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Momo Sep 2018
She used to be full of energy, enthusiasm, and determination.
She was spirited.
She was persistent.
She was adventurous.
She used to laugh and smile.
You striped of who she used to be.
She was Pompeii and you were the eruption.
  The two of you should never had met.
You broke her when you went.
You left just like them.
Her grandfather.
Her mother.
You left.
You died.
The two of you should never had met.
You build a home in her heart.
You and your bright smile.
Your contagious laugh.
Your witty jokes.
The two of you should never had met.
I'm glad you did.
If you didn't,
I wouldn't exist.
Thank you
Don't worry about Mom.
Over the last three years the six of us have been laying new foundations.
Momo Sep 2018
I am from the ever expanding library of my imagination.
From stories that I keep re-writing in my head.
From all the things that happened a lifetime ago to the hopes and dreams of tomorrow.
From the falling leafs in Autumn to the blossoming flowers in the Spring.  
From the smells of fresh cut grass, gasoline, and pine-sol.
From countless hours with my nose in a book.
From ‘Maureen Elizabeth I swear’ to ‘one more chance’ and getting ten.

I am from the ever expanding library of my imagination.
From the endless supply of golf ***** in the basement to the mountains of unopened Pepsi.
From the non working clock on the porch to the woods with our forts.
From ‘only one’ and taking five.
From ‘don’t get that on your clothes it’ll stain’ and ‘stop biting your nails,’ a habit I’m still trying to break.


I am from the ever expanding library of my imagination
From tickle wars that always end with my hiding or crying because I’m the most ticklish person you’ll ever meet.
From older siblings saying ‘there’s someone in the house’ to scare me to ‘Fight me!’ as a joke
From the holes in the walls from sibling or cousins fighting.
From endless hours that my siblings and I would spend cleaning and being mad at Mom.
From secret discussions to sneaking around and being caught.
From our “spy agency,” to ‘Mom and Josh are coming run!’

I am from the ever expanding library of my imagination
From the yellow van always parked in the lot
From the yelling of children outside.
From the cookouts at friends houses.
From fights to forgiveness.

I am from the ever expanding library of my imagination
From the inside of my head  
From my grandfather’s house
From the books I read.
From countless hours spent with siblings
From the ruined friendships of my past to the ones that’ll last a lifetime.
I am from the ever expanding library.

— The End —