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 Jul 2014 Avery Greensmith
JT
it was that time when you left me
where the moon and the stars
were the only ones
who comforted me
on that cold and dark night

who listened to my stories
and heard all my woes
as i walked down the road
where it all started

i went to bed
and tried to weep
the pain away
yet the sun
hasn't risen
since

-j.t.
i had a friend once,
and she taught me
not to say "i love you too,"
because it sounds false and inauthentic,
and little white lies are worse than the cold, hard
truth.

i had a friend once,
and she taught me
that you don't have to do anything;
it's simply a matter of whether you should
or shouldn't.

i had a friend once,
and she lived in a small, boring town
with small boring people.

i had a friend once,
and she was not a small, boring person.

i had a friend once,
and she hated herself,
every last inch of her,
but she still always knew
how to make me smile.

i had a friend once,
and she would always reference books
or music
or movies,
because to her,
the real world just wasn't as appealing.

i had a friend once,
and i left her.

she stayed.

she waited.

i'm sure her hope wavered at times,
but she waited still.

and i came back,
only to leave again.

she didn't stick around this time, though.

so, you see,
i had a friend once,
and she taught me
to think deeply,
to live freely,
and to love truly.

i had a friend once.

she's gone now.

(a.m.)
idk.
 Jul 2014 Avery Greensmith
X
When I was a newborn, less than 4 days old, you bought as many stuffed toys as your car could fit and surrounded them around my crib, ignoring my grandmother who kept telling mom that newborns don't know how to look at objects.
I moved my eyes and looked at them.

When I was a toddler, you encouraged me to watch Beauty and the Beast and Aladdin and didn't want me to watch Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty because you "wanted your daughter to learn a lesson, not just waste time".

When I was 7 you took me everywhere with you and didn't mind me listening to your friends' political arguments. On our way home though you always told me "Don't grow up to be like them.  Don't let people lead you."
And I didn't. I pushed a girl because she wanted to be the group leader in our science project.

When I was 11 you started discussing books by Stephen Covey and made me listen to Zig Ziglar cassettes. "Don't blindly follow the crowd," you said. "Always raise your neck and look around. If you don't like where they're going, take another road."
And I did. Girls my age were giggling about boys and bras while my eyes were wide open and excited about all the facts I read from my science textbook.

When I got to middle school and got my eating disorder, I refused to eat the apple in algebra class so that I could take my quiz, and didn't mind my teacher calling you to pick me up for my "resistance".
I got in the car waiting for you to pat my back and tell me I did well for refusing to give in to her ultimatum. I waited for you to tell me that I didn't need help anyways. But the drive back home was silent.

When I was 14 and went to my brother's school to beat up the kid bullying him, you called. I thought you called to give me a pep talk, or give me some tips on how to break his nose. All you said was "stay in the car. Leave the beating for the boys". I came back home confused.

When I was 17 and told you about my goals, you said "When you're young, you have unrealistic dreams. You feel like flying from your positive energy and like you have the whole world in the palm of your hand. But you grow up and realize that you need to be realistic."
I opened my mouth but closed it right after remembering you telling me "Think before you speak. If the outcome of what you'll say is useful, say it. If it'll hurt people, don't." I don't think it would've been useful. What use would it be to scream in your face about how that 'unrealistic dream' was the only goal I had, the only distraction from suicide. What use would it be to tell you that I don't remember the last time I felt like I was about to burst from the positive energy that I had?

You taught me how to be different. You taught me to love math and science. You taught me to be my own person and not let people decide what I should do in my life. But what you forgot to do is teach me how to feel okay. You didn't teach me how to reply to people who tell me that I watch too many American shows and that I let go of our traditions because of my opinion on marriage. You didn't teach me how to not feel lonely as hell when it's 3 am and I'm spewing out everything I binged and wiping my tears away while my throat bleeds and the music is playing to cover up the sound of me choking on the last words I screamed at myself and the gasps of relief when I purge out all my feelings and lay on the floor feeling numb. You didn't teach me how to pretend to blend in when the girls my age would take boys' phone numbers and I'd ask them questions like "but how are you guys together now? You don't know each other's personalities. You only just met." You taught me how to be smart, educated Belle and rebellious, going-by-her-own-rules Jasmine..

Daddy, you taught me how to be my own person in a place where you're supposed to be everyone else's clone, and I am forever grateful.. But sometimes, just sometimes, I wish you had taught me how to pretend to be like Aurora or Snow White.
 Jul 2014 Avery Greensmith
bucky
[i'm sorry. i'm not very good at love letters. i've confessed my love to more angels than real people, but please hear me out on this.]
to the girl i ran into yesterday, with love from the girl who ran into you yesterday
i'm pretty sure i'm in love with you.
you left a handprint on my heart (a literal one;
your fingers curved over my collarbone like you were afraid you would break me)
i have cigarette butts for nerve endings
and i'm pretty sure that you must be a lit match
because i haven't felt this alive in seventeen years
please tell me you feel the same way.
i just want to feel your heart beat against mine, and i know we've only just met, i know you will probably never come to this bookstore again,
but if you say no i will pretend that this is a letter to the galaxy
(my favorite constellation is the one stretching across your shoulders;
a thousand and one stars disguised as freckles
play connect the dots with ligaments and fissures)
i will pretend that you are not the sun in my solar system
and okay, maybe i'm being overdramatic but have you ever looked into someone's eyes
and wanted to memorize every fleck of gold you see
i wrote down the things i want to know about you, a wishlist ten miles long
with nothing but your name on it
i wonder how you'd react if i held your hand in public
the sea swelling up to meet us there are wires from my heart to yours
and i know there is approximately an 86.3% chance you will never see this love letter but i wished on a star for something real
and then i ran into you
(i'm sorry again. i hope you enjoy to **** a mockingbird. it's one of my favorites.)
i hope your hair is still a preposterous shade of blue because it makes your eyes look like constellations
do you want to form a galaxy with me?
to the girl i ran into yesterday, who wore bright pink flip flops and had a tattoo of a star on her left anklebone,
i think i'm in love with you
please reply at your earliest convenience.
i can't help but laugh at the fact
that you're wasting your life away
on something so
very terribly evanescent.

(a.m.)
some people focus so much on love and put so much energy towards it. maybe it's just me, but is it really worth it?
i don't know if you remember it. those times when i was in love with you. maybe they're shoved in the back of your brain, in a cabinet marked 'useless.' you might never meet me, anyway. why should you care?
i don't know if you know that you broke me. but you did. i don't blame you, though. why would you want me, anyway?
i don't know if you still bring a blade to your precious skin because you think you're worthless. but you aren't. you're so incredible. your mind still amazes me. and i love you. i may not be in love with you, but i love you. and i want to be in love with you.
i don't know if you still think of me. i know you probably don't.
but, god, i hope you do.

dearly,
a.m.
i try to say what needs to be said.
a wishlist ten feet long that says 'make me feel love
make me kiss someone and like it'
but its a bit of a catastrophe and its not gonna just right itself
stars dont care if i shine the same way-
do they?
but no ones got the answer
or they do, a thousand
just have to find myself in the sea of intricate possibilities
(or the river of one- they never say)
yet im not there anymore-
am i?
reborn as a storm id say
there is nothing wrong with the way i dont feel
(they wont believe me; the weatherman says the storm was yesterday)
cut open my heart and youll find
a thousand swirling stars evading constellations
a galaxy of planets revolving around themselves
im a larger than life,
im an immortal-
are you?
 Jul 2014 Avery Greensmith
kenzo
Night.

It makes me sad that we choose to sleep at the prettiest time of the day.
Put down your phone. Pause what you're doing and go outside. Go outside and lay down and stare at the stars. Forget about everything for a while. The night sky is so becoming, isn't it? It makes me seem so small, like the speck of matter I am and feel. It's the time when my thoughts are efflorescence; when I grasp a pencil and begin to write down whatever visits my mind.

Though those thoughts are quite evanescent, and that seems to make my writing 10 times better than when the sun is present. (I write better under the influence  or when I'm depressed as well and I think that's ironic.) Maybe it's the lack of of halcyon from the sun, but when it comes to night, my emotions are lilting. Knowing that there is so much to this spinning colossal cylinder we live in that I have not yet explored and most likely never will makes me so unbelievably sad. Knowing that nobody seems
to acknowledge it anymore, that we are neglecting earth because technology and narcissist have taken their toll.
We are told we have freedom yet we spend more than 17 years in school full of ****-sapiens differing in traits, personalities, class and abilities. Traits that don't clash with yours, making it easier for them to judge you based on your differences from them, putting pressure and preventing some people to  be who they're not. It is human nature to judge what we don't understand. We are forced to get a job to pay for cars, houses, bills , insurance and  cigarettes (well, for some)
Go to college, fall in love, get married, have kids, watch them grow up and barley ever call you and then, you die. Congratulations, your skeleton is turned to ashes in a urn in your daughters closet tucked behind old boxes and you exist only in peoples memories and photographs and stories. It's something we neglect to think about, the truth.
At a young age, we are asked what we'd like to be when we grow up. Silly us, we responded with an astronaut, firefighter, doctor etc. Nobody ever told us that we most likely won't achieve those goals.
Nobody ever told us that through all the pain, you must maintain that grade because It's not about the lessons, it's just about your GPA and how good your memory is.If I could go back in time to my 6 year old self while being asked that as I play with my barbies, I would say I don't want to grow up. Life isn't dulcet. The word life itself isn't very mellifluous to
me. It only gets worse as you age, and thats the bitter truth.  All the people I love will pass away, more responsibilities and stress will be piled on me weighing me down, my lungs and heart might get weaker due to my nicotine and cannabis intake which is my panacea. Then again, you
can live your life as if you were to die any second, which you could.
For **** sake, I don't want to live a life of a normal human being. I don't want to follow the orders of life, I'm naturally rebellious, I hate living like this ******* it. But I have to. Pieces of paper run our whole entire world, community and ecosystem that we have completely destroyed. It doesn't matter how you are in person, all that matters is what is printed in files and
papers. Your future is based on how your grades are in school, not by our intelligence, but how different teachers graded you. Not only that, but some of our lives are lived by a book. Some of our lives are ended by a book, and destroyed by a book. The Bible, if you didn't catch my drift, and frankly I don't want to live by a book. I want my life to be my very own pastiche.
I want to travel, not only to every place on the planet, but in the stars and in space. I want to make imprints, to leave something behind as proof I was here, I was somebody, that I survived.
I want to come face to face with the man in the moon, to touch the milky way with the palm of my hands and I wouldn't even mind being ****** in by a black hole if it meant I  had the opportunity to be in space. This is what the world does to you. It makes you believe that you can achieve your dreams, that you can do whatever you want. That's the demon of it all.
I am so sick and tired of just staring up at the dead stars, smoking my cancer stick and imagining scenarios in my head. The stars make me feel so alive, yet so dead. Dead knowing that I'm probably never going to go up there, maybe in astral projection, but my meditation skills are not up to par.
When I die, I want my soul to be in space. I don't care how cliche that sounds, I want to be with my loved ones exploring the places unknown to the majority of  individuals on earth.
There is more to this earth than we know, life itself is one big mystery and I don't know how far the universe goes, and that to me is scary yet astounding.
It only makes sense that there is a world after this one. There just has to be. Think about it. We have no idea how earth got here. We know we're made of flesh and bone and stardust, but we have no idea how we are formed. We have theories, so many theories, but no proven facts as to why we are here. So many varieties of different life forms and different planets. There just has to be something after our organs give up on us. We're more than our organs, so much more. I don't know how to explain it. But I guess until my time to leave this earth for good comes,
I'll never know the denouement to life.
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