The stage is bright like a candle
people cheering, screaming their name
my friend and I squeeze our way through
once we get a decent view of the side of the stage
we dance without a care
as I twirl
a boy
taking pictures of the Marley brothers
catches my eye
he looked majestic just standing there
I could feel my heart pounding
my friend grabs my hand to move closer to the stage
...to him...
we're standing right next to him
"Do you guys want to stand in front of me" he says followed by the most beautiful smile I've ever seen
"If you don't mind"
"Not at all beautiful"
I blush and move
Music blasting everywhere
I feel free...
the lady next to me trips and falls, causing me to bump him
his warm hands wrap around my waist perfectly
"you ok?" he says to me
"yeah I'm fine, thank you for catching me"
"Anytime"
as I looked at him, his eye's, so blue like summer skies, everything disappeared.
"come on lets dance!" my friend yells, unaware of whats going on.
he smiles and lets go
as I danced with her, I found myself turning to look at him again
his eyes closed, letting the music flow through him
"Should I dance with him? or Should I just forget about it?"
Suddenly a huge wave of bravery runs through my body
**** IT!
I grab his hands and pull them towards me, he didn't hesitate as he wrapped his arms around me once more
and we danced
I then knew that this was the boy who had stolen my heart, the boy I wanted to be with right then and there
it was perfect
he was perfect
"what your name?" I ask
"Jake"....
Jake, even his name was perfect
"whats yours?"
"Maggie"
"its beautiful, your beautiful"
butterflies were flying in my stomach
after several songs my friend tells me we had to go
I look at Jake, "I need to go"
we stand still, he holds me tighter, not wanting to let go
"come on, we need to go"
"Will I ever see you again?" he says,
I could see it in his eyes that he was hurting inside
"I don't know, maybe"
he takes a deep breath, and slowly lets go of me
I hold his hand "Ill never forget about you"
as I start to walk away, his pulls me in and kisses me
and in that moment I knew this wouldn't be the last time Id see him
we stop and embrace each other
as I slowly pulled myself away, our hands still holding on to whats left of us
I finally let go, and walk away........


I lost a piece of my heart that day, and never got it back
but I can feel it beating when I think of *HIM

You fill my lungs with smoke

Your body burns
Between my finger tips
While ash falls slowly to the floor

I know that you are toxic to my health
But I've been addicted in the worst possible way

I....
Crave you in the morning

I can....
Taste you in the back of my throat

I need you
Like no other

I want you
More than my next breath

You are just like a cigarette
You’ve infected me with your cancer
Quit you I must,
Before you bury me in the ground
And turn my body into dust

© 2013-2014 Peach

My Soul Resides

In the *nooks and crannies of passenger seats.
In the books I've read too many times.
In the scent in the air after you left.
In the Pink Floyd t-shirt.
In the links of metal I only have memories of.
In the silver moonlight hitting caramel skin.
In the school books I've scribbled my name in.
In the memories of those I no longer speak to.
In the mind of my parents, who still think I'm their little girl.
In the movie I watch every week.
In the candles I blow out before I sleep.
In the songs I'd keep on repeat for hours.
In the anywhere from 15 to 50 minute showers.
In the nights I stayed up, listening to the rain.
In the days I woke up, feeling a little less sane.
In the summer romances.
In the fact I've never had a slow dance.
In the first good kiss I ever had.
In the scars I harbor, inside and out.
In the last time I felt right.
In the things I fear.
In the way things changed, in just a year.
In the first poems I wrote.
In the first time I could soak up the beach, alone.

This is what I am. This is what made me what- no - who, I am.

*My Soul Resides

i took the metal out of my face
but i couldnt carve the art out of my skin

i took the words and swallowed them
but i couldnt stop the thoughts from
strengthening

i lit a cigarette
but never smoked it
you said
you can take the
tobacco out of your
hands but not
the tar from your lungs

i looked in the mirror
so filled with regret
i felt it spilling out
of my pores
pulled the covers
over my face for days
woke up
and was the same

welllll,
nothing good ever
stays
but
i have a headache
that won't *******
go away

She walks in beauty, like the night
     Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
     Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
     Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
     Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
     Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
     How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
     So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
     But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
     A heart whose love is innocent!

-Year fifteen.

Normal girl, tall and slender. Bright eyes and developing body.
But her hands, oh... Her hands were sculpted by something else. Beautiful bones,
Long, pink nails and the skin on her palm smoother than silk.
The veins show a dull peppermint on her snowy skin.
Her thin wrist and delicate movements.

She cracks her knuckles so her sharp joints will show more.

-Year twenty three.

The life she lived previous was pressured by the pollution in the air. ****,
Drugs, and alcohol. She slouches and shivers on a warm summer day,
Huddled in a corner of her house.

Her hands show no more snow. The veins seem shriveled.
Her joints were swollen and unmovable.
Her palms are coarse from rubbing them together and her nails...
Oh, her nails were ****** and torn off. She clawed too much at her neck
As she was held down and suffocated.

-Year twenty four.

*"I am sorry." The note read.

It was a deformed hand. Bite marks on her fingertips, shriveled skin with blotches and sores.
The veins drawn over in pink scars from jagged blades and old attempts.
It was a miracle she could write at all.

She now lays in an open casket. Eyes stare at her contrasted beauty.
Her childhood friend had always loved her hands. He reconstructed them.
A shriveled old body, only twenty four years old, but seemingly ancient.

But her hands, oh... Her hands were sculpted by someone who truly loved her.
Beautiful bones,
Long and pink plastic nails. The skin on her palm made of silk.
The veins are drawn with a dull peppermint pastel on her falsely snowy skin.

He cracked her fingers so her prosthetic joints will move less.

you will forget
the colour of my eyes
and the way i turn to the back door
instinctively, when i hear the click
and how, unlike you all, i do not yell across the cubicles
the way i crushed boxes for two hours, then
and how i cry, too easily
the six pack of strawberry milk (fresh from the fridge) that only i drank
the smell of fish and chips that wafted through the office and-

-you will forget my love,
my loyalty,
and soon enough,
you will forget me.

i don't want to forget.

"don't want to?"

no. i can't.

i cannot forget the christmas decorations that must be down by now
or the perpetually-unmanned front
or stale, recycled, air-conditioned oxygen that tasted like bliss
and lemon stained fish and chips, and salad that came out of a tub,
and scalding heat against my palm
and tears.

i cannot forget the way she laughs
like an orchestra of the wind beneath the branches
or the way you shook my hand
and made me feel like i belonged and
how you, you, my love, you are bothering to go to the trouble of sending me registered mail
so it doesn't get lost
the way i do, in her eyes

i cannot forget how you are different. special
and how you refuse to take selfies that are glamorous
because you have a sense of fun and
the first time you ever saw me, drenched
dedicated, yearning, and already in irrevocable love.

i cannot forget the strike i scored
with my eyes on a screen instead of a lane and
the cookies, the vouchers, the games
the screwdrivers, shoes, and sushi

i cannot forget the goodbyes i never said
in case i never say them, the next time i can
that once upon a time-
i belonged.

i cannot forget beauty and goodness and strength and
laughter and belonging and teasing and acceptance and
loyalty and experience and diversity and determination and
passion and teamwork and friendship and family and
love.

i cannot forget.
because you will.

you know what they say
if nobody remembers something any longer
did it really exist?

when i was young and foolish i thought that was so ridiculous
because it's happened- so it must exist
mustn't it?
and now i see why
the philosophers say what they do
and why people doubt.

i am so afraid to forget
because if i can,
then others can (and will), as well.

but as long as i remember (even if it fades from the collective remembrance)
then it will always exist
even if only
in the land of memories
and dreams upon our dreams
where we can never set foot upon again.