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 May 2018 Bree marie
elizabeth
please don’t lean on me
i’ll crumble beneath you
and no one is willing to
help pick me up again
so please don’t lean on me
because i can't afford
to fall down again
may 5, 2018
 May 2018 Bree marie
elizabeth
my skin is cracked
my stomach an empty sea
my mouth is dry
so sand pours out
my hands are fragile
my eyes tired of searching
my lungs have collapsed
from breathing in
the deadly scorching air
in this desert dry of love

the things we do to keep
ourselves alive and living well
are things i do not forté in
and cannot truly grasp
why eat when i taste nothing
but clay and iron and death
why drink when the water is
barren on my tongue
nothing is as it should be
in this desert dry of love

exhausted, i shrivel away
no rain of thoughts to fuel
on the hot and burning days
the downpour never comes
so nothing grows on the terrain
there is only a sandstorm
it curls around
swirling
eroding
in this desert dry of love

this desert
dry dry desert
heats me to the core
and makes me into nothing
i am but a mound of ugly
common clay once more
easily shattered
fractured
destroyed
in this desert dry of love
april 24, 2018
When I was a kid,
Whenever the word, 'Ouchy" was used, my mother would rush to my assistance.
At the age of three, I realized that every time I said that golden word, my mother would come.
So I decided to keep saying it.
I craved my mother's attention.
I would scream, "Ouchy" as if I had just lost a finger.
She would run to me and I would only smile.
"Only kidding* I would say.
But see, now I realize that that's gone.
It wont be coming back any time soon.
See because now I'm on my own.
I look out the window,
see how the sun and the moon revolve around each other.
like a budding friendship,
swayed by the moon,
where the sun is hot
and the moon is bright.
Just like the way my mom used to make me feel.
The more I've grown
the more I realize,
hell, I need my mother
Because now if I say Ouchy!
no one gives the slightest bit of a ****
When I was young,
when responsibilities where irrelevant,
when "ouchy" was my call-sign
I abused it. I abused that time.I used it for personal gain.
Now, I'm a nobody.
Doesn't feel good now that I'm an average citizen.
I have a story,
I used to tell my mother "ouchy" for her attention.
But so did the other hundred people behind me in the welfare line.  
Now, average faces in these average places are meaningless.
I walk the same streets I did when I was a kid, hand in hand with my mother.
With her, every pace seemed to be an adventure.
With her, every place was a new sight, even if I had been in the pizza shop a billion and one times.
So now I stand in the very same pizza shop
standing on the same tile floors
with the same smell of rising doe and pepperoni dancing in the air.
Walking in,
I wasn't paying attention and shoulder-checked the door
and felt myself whisper "Ouch"
Amazingly enough,
mom wasn't there.
She didn't **** out of the clouds, with an epic crash as she executed a perfect landing, her cape flowing in the wind.
No, instead, as a tear hit my cheek,
(because I did hit it hard)
No one even looked back.
Instead I just waltzed straight in.
Ordered my childhood favorite pizza
(pepperoni & mushrooms)
and took it home.
Couldn't help but to keep whispering, Ouchy, Ouchy
It felt so weird to say it again.  
Even weirder
To simply have no one respond
So this is just a weird way of saying
thanks mom, for covering my every ouchy
even if,
they *weren't real
To Mom
Make me see
*just how eternal love can be
No one wants to play with a broken toy
no one wants to be with a broken boy
Time is short,
*so just keep living
It’s amazing,
The places you learn to navigate
*in the dark
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