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a word sweetest than honey
i’ve bitten in your lips
your laughter of white bronze
flying like flapping light
a slow poison of doubt
A swift nectar of grief
Flavors as give the earth
feelings as found in life

i’ve kissed you wildly or soft
as an exquisite flame
-in your rebellious mouth
that I so madly need
I have tasted with awe
an earthly & wild terrain
together with the heaven
of your feminine being

i’ve come to know you by  
your mouth just bit by bit
-its fluency of rain
its deep hunger of fire
that burns words like straw
scenting with only a kiss
time, place, dream & desire

to kiss you is to realize
with flame, with blood, with soul
the meaning of all life
the secret of the unknown
Happy belated birthday Mom,
I'm sorry it's two days late,
but I've been a bad daughter
and an even worse person.
You always told me not to go to your grave or put flowers on your headstone;
"I won't be under that ground," you'd say,
"and don't waste your money on flowers, I'll have no use for them where I'm going."
I still visit sometimes, and I do still bring flowers, but not nearly enough.
I know if I had been the one buried, you'd wear the grass down with your feet and then have the courtesy to plant some seeds.

Almost eight years later I still think about you everyday
and not a minute goes by where I don't miss you terribly.
What a cruel thing it is, to live a life where you're always missing someone.
To have so many things to say and receive no reply.

You would've been fifty seven this year.
I wonder how you would look as you got older, and sometimes, rarely, I forget what you looked and sounded like when you were here.
That's probably the worst part of it.

The first time I visited your grave was about a month or so after you had been buried,
the graveyard drowning in so much snow I actually visited the wrong headstone.
I'm sure Mr.Brown enjoyed the talk, though.
It was only after digging my bare hands through ten inches of snow and ice that I realized I was four spots down.
I then recognized your grave from the moonlight reflecting off the glass vases of yellow roses we had placed there during your funeral,
wedged in place with the snow hugging them tightly;
the roses frozen in time,
it was both beautiful and aggravating.
Good things funerals cost so much,
they should be able to have someone clean up the plot after the service.
I threw the roses out and gently tried to remove the vases:
the one with "wife" shattered in my hands and my frostbitten fingers picked each shard out from the snow.
I still carry a scar from that vase.
The one with "mother" on it remained in tact, I was just as gentle with it but it did not shatter.
You told me near the end that nothing in this world, nothing was powerful enough to ever have you taken away from me.
That vase sits on my dining room table to this day, nursing a reluctantly dying plant just as you'd want.
I don't think I'll ever have the green thumb like you did.

But I have everything else from you,
you always told me Kate was raised by your sister and that she was too much when you were so young,
"But you, Emily, you're MY daughter."
You said I was a godsend of a baby, never crying, content just to sleep,
and that I carried an old soul.
You laughed at how I always excelled at being alone as a child,
and you were so intrigued by my sense of imagination and creativity.
You always said you were the same when you were a kid.

So tell me, now that I'm older and I feel so alone all the time,
am I still you?
Were you this isolated and alien at my age now?
Did you carry the empathy to cry at little things you saw on the street or in a commercial,
so much so that you believe this world to be lost?
That you saw life as one big slap in the face?

I still try my best everyday to make you proud,
It breaks my heart constantly to think I didn't when you were here.
But life is cruel like that, and I was young and ****** and arrogant.
I know if you see my daily life,
you know I'm not 100% better,
and I know I probably never will be.
But I work hard, and I always say my "please" and "thank you"'s,
and I live by your example of always trying to help anyone in need.
It might not make up for the demons that I struggle with,
but atleast I still fight them, right?
I lost some years there where I should've died, and sometimes I wish I had,
but I didn't. I'm still here. I'm still trying.
And to be honest, it's not for me, or for my family, for love or sunsets, or dogs or any of the things that bring me up to a solid "content."

It's for you, because you taught me that's what you do in life.
You fight. You fight until your last breath.

I've thought this a million times in my head, but I'll say it now,
you were always right about everything.
As teenage girls, we challenge our mothers at every turn and decision,
convinced we are mature and capable of making decisions,
and then we say hurtful things when we don't get our way.
So you deserve to hear it, you were always right.

I wish I could tell you face to face.
I would tell you how much I miss you, more than either of us could've ever predicted.
I would tell you how blessed I feel to have had such an amazing mother.
I would apologize for judging you for the drinking,
I would tell you it took me forever to realize, but eventually I accepted my mother was human just like everyone else,
and just like everyone else, myself included, you made mistakes.
Above all else, I would tell you that I love you more than you'll ever know.

I'll be turning twenty-nine next month,
which means I have one year left of smoking.
I didn't forget my promise to you, I'll quit on my thirtieth birthday.
I'll continue looking out for my sister to the best of my abilities,
even though she can be impulsive and brash on occasion.
I'll continue to show empathy and kindness to as many people as possible, just like you would've wanted.
And finally, one day I hope to keep the promise I made to you so many years ago:
I promise to try and be happy.
Extremely personal write, but needed to get it out. If you're lucky enough to still have a mother, tell her you love her today and thank her for existing.
why am i so unlikeable
why is everything i do a mistake
why do i feel so alone
why can't i be happy
why am i feeling sorry for myself
why can't i
why am i
why didn't i
why don't i
why won't i
why
why
why.

why do i continue to live this life.

- a.g.
questions i ask myself
I never learned to make light
Alone
and you left with the light that we created
together
even through all our darkness
I'm here
there's nothing here

Since you left

Carrying with you the fire that I helped to build

how can  a heart heal while it’s still being  killed

You weren't the only one who was alone
under all this sky

Staring at its immensity

Wondering if it's open
or empty

I'm ashamed of how selfish
humanity can be

Knowing how we theorize the death of our beloved sun
simply out of  envy of its eternal luster
knowing that we grow dark and empty and eventually die

How we leave the game early when our team is down and there’s not enough time to go back and win as if now In defeat, we would be wasting our lives to stay with them until the end

I no longer want to love you
because you left me there when the coldest winds came

You left Me there

Because even though I dried your tears

I couldn't stop the years

And I couldn't stop the rain
And I stare into the heavens
Without closing my eyes;
I see
Little wonders
Tiny
dying diamonds
Skating across the frozen cirrus clouds
Just beyond cumulus nimbus mountains
High as the feet of angels.
I watched them delve into the dark
waltzing down through the Heavens
Only some will return.
The devil is resisting the
Light from the stars
He cloaks them beneath
Astrology
The stars are infinite
Wild are their galaxies
The strength of their illumination
Does not know darkness
There are no constellations
the stars will laugh at you
To think they were only shining
For you
to dream
and wish upon
While Our great cities
blot them out
with chemical dust
And inescapable darkness
Moving at the speed of greed
Our kings
all blind
And heartless
Everyone who’s ever breathed
These
Counted breaths
Have Lived and died
on the back of
An angel
The day is coming
When only a few will be numbered
And not a human number
but a number
Of God
a sum shall break
the silent universe
Into infinite tiny diamonds
Each skating across
the wretched peaks
the  blackest waves
A never-ending abyss
Every time I go to 7-11 and get a large
Red Slurpee my brain freezes
and when it starts to slowly drip
I think like this
It’s unfathomable
what you find Sometimes
in the
Creases
of a dreamers mind
I often wonder
If your thoughts wander
Along the boulevard
Of what could be
Leading out of the urban
And into the rural fields of gold
With me

© JL Smith
a flash of backwards attraction
eloquence of erupted sensation
permanence of pressing agendas
episodes of earthly silence
i could follow my mind
into oblivion
 Sep 2018 Venus in Scorpio
Syd
What if
I had fallen to my knees
On the cold parking lot concrete
Tears washing over my cheeks
And cries no one should ever have to hear
Bellowing out from beneath my ribs
Screaming at the sky
Looking up at your face
Forcing you
(and everyone else)
To see me in this godforsaken state
Of absolute chaos
Heartbreak
In it's rawest form
What if I had begged you to stay?
What if I'd told you I can't do this without you?
What if I'd told you how much I needed you
What if I did anything other than fighting back the tears
Maybe for myself, maybe for you,
Mostly for the crowd of people gathering
Saying their goodbyes
Anxiously looking around to bear witness to everyone else's reactions
And I didn't want to be that girl
That girl who falls to the ground
Kicking and screaming and crying and begging
But what if I was?
What if I was any girl other than the one I pretended to be that day
The one that held her tongue and kept her mouth shut because she knew the second she opened it to speak she would sob
The one that wrapped her arms around you for the last time,
and the one that let go
The one that couldn't bear to watch you walk away
So she kissed you goodbye
Got back in the car
And drove home
What if i wasn't that girl who didnt allow herself to completely fall apart until she was alone in the privacy of her own home?
What if instead I'd made a scene,
Doing what everything inside me so desperately wanted to
Grabbing hold of your hand and refusing to let go
Losing the facade of confidence
The charade of strength
But I'm not that girl
And I never will be
So each and every time you leave
I kiss you goodbye
I unclench my fists and retract my anchors
I untether my heart from it's human home
And I put on a brave face
Maybe for myself, maybe for you,
Or maybe
For that girl.
 Sep 2018 Venus in Scorpio
Lᴇ
Never did I imagine myself
living so lonely

That my friends have slowly become
my plants
stray cats
the stars

and the sky

I never imagined
this life
for us

Wherever it takes us
let us hear the rain
survive the heat
and cold

I won't promise
I don't hope

I just want to grow closer
over time

Make memories
for distant days
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