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Allie King Dec 2014
born this way?
Not I.
Having seen
what I have seen
Is the aftermath  
of me.

Hands shaking,
vision blurred,
What's my name?

What keeps me up,
will bring me down.
One bottle done,

my life's worth
to go.
Allie King Dec 2014
Do you remember the year 1861? I was just ending my practicum of nursing, and you were being drafted to war. Oh, the day we met on that rain-washed Thursday while you were dodging the doctor from a scratched cornea, I admired you from across the medical tent.
Noticing me quickly, you half smiled. War was quickly setting into place, while you and I plunged head first into love.
We woke up to a conked labor union and our whole base blowing to hell.
My ears, my ears were engulfed with vibrations of cannon sounds.
Then and there, a bullet committed one's self to the center of my chest.
But you found me, slipping into utter darkness. You culled me back towards consciousness.
Flower, Flower, you said. And here I stand beside your plot in the necropolis, knowing my name could have been here just as easily as yours.
                                                                                           eternally yours,
                                                                                                     Your Flower.

— The End —