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Dorothy Quinn Jan 2022
The urge to run away to a seaside town,
To let the salt air peel the paint from the front of my house.

The urge to settle, to let it sink in, to decorate my front porch.
The urge to let my mind rest and work until my back's sore.

The urge to love you
And to be well.

In that salt air town,
Where everyone knows my name.
Most importantly,
The urge to throw it all away.
Dorothy Quinn Apr 2019
You forget.

You forget things
when you're truly sad.

Not the toaster on or the door unlocked,
Not the name of your ex,
Or the name of that guy you met last week.

You forget deeply.

You forget how your dog looks at you,
And how much love he deserves.
How your mum's journey was harder than yours,
and how your brothers were too young
to be treated so old.  

You forget,
How your dad is aging 10 years
in the span of 1,
And how you've not been loving
who you need to.

You forget
almost everything,
because you're trying...
really trying,
just to stay alive.

And if you're (un?)lucky enough
to crawl away from the pits
of depression...

You suddenly remember.
It SLAPS you in the face
when you're left alone with your thoughts.

"How could I be so selfish?"



The guilt,
The guilt.
The guilt of forgetting how to care for others,
Of leaving so much destruction in your wake


Enough to make you
Dorothy Quinn Apr 2016
I've stopped writing the way I used to,
because I've stopped feeling the way I used to.

I can't write the same,
my mind's changed quite a bit.  
I've gotten much older, you see.
I'm the not the same I used to be.

People are not all kind, wandering, lost souls
as I once liked to believe.
Life was happier then,

Rural dirt roads bring me quiet joy,
they remind me of my childhood
but they're not realistic, are they?  

The world cannot be all beautiful trees
and unkept dirt roads.

We must advance.
We must get used to highways and airports and cities.

They world is growing,
7 billion people, is it?
The time of innocence is gone.
Dorothy Quinn Sep 2014
Conor Oberst said
"I want a lover I don't have to love.
I want a girl who's too sad to give a ****."
And I'm sorry I think it's romantic
to be that girl.
I'm sorry I'm so bad at changing.
I'm sorry I can't love you more.
I have to leave, because the outcome of us is always this:
broken phones, empty bottles,
and endless drives at four am
when we both aren't taking
because we can't talk without screaming.

I'm sorry I'm too sad to give a ****.
I always told you I hated beginnings because beginnings have an end.
You're the most beautiful thing to ever happen to me.
This is the end.
I'm sorry.
This is an edited mix of three of my previous published poems. I wrote it as somewhat of a dedication to Conor Oberst whose music really helped me through some of my darkest times. I love when art makes people feel less alone. That's what Conor did for me. And I'm forever grateful.

It's also a poem to show how badly we treat people we love and how it's not "you don't know what you have until it's gone" it's more "you fully understood what you had, you just never thought you would lose it." I'm young, but the older I get the more deeply I understand this topic and it resonates with me very deeply.
Dorothy Quinn Aug 2014
You have every right to be scared.
They will all break your heart
and your heart is not a bone.

It does not get stronger every time.
Dorothy Quinn Aug 2014
“You are just fine.
If you are not, you will be just fine.
He does not miss you.
But your mother does.
It’s okay you ****** the guy
with the eyebrow ring.
You are alive.
You are just fine.

The world spins much too fast,
so even when there’s nothing left
convince yourself the world’s on your side.

The sun woke you up this morning.
The rain washed your car.
The darkness hid your cat
from being chased by the neighbor’s dog.

You don’t have enough money to buy that eyeliner.
No one smiled at you today.
Yes, you did **** the guy with the eyebrow ring.
But you’re just fine.
You will be just fine.”
this is in no way advice i’m urging you to take. i’m horrible at advice and my life ***** please don’t listen to me ever. don't take advice from people (more specifically, writers) you don't know and who don't know you
Dorothy Quinn Aug 2014
This is how we say goodbye.
I haven’t seen you cry since your aunt died last May.
I wish my eyes could stay dry for you.
I promise I’ll stop talking about drowning.
I don’t know how to be in love
when I only trust you enough to *******.

This is how we say goodbye.
You’re so completely lovely when you cry.
You’re not screaming you love me when I need you to.
I’m whispering I have to go.

This is how we say goodbye.
You’ll find her. She’ll have perfect hands,
and the softest voice. She’ll never date boys
who grab her waist a little too rough
and never walk her to her door.
I love her for how happy she makes you.
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