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 Mar 2013 Brittany E Grant
brooke
I was the
strongest
two years
ago, today.
(c) Brooke Otto
"weird.
i can't sleep either.
i just wrote two poems
about how much i hate you
for leaving.
i was starting to think god doesn't listen
to people who ***** their entire family over
but maybe i was wrong.
sorry for being blunt,
but that's who i am
at four in the morning."

i can't believe
i just sent that text
it was kind of an accident
but not really
chew on that
homewrecker
(mother)
When the girl with sunken eyes
and white lips mutters to herself on
the subway, remind her that there are
plenty of things to worry about, but for her,
losing weight isn't one of them.

When she gets off at your stop,
invite her for coffee. Even if her
eyes are throwing daggers at you,
and even if every instinct in a normal person
would be yelling that her track marks are just that,
track marks, and for all you know
she might just shove a letter opener into
your stomach for the contents of your pockets.
A few bucks for another spoonful of hell.

Lace your fingers in hers after she reluctantly
agrees, and without missing a beat,
talk about how no girl should pass up free coffee
or free alcohol. After all, there is the
economy to think about.

Gossip to her about people you
pass on the street, and when she settles
into her signature silence, tell her about
how you love to make up life stories
for the people you see outside your
apartment window, and how you've never
admitted that to anyone else.

When she leaves, after a warm vanilla latte
and two cinnamon bagels, tell her that
you should do this again sometime,
and make plans to meet her again next week.

When next week rolls around, don't be
surprised to see your alley rat friend
missing.  Instead, smile and think about
all the important reasons she couldn't make it.
Like staying in to finish a term paper for law school,
or picking up an extra shift at the local volunteer hospital.

Then turn to the little boy next to you,
scared, *****, and without parents,
and offer to walk him to the local church center.
Because these days, no one should have to feel alone.
Written late at night, finished the next morning. Love to hear what you think, especially on the title and the last few lines.

EDITTED!!
you always struggled
to fit in
the girl you loved
hated you
I said it will be okay
and I took your hand
to walk with you
you fell on me
but I always
brought you back up
I said it will be okay
when you told me you didn't
love me yet
I silently cried
but still held you
tight
to my beating heart
it was a cold night
when I found out
you lied to me
when I found out
I wasn't the only one
you cried with me
while I let go
of your hand
but I still said
it will be
okay
Tell me how you can love such a heathen.
Tell me how you look into my eyes and ignore the demons.
Tell me how these chiseled horns hidden by my hairline are irrelevant.
You speak of love, but tell me what you can tell of it.
Tell me how I have proved myself worthy.
Make a believer out of me and at least act like you heard me.

I'm everything to you,
And you're everything to me,
But if you strip me down to the core,
I swear you'll hate what you see.
it's 1:36 in the morning
and i have a hunger
in the pit of my stomach
that can only be satisfied
with the knowledge that
you, dear, might be aching
for me too.
These tears burn,
more than the razor.

Your smile was like ******,
it pervaded my body.
Changing the chemistry of my brain.

The sun borrows it's light from you.
You make the ocean feel parched.

Too much of you is not enough,
while enough of you is dangerous.

I wish I had more time,
to taste your sugar coated lips.
I wish I had more time,
to breathe in your galaxy of scents.
I wish I had more time,
to live under your light;
engulfed in your darkness.
His teeth are crooked, bent and brown
   he grins with mirth, eyes pointing down
   his hollow head contains a thought
   friendly, yes but pleasant, not.

His whims, in fact, are quite alarming
   for what's on his mind is harming.

He wants to steal and take what's mine!

Alas! Why must Death be charming?
The death rate in America is still the same as every other country. One per person.

--Ace
 Feb 2013 Brittany E Grant
Ria M
Feeling lost and feeling lonely
Can't I be your one and only?
Wandering along to my own heartbeat
Life's more fun with another pair of feet
A *** to squeeze, a hand to hold
A pocket to put my fingers in, when they get cold.
Someone to splash when I jump in puddles.
A lover to stop me getting in a muddle
A friend, a foe, a confidant.
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