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 Mar 2013 Alicia Hubert
MDRMS
You made me feel at home
When homeless is all I've been

You left me there so cold
And yet still warm within

Come back to our garden
To our hours in the night

Look with me through windows
Whilst depriving them of light

Come back to me, my love
As you promised me one day

Come back to me, my dearest one
Come back to me, and stay.
Dear soul, you've got a lot to say. Speak.
Dear brain, you've always been right. How?
Dear legs, you've always been my strength. Fall.
Dear arms, you've been the ones to raise me up. Drop.
Dear nose, you've revealed all the fakes. Sniff.
Dear eyes, you've seen the game of life. Blind.
Dear heart, you've shattered with every tear. Heal.
Dear me, you've survived through it all. Break down.
Soul, when will you acquire your voice
And give your long awaited speech?
Brain, how could you have been so right
When everything seemed so wrong?
Legs, when will you give out
And scar from the fall?
Arms, how have you been able to hold me up
When everything else was pulling me down?
Nose, when will you expose me?
Eyes, when will you stop functioning
And go dark to the world?
Heart, how will you piece yourself together
When I cry every day?
Me, I'm sorry.
But
When does my life get exciting?
When will I decide to spend more time with real people
Than my fictional friends in my dog eared novels?
When will my life become one of those stupid high school movies
Where the awkward girl gets the guy she wants?
Is it little love,
If we hide our true thoughts
But feel it without speaking?
Is it skinny love,
If its just frail hopes
Stretched over porcelain fears?
Is it petty love,
If we let the others
Do our speaking?
Is it miniature love,
If we know it's there
But we continue our admiration
Without conversation?
Small feelings for a significant other. About two people who find eachother interesting but are too shy to admit it.
Thick boundaries separate
the careful,
the careless,
and the carefree
10 word poem. I try to explain this thought to people, but they never really understand it.
Debated on calling this miles between suffixes but it felt too wordy for a simple poem.
She was face down on a red mattress
Probably recalling her short life
Probably not remembering me
Probably not thinking of the closing school we used to drag ourselves to
I wonder if she knew she was dying there
I wonder if she knew her last few moments in this life
Would be suffering from a kind bullet
Maybe she was crying silently
Maybe she was thinking of her lonely mother
Maybe she was thinking Of the scars she left
Maybe she was wondering what the black and white headlines would be
Maybe she was wondering how She got involved
She was definitely dreaming that
She could go back and do it right
About a girl I knew. I don't want to say friend because we haven't been close. But she was murdered. She was adopted and got mixed in with the wrong crowd. Most people aren't sympathetic over her death like I am. Maybe because she resembles my brother.
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