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ava Apr 6
the house we live in doesn't have hand-towels
there are ants in the kitchen and an ache in the chest of every child unlucky enough to grow up here.
don't open that door, don't ask.
the front door is always locked but i was never given keys
just wait outside, we'll be home when the game ends
the house we live in is not a home.
i learned to crawl on cold concrete
i grew sandpaper skin and sour secrecy
the house knows what you did.
i choked my waist in duct tape and buried my sobs in the bathroom floor
wait, don't open the door.
the house we live in is a graveyard of childhood dreams
you never let them live long, did you?
i went looking for lost hope
only to find wood and dirt and concrete nothingness.
at the end of the day the house is just a house
you were the one holding the shovel.
kinda cliche but whatever
ava Nov 2018
my mother always said her worst fear was growing old
she tucks the years into her waistband without looking in the mirror
the wrinkles grow on her face like roots from a tree
i ask how she can stay with a man that makes her bleed
"in ten years he'll die"
her voice is subdued, expression removed
but the words still tremble on her lips
i know it's a wish
she made ten years ago
ava Jun 2018
your room is full of ghosts.
one moment you are lying on your bed in the corner
and i am busied somewhere else.
but in a matter of seconds
you are leaning across your desk to kiss my neck
and we are lovers once more.
but the air between us is different now, thicker
and it is hard not to think what i already know
that your lips will be wet
and just the slightest bit cold
and they will taste of white wine
too sweet for my liking but i will kiss you back anyways.
and i will regret it in the morning
but love you in the moment.
maybe that's always been the problem with you and me
ava Jun 2018
all your books fall apart
and i long to take their place
to be tended to so often
i begin to unfold.
ava May 2018
i like that the freckles on your face match the ones on your back, and no two freckles are the same
like snowflakes
your kisses are soft and wet.
you said my full name is pretty, and i like how it sounds when you say it
i'd let you call me by it if you asked.
you drank all my wine but what you didn't know is that wine was already yours
you gave me head on the floor
in my bedroom, you pick the best songs to kiss to.
i like the way you say 'jasmines'
a quieter part of me wonders how you would go about pronouncing every flower, and how long it would take
i would stay till the end
i didn't expect to feel anything when you said i was just your friend
you laid your head in my lap, and my thighs grew feelings all around you
but you run your fingers through your tangleless hair, and all my feelings fall to the floor
i will tuck them into my shirtsleeves, wear them like a friendship bracelet
we're just friends till nightfall, by midnight i'm your favorite.
i am not a tender thing to you, and i won't tell you that i want to be
so long as you continue to say my name so softly
ava Sep 2017
In your room
my lipstick stained coffee mug sits smugly on your desk
you  tell me not to bring my cups up to your room after the time my unfinished coffee found its way through your bedsheets.
I sneak looks at you from the corner of my eye.
you pretend not to notice.

Littered around your laundry basket are my lacey bras and patterned underwear
I know you’ve always been neat and I’ve scattered your living space with my messy habits
and maybe you mind, but you’ve never given me a hard time for it.
my mom never made me fold my clothes, but i fold all yours.

An empty box of wheat thins stands straight up aside the trash bin
you can never make them last more than one night
and I still don’t understand their appeal
but i buy them over and over
you never forget to recycle.

Multiple journals of mine clutter your desk drawers
you ask to read what i write, eyes kind and curious
I don’t  let you, but for different reasons than you think
I write my poems onto papers the size of a dog-eared page,
hide them in the pockets of your jackets
it ‘s summer. you don’t find them.

— The End —