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Alex May 2020
You have the prettiest eyes.
Your intelligence makes you even more beautiful.
I love how you never get tired of my silliness.
I love that you love my humor.

When we are apart it makes me happy to think about how you'll always support me from afar.
In hard times you offer valuable insight into the eyes of a mother.

The moment you decided to have kids, you took the oath of a mother, and I will forever be grateful that it was your arms God placed me in.
Gifted to my mom along with a bouquet, a balloon, chocolate covered strawberries, and some of her favorite coffee for Mother's Day 2020
Alex Apr 2020
#5
I need to get buzzed
                              Drunk
                      ­              High
I need to erase
                     Hide
                         Disappear
I need to break
                    Crumble
                             Fall
Alex Apr 2020
#4
Uneasy
      Falling
            Tumbling
                     Continuous
                               Movement
                                          Bottomless
   ­                                                  Pain
                                                         Crashing
                                                        ­        To
                                                      ­            Oblivion
Alex Dec 2017
In the beginning, everything was normal.
He picked me up, wearing a suit and bow tie,
We drove through town in his red car.
His dark blue eyes reminding me of the night sky
When the light shown into them making stars.

I think I am in love. We keep driving.
Down the interstate ramp, going at least ninety.
Into the night we fly, town after town.
Finally, he takes an exit into a small town.

He took me to a motel, threw me on the bed.
Cut my arms open, and did the same
To what lay under my flower dress.
He stuffed me like a doll, with pieces of himself.
We stained the sheets with *** and blood.

"I'll take care of you forever," he said.
My head goes soft. I know what's coming.
He flips me to my stomach, hand around my throat,
I feel his body pressed against mine.

I claw at his arm, trying to get him to let go.
His grip tightens, my breath is nearly gone.
All goes black. As I awake I notice a red light.
And motion. He's taking me somewhere.
The motion stops, the red lights turn off.

The trunk opens, I look up into his face.
I try to speak, to ask why, but no sound comes out.
He lifts my body from the trunk, crazy in his eyes.
He whispers, "We're the same, no control."
My head lolls back, too exhausted to hold it up.

He sets me in a bed of pine needles and mud.
I watch him walk away, close my eyes.
I hear the footsteps return, open my eyes.
I am squinting into the barrel of a gun.

Bang.
I feel the life drain from my body.
My soul is floating, my mind drifting into the black.
I relax into the earth.
He waits until my breathing slows to a stop.

I have lain here for days,
The sun quickening the rotting of my flesh.
My ribcage holds dirt and weeds,
My limbs are dead and dried.

No one has come to listen to my story,
But I know without a doubt, someone will come.
They will hear me. They will help me.
They will search for answers.
I know someday justice will be served.

I will be found.
And so will he.
Just got back into writing poetry after not writing anything for months.
Alex Jul 2017
As sudden as an ocean wave, the valve in his heart gave up.
Standing at the cemetery gates I finally understood.
He is gone. He is missed.
But he is not coming back.

In the blink of an eye, he was under the truck.
Standing at the cemetery gates I finally found peace.
Peace with the truck driver and peace with myself.
Most importantly peace with God.

As the bullet hit the gun dropped from his head to the floor.
Standing at the cemetery gates I was angry.
Angry as his parents, angry at the school.
Angry with myself. But mostly angry at him.

Her car veered off the road, down the ledge and into the water but it wasn't an accident.
Standing at the cemetery gates I was lost.
I couldn't understand why this happened.
I couldn't fathom why she did this to herself.

Thanksgiving morning, metal on metal, laughter dies.
Standing at the cemetery gates I was broken.
My soul so tired, holding those around me.
One life was gone and another hung in the balance.

His father saw him drop the gun as his body fell, wanted to run and save his son.
Standing at the cemetery gates I was numb.
Numb with shock and fear and cold
During that frigid and depressing December.

You can't beat the train. He knew but didn't listen.
Standing at the cemetery gates I was empty.
So many pieces of my heart were taken during the year
I wasn't sure there was anything left.

Standing at the cemetery gates I look around at all the friends I have buried. I thought high school was supposed to be the simple time in life, but if that's the case, why did they all have to go?
RIP Mitch, RIP Ryan, RIP Christian, RIP Jenna, RIP Kyle, RIP Jack, RIP Dallas, RIP Kennedi
  Jul 2017 Alex
Leena Beddawi
There's a place called empty
a claustrophobic room
inside it tries to tempt me
my soul, it will, consume

It preys on broken people
whose hearts facile to break
their bones were made feeble
their brains made opaque

There's a depth beyond this place
it's relatively hard to find
your world you must embrace
for you to free your mind.
felt like rhyming
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