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 Apr 2013 Abbie Argo
Robyn
Turn Away
 Apr 2013 Abbie Argo
Robyn
It's beautiful
The way you ignore me
Or rather
The way you turn away
And it breaks my heart
But you're still beautiful that way
 Apr 2013 Abbie Argo
anna
when the house creaks from falling icicles
and the snow has been scraped from the driveway far too many times
that is when we sludge upstairs in our layers of greying sweaters
that is when we take out the box of summer vacation photos.

in them the grass is thick and deliciously green
and red squirrels belly up to new branches swaying above our heads
and we touch these beautiful things to our red and chapping noses.

and then I swear
just a bit of cool summer air
floats out
and lends a bit of sun to the midwinter.
 Apr 2013 Abbie Argo
brooke
Lately I have wondered
where my life has gotten
to while I spent my time
worrying about the sand
on the beach or the hair
on my head.
(c) Brooke Otto
 Apr 2013 Abbie Argo
brooke
Plead.
 Apr 2013 Abbie Argo
brooke
A dozen eggs
seven prayers
my lips aren't
soft, what am
I doing, God?
(c) Brooke Otto
 Apr 2013 Abbie Argo
brooke
Broth.
 Apr 2013 Abbie Argo
brooke
i am rolled between
rocks, my everything
hurts
(c) Brooke Otto
 Apr 2013 Abbie Argo
brooke
15:4
 Apr 2013 Abbie Argo
brooke
Today I wore a dress. It was cold and my skin
pinched up in the wind. I hurt a strange and
angry sort of hurt today. Where my bones
shook and my stomach hurt but with my
sunglasses nobody on I-5 knew the difference
between singing and screaming and I ended up in Seattle
where the roads are confusing and the sky is stretched through
shuttle bus wires and the blinkers never stop, I may have blown a red
light but nobody noticed--especially when I ended up in Ballard. who knew
you could get back to Everett by skipping half the free way and by the time I
ended up back where I started I saw myself leaving hours earlier down the ramp,
decided I couldn't go home because I wasn't ready. I asked the boy at the ticket
counter which movie was the least less full? Sorry, least most full? Which theater
had the least amount of people (to see me cry) and he smiled strangely, but asked
for my ID. For a moment I remembered I wasn't 17, 17 was just that age where
you're allowed, I was so past allowed but here's my ID anyway, it was sticky.
I didn't watch that movie, what even happened? A man sat behind me,
grunting. I tried to cover my phone but my mind was elsewhere in
an anger that did not let me be mad. Instead I could only consider
the situation a hundred times over, consider the words
I could say, should say, would not say,
should not say, the things I should do,
the right
things (whatever they were)
the wrong things. At this point I noticed
the movie was crude, disgusting even. I hadn't even
laughed once. What kind of humor was
this? But again, my mind
was
elsewhere
and Stephanie wanted
to know where I was, where
are you? Where was I? I was at Costco
with mom earlier, how did I get here? I was laying on
my bed when I got that text but here I am now, soaked
in salt, although my bones no longer shake and my stomach
no longer hurts but these blankets know the difference between
screaming and singing, I know the difference. But I'm. Still. Here.
God, God, I don't know what to do or say or be. I don't
know what to do or say or be or say or do.
(c) Brooke Otto


today was unfortunately very long.
 Apr 2013 Abbie Argo
brooke
3 inches
 Apr 2013 Abbie Argo
brooke
I tell her:
you will not
be ugly if you
cut your hair

because when
she was small the
kids called her
fat and the

boys called her a
boy which was
okay but not

so this long hair
was a rebellion
as she proclaimed
i really am a girl

i really am a girl

i really am a girl


won't you believe me?
(c) Brooke Otto
 Apr 2013 Abbie Argo
brooke
they say that bronze was
the prime component in
the Equestrian Statue of
Marcus Aurelius
, or the
stone of the Ajanta Caves
in India, but will my skin
keep me alive? I once said
something interesting in
a classroom in regards to
immortality, when a girl
picked out the flaws in
For the Love of God a
piece by Damien Hirst.
It seems to say that we                                              must realize our mortality
but do skeletons not last
the ravage of time? Exactly
what part of us is mortal
aside from our skin, first?
(c) Brooke Otto
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