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You might have been steady
Loving
And kind
But your love didn’t surprise me
Or blow my mind
 Jul 2014 Becca Bruno
cr
hatred,,
 Jul 2014 Becca Bruno
cr
i haven't heard from you
in six days time and i had
never felt more free
until you sent me one final
message thirty-seven
seconds ago: i hate you.

the feeling is
mutual.
I remember,

Every time I fell
You picked me up.
And every time I cried
You stayed to comfort me.

You gave everything to me
And all I did was whine
You were beautiful
In and out.

Your smile was bright
And everyone believed you.

When I was weak
You stood tall
And pulled me up
To wake me.

Though, one day
I was at your doorstep
Ready to come in.

But hearing something peculiar,
I ran upstairs
Only to witness a scene I will never forget.

Reunited and so high above,
I now ask you,
“Why did you leave?”

When I suddenly noticed,
I left too.
Let's say this character was weak and it showed every single day of her life and depended on her friend who stayed strong for her. Her friend was the strong one, the shoulder to cry on, she had no time to cry because the character was doing enough crying for the both of them. But one afternoon, the character's friend took her life. The character went crazy after that, so depressed and tired. The character killed herself as well in the end.
 Jul 2014 Becca Bruno
ab
black black holes and white white stars, circling, dancing in the that black black sky and from it tears of blue blue rain falls in time with our sorrows. red red blood pumped through our veins and our red red hearts pumped in tune of our favorite song and we couldn't feel pain and we couldn't feel love but we took what we could and that was enough. i stubbed my toe when i was nine and i smashed my hand falling out your green green tree in your green green yard and stained the ground a dark red red. the white white doctors were baffled by the thought that i felt no pain and i just said it was because of your brown brown eyes and the way it felt like a blue blue ocean i lost myself in. maybe i drowned in those blue blue eyes and my pain was lost in the white white surf and that was all i needed to know and that was enough. when i was twelve there was boy in my class who called me names like "fatty" and "ugly" which weren't original but stung like knives and when i held his hand on the fourth of july and kissed his nose under the bright bright lights it didn't feel anything quite like you, but that was enough.  do you remember that on that day of bright bright flowers and white white daisies and gold gold marigolds and we sat on a blue blue blanket listening to our song and we held hands and kissed noses and i felt all of you but you felt none of me? i guess that's how the story goes and that is enough and enough is enough and when i turned twenty-one we drank too much and you went home under the black black sky and you said you felt all of me but i felt none of you and that is enough. i drank myself to death into a deep deep hole in the dead dead ground and i finally felt all of you but you felt none of me and enough is enough.
also signed as a. a. bonham on other sites
 Jul 2014 Becca Bruno
megan
there are a million stars and half a million gas stations between you and me but that doesn’t equal distance. day breaks, day shatters into evanescent pieces that float on the edge of my conscious mind, but you are the constant. your eyes the color of ground hazelnuts have always been my constant.

it doesn’t matter that we are separate beings because, here, in the light of a setting sun and a milky twilight, we are one. we are melted together like hershey kisses in a bowl on a summer evening and worry is not a word and slowly, you become my kryptonite.

missed phone calls, missed deadlines, missed laughs. i used to count your sneezes in the biting chill of early february and wrap your arms around my waist so i could feel like something was keeping my balloon from flying into the void where lost balloons go. i blame myself for letting you hold on until i finally took flight, spreading my wings out behind me like an angel's and kicking the invisible dust into your face.

now there are two million stars and a million gas stations between us because i am trying to forget that you ever broke the carefully crafted walls that contained all of my closeted skeletons.

i’m starting to remember why i never liked hazelnuts.
today i wrote a masterpiece
but for a status update on Facebook.
Air
Bedrooms are intimate. Showing someone exactly where you breathe is special. To see it, they have to worship every breath that goes in and out, even if your exhale is poison.
The walls still smell like you
Last week, I pulled the sheets off the bed. I placed them in the burn pile.

I do not wish to see you.
This week, I painted everything a new color, a darker shade.
I pulled down the Christmas lights and let my stars burn out. I placed them in the burn pile.

I do not wish to see you.
I ripped stuffed animals off the shelves and letters off the dresser. Even the photo album went in the burn pile.
I do not wish to see you.
The flowers off the desk... They were dead anyway.
I do not wish to see you.
Everything in a bedroom is sacred. Not everyone belongs there; you sure didn't. You kissed everything with fiery lips and charcoal dust and I am still sweeping up. I continue to find your ashes in my bed.
I do not wish to see you.
You took everything. You took my air and gave me back poison. I couldn't tell the difference. But the worst thing you took from my room is me.
I do not wish to see you.
I do not wish to see you.
*I put you in the burn pile. I see you in the flames. I see you everywhere.
I start to tear at the drywall.
Personally love this one.
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