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 May 2014 bekka walker
olivia go
I am writing this poem as a letter of reference for my uncultured heart,
Unedited and uncensored and
Unlike the affections I so willingly gave you.
You read me your poems
As if I were the first girl to receive them,
And boy,
Did I receive them.
I took them and their delicate lettering that traced
My name written boldly and profoundly in the center
As if the world was handing itself over to me.
To: Olivia
From: Jupiter
No return address.
I kept your smooth words and slipped them into my coffee,
Tucked them underneath my pillow case,
And folded them into a book I virginally scribbled in.
I found them scattered across the night's sky
And sewn into the shirt you loved on me.
I planted them in good soil waiting for spring.
My good, rich soil.
Untouched and unused.
I Watered them carefully and buried them with a warmth
That the sun itself couldn't radiate.
You lit me up and I was burning so wildly for you.
For you, Jupiter.
My garden was beautiful, full.
Plentiful.
Abundant.
Good, rich.
Untouched and unused.
And little white lilies began to sprout and dot the I's of your
I love yous,
I miss yous,
I was thinking about you,
I love you,
I miss you.
I was thinking about you.
I love you.

I miss you.

I was thinking about you, Jupi.

But drier than your recycled sentiments,
My soil
Became parched and emaciated
As more of your lilies grew.
My coffee became bitter,
My pillow case as soft as sand paper.
The small, black journal I carefully pressed flowers with
Now stained and sopping wet with Your cheap ink
That ran down my skin and into
Creases you left your finger prints.
Your lilies, though small and sweet,
Were deadlier than any poison ivy
I'd ever touched previously.
The little plot of earth I saved for myself
Was now a pile of your cigarette ash
And venomous weeds.
I burned so wildly for you,
But without you.
For you,
Not with you.
I was another one of your American Spirits,
Smoked, put out and
Tossed into the grave of another fruitless harvest.
Taken, left, and used.
I was never a good gardener.
January 5th, 2001
4 years old I am sledding
A day filled with fun
My parents they smile
My baby sister she laughs
All together so happy
But it just couldn't last

A phone call, so brief
Told of death in my home
My best friend, my uncle
Had died last night, all alone
Overdosed they say, ****** hits hard
His mother crying and crying, begging to God
To bring him back please, save him just once
But God plays no favorites, and what's done is done

Poison in my veins, I can feel it when I breathe
The blood of an addict lives on inside of me
Pills and cigarettes, comfort in pain
Unable to escape that nagging in the back of my brain
Because the man I knew so long ago seemed happy
Or so my younger self was told
And though I swear I know better I can't help but dream
Of giving his life a go
Dead beat loner trapped in a world
Soon to be stoner not moving forward
Friends off to college, mistakes of the past
Keep him stuck at home, life changed so fast
From bright with a future to dumb soon to die
Chain smoking cigarettes, maybe tonight is the night
Sick in the head, broken down mind
Illness killed potential, future died those nights
Flirting with death while my love was asleep
Nobody to help me, nobody to set me free
One man army always doomed to fail
One man army, now a corpse so pale
19
I feel inspired
Inspired to write
Like my father and father before me
Inspired
To fight the good fight
For I know it's my purpose to show people
There's a light
Deep inside of them even if they
Don't see it shine so bright
For I know that every line
And breathe, breathed in to me
Is for a reason
Addi gave me 19
19 reasons I wasn't swimming in a sea
Of misconstrued energies
Lost in repetition
Everlasting patterns
They poud on but never see
Round and round they go
In the pattern of the beast
Lost blindly in a daily regimen
A material sin
They'll never see
If it wasn't for like lost boys like
Addi
Who make it there mission
To tell everybody
That these lines have a reason
Each year an eternal voice
It's all your choice
Addi sketched something on a night so bleak
On a page once blank
A work of art I'm blessed to keep
And written above those masterful 19 lines
"Put it in your thought bank
You don't have to be alone
You don't have to run away"
To Addi wherever you're I hope you found what you were searching for
www.eugene-moon.weebly.com
 May 2014 bekka walker
amber
Each flower
I picked for you
I wished and wished
For your words to be true

But even the stems
Knew you told lies
Slowly, they shrunk
Without saying their goodbyes

Each flower i picked
Reminded me of your eyes
And the stems were are strong
As your permanent lies
I'm not sick
I'm just a bit bent
Over the fact that
My self hatred
And quiet quirks
Have landed me
In a societal prison
Under the jurisdiction
Of people
Who cannot look at me
With
An honest face.
And tell me
It will be okay
A reflection on my experience with mental health facilities.
 May 2014 bekka walker
Dot ty
There I was
Like a fish on a hook
Reeled in and cast back out
Cast out then reeled back in
The hook never even leaving my mouth.
Unexpectedly then, (evident now)
He pulls me to shore, (removing my silver trophy)
Lays me down to peel off my skin
Then he cuts me right open
But that's alright
A fish is a fish
And it's not as if he really meant to do this.
 May 2014 bekka walker
Tegan
The mountains are never lonely
as they are kissed by lilac clouds.
Painted by a setting sun,
spectators of beauty,
a part of beauty themselves.
Free of responsibility, or any need to call
on why the sun rises and then falls;
the mountains live a perfect life
a life of no troubles.
Live life like a mountain.
 May 2014 bekka walker
Blair
If
 May 2014 bekka walker
Blair
If
If the skies suddenly cleared up
And my tears suddenly dried up
Would my days then, be the same as old?
and would my heart then, go back to being whole?

If another came by
And swept me off my feet
Would my mind then,
forget how I loved you and also follow?
Would my heart then,
finally give up on you
and stop feeling oh so hollow?
I’m falling apart at the seams,
Trying to keep you out of my dreams.
Every night I see your face,
A perfect image of my shame.
A time in my life where I went so wrong.
I’ve moved on I just want you gone.

The memories come flooding in,
from a place in my mind that I thought was dead.
Who is that man pretending to be me?
Was I really that awful?
I’m so sorry.
A quick little poem that I had jingling around in my head and decided to write down.
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