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 Aug 2018 andromeda green
lu
she is so beautiful.
just looking at her
makes my heart race.
her smile is the most beautiful
thing, besides her existence.
talking to her is a breath of fresh air.
she's everything i want.
she's everything i need.
yet,
she's everything i can't have.
she and i, we have a love that is
forbidden.
the places we live are not real homes.
we do not feel safe,
and so we hide our love.
closed doors,
far away places.
we hide where they cannot see.
they can't see her lips on mine,
or hear the words we exchange.
we hide from the ones we love.
our families,
we love them,
but if they knew the truth,
they would no longer
love us.
in their eyes,
two girls in love?
"it's just a phase."
they'll say.
they could never
understand us.
my darling,
you and i are forbidden.
why can't i kiss her when i want to?
i used to write about scars i can't see anymore,
i would tear open and salt wounds in hopes of a piece that i could but would never fully be proud of.
these pieces i wrote held me down and made my feet drag throughout these hallways and,
i'm not doing that anymore.
i'm starting to remember who i was at birth,
who i am when i'm in my happiest state and not even my demons can drag me back down to the hell i used to light.
i love,
and i smile.
i used to write so much about who i used to be that i started to miss it when i couldn't write anymore.
my mind lived at more than four years back,
i relived my darkest days over and over when i couldn't see the sun in the morning.
i'm not doing that anymore.
last year, i lost my best friend,
my favorite person in this entire world,
my sun and my moon and my stars,
i believed the earth spun for him and solely him and i still do.
losing him made me lose my hope.
and for that time,
there were more dark days.
there were fresh wounds and igloos made of tissues and blankets.
i will miss him forever but i will live in his honor.
i'm holding my head up high and i will love and admire the earth until i meet my Everything again.
i used to write about the bad days,
the cloudy days,
the days where i cried on my bedroom floor,
the days where i burst out in tears during a normal day in class because i just couldn't do This anymore.
i'm not doing that anymore.
i've learned and seen how beautiful this world can be.
ooof so like,, yeah. this is something lol
Someone hands me a problem
All wrapped in distress
Packaged in pain
"Can you carry this"

I see the hurt in their eyes
From carrying everything so long
I take the parcel with a smile
"Don't worry at all"

"Can you carry this?"
Another asks
Holding out a bag of sorrow
Laced with depression

"Of course"
I say
Without another thought

They relax
As the pack goes from their back
To mine

I sink lower to the ground

"Can you carry this"
Holding out a burden of self resentment
Tied with a ribbon of anxiety

"Definitely"
A little more won't **** me

The burden is set down on my shoulders
I get a little heavier
My bones aching with the weight
My feet digging cracks in the pavement

I paste a smile on my face

Then you come around
"Can you carry this?"

I took one look in your eyes
"Yes"

Your sack was the heaviest of them all
Grief
Shame
Heartache
Anguish
Torture

My very essence trembled
Under the weight
Of your burden

I was close to the breaking point

But you needed me,
So I carried on

Pretending that I could bear it all
 Jul 2018 andromeda green
Lily
Mom, I’m not addicted to my phone.
I simply need that connection I have with
My friends, the ones who I don’t get to talk to
Often, that have all but disappeared from
My life, but I can still see them on the screen.
Mom, I’m not addicted to my phone.
I like to read stories and poems,
Browse the Internet’s fanfiction,
Write my own works, and receive feedback
From friends and critics alike.
Mom, I’m not addicted to my phone.
I just worry about the people I care about,
Wanting to know where they are
And what they are doing;
Not unlike the protective nature you have with me.
Mom, I’m not addicted to my phone.
Sometimes, I just need to check the time.
Written with the help of my nine year old cousin, Natalie.
 Jul 2018 andromeda green
Lily
“I love you, but your laugh is so weird!”
“I love you, but you shouldn’t have
Failed that test.”
“I love you, but you shouldn’t go out in
That ugly dress.”
“I love you, but why is your car so *****?”
“I love you, but please at least try not to snore?”
“I love you, but keep your distance, okay?”
“I love you, but stop getting so
Worked up about things!”
“I love you, but your anxiety is hurting me.”
“I love you, but I don’t think this is
Going to work out.”
This is all my ears hear, but
My heart doesn’t hear it, comprehend it.
I just want you to know,
“I love you, but I’m not sure if I should.”
i know who i am.
i know i'm boring and i'm not the brighest star in the sky.
you said you loved me and you said you cared.
that was until you found someone shinier and a correlating personality.
i know who i am.
i know i shouldn't, and i don't, expect you to stay by my side even when i want to draw blood.
but there was a part of me, a huge part of me,
that wanted you to stay.
that part of me felt like you're my soulmate.
so here i am,
i will love you from the backseat.
tw// "drawing blood" referring to self harm.

i don't really feel loved right now, by anyone. it's just a bad day. a really day. that i know will pass but i just want to feel these emotions right now because i know if i don't then they'll remain.
left my phone unlocked
on the taxi’s back seat,
won't be the last time

called it a few times
finally, the driver picked up

he had a fare immediately after mine,
and was now headed way downtown,
and would call later
when fate returned him nearer my office

and so it came to pass,
very shortly thereafter,

we met on the street,
he rolled down  the window
and with the greatest smile of pleasure,
as if he had won the lottery
beaming,
handed me my phone

I had two $20's to cover any expense he might have incurred,
neatly folded in my hand  
and offered it right up, right away;
but the driver repeatedly pushed my hand away
as I insisted,
saying:

"No sir, no no, not necessary!

Allah sent me a fare
that took me soon back close to you, so,
  no loss of time did I suffer,
so your offer is kindly unnecessary!"


to which I replied,

"exactly!
Allah sent you to me
so I could reward you!"


and with an equally, beaming smile I continued,

"our ride and meeting today,
together was pre-ordained it was


Inshallah!" ^

something he could not dispute...
or my knowledge thereof and it’s
proper pronouncement,
nor
his amazement,
to disguise!

  we parted ways
   each believing,
   each receiving,
a heavenly check plus,
each, credited with a mitzvah^^
on our
respective trip logs,
our humanly divine balance sheets,
kept by the
single
supreme taxi dispatcher
Arabic for ^"God/Allah willing" or "if God/Allah wills," frequently spoken by a Muslim


^^a meritorious or charitable act in the Jewish tradition

FYI,
NYC taxi cab drivers are suffering economically by the explosion of ride hailing app cars, many unable to pay their bills, earn a living, have committed suicide over the past few months
https://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/sixth-new-york-city-cab-driver-dies-suicide-after-struggling-n883886

true story, poetry is there for the taking
i was told by many that i don't really write when i'm happy.
i've always shrugged off the comments but now that,
i can confidently say i'm getting to a place where i'm mentally and physically happy,
it's true.
for words don't flow out as smoothly.
i want to cherish these moments, feeling the warm sun on my skin and smiling so much my cheeks hurt.
i want to hold these moments close and these moments are hard to describe in words other than bluntly saying them.
i woke up this morning and the sun shining through my window felt like a hug,
i didn't want to disintegrate into my sheets anymore.
i looked in the mirror,
i'm obviously breaking out but it doesn't bother me.
for i've even called my constellations cute and i've accepted them.
eating is slowly starting to feel okay,
very slowly but surely.
do you understand now how i can't put these small things into poems?
they are just what they are,
beautiful.
and if i don't create because i am this way,
then so be it.
for the first time in my recovery,
i want to live in the moment.
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