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Brenna Gracely Nov 2020
Every road
Every path
Every step
Led me to you.
Every road
Every path
Every step
Leads me away.
Brenna Gracely Nov 2020
Where does a snowflake end
And the snowpack begin?
One assumes the individuality of the snowflake is conserved
But I watch it disappear within moments of contacting the others.
Is that what will happen to me?
  Nov 2020 Brenna Gracely
you never asked to read my poetry
maybe that was the sign.
i told you i wrote for fun,
you shrugged and moved on.
red flags went up everywhere, but i didn’t bother looking
Brenna Gracely Nov 2020
You always kept me waiting
and your skiving left me blue...
I stopped creating a masterpiece
because I was painting it for you.
Brenna Gracely Oct 2020
A glimmering white stone flickered
in the depths of a murky snow melt pool
tucked behind a mess of brambly bushes
and surrounded by pine.
A man stepped into the frigid water
His handsome reflection (distorted by ripples) drew closer
as he reached in and plucked the stone from the muddy floor.
By inspection he noted its apparent imperfections
that hadn’t been visible from the surface
It was wrapped in cracks that had filled with dirt and grime.
“I thought you were perfect.”
He grumbled with dismay
and began picking the dirt from the cracks with his fingernails
which themselves became ***** and ragged from the effort.
He cursed and pulled a brush from his bag
And began to incessantly scrub.
The brush made the surface of the lustrous stone shine brilliantly
Yet seemed to force the dirt deeper into the cracks
So he reached for a needle
And began sliding it through,
scraping the stubborn grime.
His face wrinkled in acrimonious disgust
when his needle broke against it.
“I cannot enjoy a stone so riddled with undesirable scars!”
He scoffed
“I will find a better stone elsewhere,
One that is clean and pure.”
And he tossed the stone back into the pool.
(  ( ( ((plop)) ) )  )

Years later, a wanderer covered in scratches and dirt
stepped softly to the pool
and bent down for a much needed drink.
The stone dimly peeked from under a layer of silt and slimy algae.
He curiously reached in
and pulled it from the mud.
Rolling it over in his hands, he smiled and sighed
“Oh, beautiful stone
Once without contusions
but now weathered by the world.
You have survived trauma and time,
Yet still shine
so magnificently.”

He brought the stone toward his heart
and continued over the mountain pass,
Smiling pleasantly at the storm ahead.
Brenna Gracely Oct 2020
The surrounding crowd rocked into us
Knocked into us
But we sweetly swayed
Like two soft rose petals riding the wind
Our collision was a soft embrace.
You ever find someone to dance with and completely melt into each other? I fell in love with my lady friend that night.
Brenna Gracely Oct 2020
A forced, facsimiled smile
crept upon my weary face
to help construct the wall between us
although its design is in poor taste.

It’s as if mankind colluded
albeit leaving out few and far between
to create a solipsistic kingdom ruled by masks
while truth lay dormant in the unseen.

Should I shatter the aporia
That occludes our interaction
Or propitiate the insipid bond we share
to neither of our satisfaction?

****... I need some coffee.
- - - —— - - - —— - - -
I guess I wasn’t feeling very peppy that day.
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