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thirty years
since Mark gunned you down
thirty years, passed
like a long sleepless night
that ends with taunting morning light
no brilliant sunrise grandly pronouncing
a glorious new dawn of man
although that would have been your plan
with your entreaties to give peace a chance
and imagine, imagine, imagine

now I kneel in this rain gray park
like a reject from some holy ark
a pilgrim in doleful disappointed pose
after seeing what your earthly brothers chose
was not to imagine a world of peace and love
but to wear reality like a cast iron glove
making mockery of your martyred chants
proceeding like a billion scurrying ants
deaf to your childlike pleas

across the soaked soil where your ashes lay
yesterday and today…and tomorrow
I feel the soggy sorrow
that you would have felt
if you could still see
all the rage of humanity

(written 7 years ago on the 30th anniversary of the ****** of John Lennon)
I was forgetting you.

But no, you wouldn't let me do that this time either.

Who would you be if I forgot about your existence?

No one. You're turning desperate.

Showing up to see if you can still play me.

The answer is No.

Parasites are meant to go extinct.
 Dec 2017 Chamilla Colton
CAM
I was fixing some of my poetry,
Just now.
I went to type something.
But autocorrect somehow works like fate.

I figured it would be something simple.
Like changing a few letters.
But I didn't get just that.
It auto corrected to your name.

And I miss you.
So much I can feel the empty cavity
Where my heart isn't simply because...
It belongs to you.

I keep feeling this pain.
And sometimes I wonder why.
Why you aren't here,
Why I can't see you.

I wish we could facetime,
Or text or relay
Messages through friends
So I could talk to you again.

But I have seven and a half months
Yes. I've been counting.
In my head and out loud.
On the days I need grounding.

And I miss you
I miss you
I miss you
I miss you

I miss you every day
All the time
And I don't know why I can't seem to stop.

...
Stupid autocorrect.
I don't know why it did that, but his name popped up and inspiration struck. Maybe I've just typed his name to often...
i wish i could lay with you
like we used to
to be in you ams
and breathe in your cologne
and be safe
to feel all my anxiety melt away
in your warm embrace
i made another one because i couldn't sleep last night, all i could think about was you
your breath was intoxicating
breathing you in as we'd lay in your bed
it was us against the world
as i would press my lips against your soft jawline
i felt safe and warm
wrapped in your arms
i felt like we could do anything
i felt in love
i guess i just assumed
you felt the same way
 Dec 2017 Chamilla Colton
CAM
Why do I use 20 questions to identify how well I know you? Is it...
Because I know I can barely answer twenty questions about myself?

Twenty. Simple, right? Never.
What's your favourite colour? Always first.

Where is your happy place? Usually second. Followed by...
Where do your roots plant you? And then we get personal... A bit.
What do you hate most about yourself? For you it was everything...
Why should I hate the same things you do?
I like everything about you...

Why do I write lists so I can remember? I may never know.
To remember what? Your voice, your look, you....
Why do I miss you so much?

Why am I still writing to you? You'll never read this.
Why am I missing you? It's been four months.

Why do I look at old pictures of you? Is it...
Because I miss you? Maybe it's something else...

Why did you become a big part of my soul? My other half?
Why are you still there? Because I miss you...

I can't stop thinking about why? I miss you...
What is keeping me here?
Oh yeah. You.
I play twenty questions to know people. To let people know me. It's weird.
4 days have passed
and you're all i've had in my head
a broken record
playing over
and over
and over again

i'm sorry our conversation turned the way it did
i never wanted to tell you
because i had already broken your heart
but i didn't want to lie to you again

you always hated when i lied

i always hated when your collar was up
and you knew that
just to see the face i always made
i bite my lip and fidget with my ring

how i'd love to fix it for you
how i'd love to brush the hair out of your eyes
how i'd love
to hold you again
i've finally written a poem, i'm sorry it's taken so long
i've seen all of you
from your victories
to your anxiety attacks at 3:00 am

i don't think i've ever seen you in ankle socks
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