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There was a time
In which laughter
Was outrageously contagious.
She was with them,
The people who
Made her feel the happiest.

The first:
Who sat beside her;
With his long strawberry blonde
Flowing behind him
As his head rested
On her shoulder.

His laugh was gleeful,
His music taste unlike any other.
He blasted cassettes
Out of the handheld
He kept in his backpack.

The second:
Who sat across from her;
Who was beautiful,
Inside and out;
With dark hair
And glistening light eyes.

She had a beautiful voice,
No one ever tired
of hearing her singing.
Her laughter was fun;
Lighthearted, despite
Her inside struggle.

The third:
Who sat at the end,
Diagonal from her;
With longer blonde hair,
Enjoying the card game
Being played beside him.

He rested,
His eyes closed tightly.
Listening to the beat
of his tired heart,
She presumed.

The fourth:
Who sat on the left side
Of the beautiful girl;
Smiled and laughed
With the group.

He was calm,
But exuberant and enjoyable.
A warm smile spread
Across his face,
Reached his light blue eyes
That complemented his brown
Cropped hair.

It was at this moment,
Sitting alone
Weeks later
That she realized
That these were her true friends.
She missed them dearly.
hang the clean laundry
on the rafter
above my head

tired hands
wring out drenched
sweaters

clothing above me dripping,
the drops fall on me
like rain
If I was found lying,
Would you kiss me?
Would your rough ****** hairs brush my lips after skipping shaves?
Would you mourn my still body,
Lying in the glass casket?
Would your eyes speak of pain,
And your lips whisper that you still loved me?
Would you hold my hand in one of yours, and in your other hand would you touch my chilled face?
Would you lean down to kiss me again,
But this time…
Will I wake?
This is inspired by an indie boy and the classic fairy-tales, Sleeping Beauty and Snow White.
We both read our scripts,
but we're not on the same page.
You and I are just actors
who treat life as the stage.

We rehearse our lines,
but they're not what we mean,
for once lets break character
and call cut on this scene.

We could steal the show
if we rewrite the play
and end the charade
of this macabre matinee.

We've reached the finale,
there's no encore after all.
This is our shot,
our last curtain call.
I find her lying
With a smile across her face.
She looks as if she had accomplished something great.
Glassy eyes stare at the ceiling,
Frozen hands around a trigger.
I look at her and wonder “why?”
I find a note, the only thing written:
“I hated the world,
I hated myself,
I decided it wasn’t worth the pain.”
I realize,
A pure heart with an abused brain can only go out so many ways.
She went out with a bang.
What happened to the once-Great State of South Carolina?
What happened to the southern Hospitality, for it turned into Hostility?
What happened to the southern Pride that Tied us together?
What happened to the once-welcoming Communities and land of Opportunities?

What happened to the state I Live In, where things were never Given, but they were earned?
What happened to the people Surrounding me, though once proud to be here; are now Astounding me with hatred?
What happened to the beautiful Places and smiling Faces; all I see now is Destruction and Disgrace.

I love my state, yes. I love my people, yes.
But where did the charm Go, all that is around now is shade to Throw.
Where is the southern Charm, and the love where we would give an Arm to help our neighbor?

Here lie the broken Families, the torn palm Trees, in the once-Great State of South Carolina.
To be loved by a poet
is to be embroidered with feelings.
To be torn apart,
examined,
and put back together as words
instead of flesh and bones.
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