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A macaroni house
Broken shell pieces
Covered in powdered cheese
Making the best of uncertainty
Would there be any
For tomorrow?
Maybe
If we can find change

Running away every week
The park out back
Behind the rickety fence
  The escape!
Strange lands to explore
Pine cone treats to eat
Mud pies and sticks
Fresh air and itchy grass

Playing restaurant
Imagining something
To give
Serving up macaroni
And cheese
Our pretending away
From our broke
In so many ways...home
Growing up we were poor financially but rich in other ways.

Inspired from reading “Missing May” by Sarita Aditya Verma
 May 2020 Chloe DeAngelis
Shrika
Looking for friendship,
Into my life came he,
Many hated him for reasons unknown,
A quiet loner, but,
Oh! So possessive.

He listened to me ramble about,
Foes and frolics,
Woes and world,
Never did he complain.
I told him everything,
But I didn't even know his name.

Ties broken and relations gone,
Everyone lost,
And I was lost in him,
But I was dying,
Fading,
Piece by piece.
His kind, blue eyes drowned me,
In reassurance.

Months flew,
Standing at the Doors of Death,
Gasping, choking,
I reached for his hand,
Realization dawned on me,
As he stood, silently smirking at me.
To consume yet another soul,
He left me dying,
In the echoes of his name-

"Loneliness"
A few memories resurfaced and voila! A poem.
(Trying to forget them)
 May 2020 Chloe DeAngelis
Empire
Perhaps I’m so terrified
That I might still be alive
I’ll do anything
To prove myself wrong
 May 2020 Chloe DeAngelis
Empire
tw self harm



Perhaps I’m starting to understand
Tonight, I want desperately
To take the blade to my skin
But only to leave a mark
A reminder
Of what’s happened today
This is a motivation I think I can talk myself down from...
In 12 days, it’ll be two months since my last cutting... I really really don’t want to give up on that progress. Not yet.
X & Y
Love chimes

Vectors of heredity
The strong staining
Of dyes

Sisters really
One the original
One the copy
It's all in the packaging

DNA
An extraordinary feat of engineering

They form books
They tell stories
But no author?
Hmmm

Come build with me
The gift of eternity
"Your eyes saw even the embryo of me, and in your book all its parts were down in writing, as regards the days when they were formed and there was not yet one among them.” -- Psalm 139:16
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