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Genevieve Jan 2017
Drunken admissions,
Confessions, decisions, and statements
Can they be trusted?
Because some would argue that
Drunk words hold true meaning,
But drunk actions lack thought.
So which is it?
Is it either?
Because your pattern of opening up when drunk
Has me doubting your promises.
You don't think she's a bad person,
And it doesn't make it easier.
You like her
And she's like you
And that's what makes it easier.
Genevieve Jan 2017
I know I chose this
I put myself here,
Chose to walk this path
Instead of all the others.
I could still be your best friend
You could still be mine
I could pretend to have casual *** with you
If only to have those still moments in the dark after.
Instead I chose the alternative.

No more smothering you in hopes,
Expectations we'll never live up to,
And affection you don't want.
No more fighting over who gets the outside of the bed,
Or whose fault it is that I take too long in the shower,
Which position to fall asleep in.
Little spoon.

They keep telling me this is right,
This is what's best for the both of us
Since we two are in different life chapters.
(I claim chapter 46,
when Woodpecker tells Leigh-Cherie
that Love is the ultimate outlaw)

The rift I conceived when I pushed you away
Holds nothing but echos
Memories.
They tell me it's time,
But I don't need to make room in my life
When I already found my person.

I want to tell you all of it
Every syllable I could summon up
To explain
But all I can muster up are fighting words


**And *******,
I miss you.
Genevieve Jan 2017
Here I am
Still hanging on every word


Even after the floor dropped out from underneath
When this is all over, will you still even want me for a friend?
Genevieve Jan 2017
Desperately searching for that gold,
The treasure beneath the surface
Chiseling away with nothing but bare hands
Ripped and torn from the climb to get here
Making patterns like paintings in the rock face
But my blood means nothing
Blood cannot claim a mountain
But being the first to find his treasure can
So I dig, pry, and chisel
Slicing away at fingertips
Leaving paintings like sacrifices behind

Desperate, I slam my hands into the surface
If the mountain will not be mine
I will be his
Strength, anger, sadness, frustration,
and love
Smash into his surface.

My hands may be gone,
But the mountain,
The mountain bleeds back.
Genevieve Jan 2017
Coward.**
You can't even cut the cord
On promises you don't intend to keep.
Drunken wishing words once spoken
Asking for time
Time to grow
But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?
Why grow up man up speak up be up own up break up
When you can just sit back and enjoy the ride?
The calendar will end it for you soon enough,
What's the point in saying it before time runs out?
And she's a smart girl right?
She'll figure it out on her own,
She might not even need you to say it.
Score.

Or how about your friend that you didn't stand up for?
No, you'd rather keep quiet
While your current and ongoing **** buddy besmirches a friend's reputation.
Why step in, none of your business,
Right?
Why risk losing good ***?

Whatever happened to vigilante justice?
Whatever happened to standing up for what was right?
So focused on physical altercation,
You can't see right in front of you the damage being done.
Don't you see that sometimes justice doesn't resemble
Dressing up in skate pads and a leather jacket?
Sometimes it just takes a sentence,
"Hey, I heard what you said about my friend,
That's not okay."

Too scared to let someone you love down,
Even when it's the whole hearted truth.
A truth you **** well owe them if you know.
Too scared to stand up for your friends in the face of ******* and ****** gratification.
A quite literal ******* coward.

What did I ever see in you?
This one was previously unlisted. I learned some things about a dear friend that really upset me, and fortunately I later got clarification that changed how I felt. So while this poem is no longer relevant to me, it still holds some catharsis.
Genevieve Jan 2017
It could have been just like any other day.
Sad, at times, numb at others.
Instead, any hope of making sense
Just walked out that door behind you.

Today is two years ago,
Sitting on the end of my dorm bed
Today is you standing in front of me,
Just got back from a party.
The lamp is on behind you,
And you're smiling down at me,
Glowing.
Today is you looking me in the eyes,
Then looking away to ask,
"Hey Evie, are you my girlfriend?"
Today is my reply,
"I don't know. Do you want me to be?"

Today it makes sense
Because your answer isn't "yes" anymore
And my reply isn't "okay, then yes, I'm your girlfriend."
Somewhere that changed forever.
Somewhere I lost, and fate laughed, and you left
And it's all over.
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