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Brandon Smolla Dec 2016
Time? Its 9:00
Driving to town
You're happy to finally see an old friend
You call her your girl
Pulling over into a convenient store lot
You check your phone
Something came up
She canceled
Sadness fills you
So you text a friend
Earlier he said you two would hang out
But he canceled too
You begin to feel lonely
You message a bunch of people and no one responds
A cigarette finds its way to your lips and its lit
A walk around town
Dark and empty, you only see a few cars go by
What time? Its nearly 10:30
You're all alone
Sad, frustrated, lonely
All by yourself
You realize you've gotten to your second smoke
You keep walking
Brief moments you can see your feet and the walk way in front of you
The night is empty
The street lights are dull
Infrequent
The pavement under you chills your feet
A chill that creeps up the bones of your legs
Creeping
Until the hand ashing that cigarette is shivers
Back at your car
Time? 10:20
Your phone lights up
You're blinded by its light
A message
A stranger? A guy? A friend?
Someone you know
He "hits you up"
You know what he means
You're hesitant, but lonely
So lonely
The street light pass, like a drunk strobe light
Off and on, off and on
You can make out the worn and shaking hands on the steering wheel
You don't know how, but you're in the car, a block from his house, before it hits you
You feel sick
Lonely and sick
You're there
A dim light
A couch
Cold again, you're laying down
Now you hurt
Lonely, sick, and hurting
The world moves in rhythm
Back and forth
The dim light is a haze as your eyes unfocus to block out the world and its rhythm
Time? Its 11:15
Cold again the rhythm changes
You want to cry but can't
You haven't been able to in a long time
The third cigarette is smoked
Brandon Smolla Aug 2016
When my jaw tightens something happens. I become another person. I become the me that says the right things to scare away three ******* that want to beat me up. I can write the right words to make my girl remember she is mine forever and at the same time, remind myself I wouldn't have it any other way. My soul tightens with every muscle in my face to make me become something that is more than just me. I become my own experience for myself. First time I felt my jaw hurt I took too much adderall to ace a test I hadn't studied for. My heads and hand raced to write all the things I thought to say later. Paper and writing became a newly usable canvas for my vomiting ideas. It was great and terrible and in that test I thought of everything but algebra. I never took adderall again. My jaw tightens now when I need to be that more than just me. When I doubt myself and look for the answers. When my jaw tightens my face and my head hurts. Then I can think. I think of all the things I need to say or do and how to go about them both. My more than me comes when I clench my teeth real hard and my mind goes free.
Brandon Smolla Aug 2016
A dream is a ship
Made of wood, or glass
Like the hope for something more
It will never last
Bobbing on the waves of sleep
Loving the adventures it may take us
Until we start to drown in the dark deep

The nightmares take on water
And threaten to sink
Those we try to forget
Like they could never happened
The best dreams are are a yacht
Set full sail on a sunny day
But when they're gone, in comes the maelstrom
Of sadness and longing for what we miss
For what isn't real and what we yearn
The end brings tears and sometimes hurt
Ever waiting for that wind to return
Brandon Smolla Jun 2016
"You remember when?"
I stayed quiet and stared
And I sat while you cried
"And you remember when?"
I held your hand
While you balled and sobbed
Until your make up ran
In anger and sorrow you yelled and screamed
"And you remember when?"
Your tears ran out
And your lungs give no more
Your face turned red
And caked with dye
"And you remember when?"
I finally spoke
     It will be alright
And like that we smiled
Then you replied
     *you remember when...
  Jun 2016 Brandon Smolla
Emily Dolde
Yearning to say those words,
But not daring to enter those lingual waters.
Being entranced by the soft touch of
Lips to her own
Makes the once fear
Of expressing what is wanted
Vanish.

Except for these few words
Which remain trapped
Behind a closed jaw
And fingers which refuse to type.

The girl filled with stories
Becomes timid.
The girl who speaks of finding something real
Stops in the tracks of these words.
All in the name of losing.

Losing what she thinks is real.
Losing because of the release of what she has concealed.
Losing the thing she vanquishes sleep over.
Losing her realistic shot at happiness.
Losing the muse that sheds light
On her old soul.

Her soul is restless and dark,
Or so it seemed.
A hazy veil is lifted after years of cloaking
The true potential of an individual
That no one truly knew.

This unexpected unmasking
Came as a jolt,
Something electrifying.
It revived the girl's heart.

But still,
The girl sits waiting for a time
To unfasten her jaw and stretch her fingers
To reveal those words

Those horribly whimsical words.

— The End —