may whisper in your ear

I cried last night
Thinking of you

Thinking of those things
That I'd do for you

Nothing is sweeter
Than love so near

That I lie awake at night
Wishing you were here

If only you'd been there
That night that I called
I wanted to apoligize
For I was enthralled

By your beauty
I found it sublime
Just like the flavour
of a sweet sweet lime

Love holds me here
Wishing you were here
Nowhere but here
Right by my side

I'm sorry I lied
I flow like the tide
Never the same
Never too tame

I shed a tear for you last night
Wishing I could find your amazing light

I shed a tear for you last night
Wishing you were here with all my might

I shed a tear for you last night
Please hold me now, please hold me tight

I'll never let go of this sweet kiss
I'll never let go of this love
I'll never let you free from my lips
I'll never forget my love

I shed my tears for you last night
Stand by me, and love me this night

— The End —