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When we were younger
We'd sit and play for hours
With dolls and beads and flowers
With toy cars and train tracks
And at the end of the day
We'd pack them away and put them all back.
We'd go down by the river
And laugh and shiver
And joke about growing old
Little did we know
What was about to unfold

As we grew older, the fires inside of us, began to smoulder,
The shoulders we'd come to rely on
Started to decay
As we made our way, into the world
Suddenly the dolls came to life
As our dreams of becoming a husband, a wife
Started to sour.
The beads formed nooses around our necks
As we began to lose our innocence
To drugs and ***.
The flowers shrivelled up and died
As we sat and cried our own rivers to drown in.
And those pretty little halos and silver tin crows
That used to iron out our frowns
S
   l
      i
        p
           p
             e
               d,
as we d i p p e d our toes into adulthood.
The toy cars crashed,
As we smashed head on, in a collision with reality.
And there was so need to plead
For the box with our train track toys
Because the little girls and boys inside us
Had died long ago.

And besides
We drew our own tracks up and down our wrists
And straight through our hearts.
As we began to realise
We were running out of
Fresh starts and new beginnings.
I thought I was getting better
Months flew by that only felt like days
and I don't cry when I think of you anymore
I told myself not to waste my tears on people who aren't worth it
But my grandfather died last night
And I still haven't cried
And now I think I understand why those months went by so fast
**
 Jul 2014 Julia Van Winkle
Remus
I pity you.
It's not the pity you would think.
I pity you because you do not know
what you are doing to yourself.

You are clawing on the inside,
your brain is melting into mush.
You are trying to hard to not
burst out crying.

I pity you because you think I still love you.
I do not love anymore,
that was only for seven months.
You do not know when to
let go.

I pity you because you still love me.
Anyone who loves me should be
pitied.
Seeing that I am someone who holds on.
I hold on to things I shouldn't like;
books, movies, people, blankets, and you.
Beautiful Lies

Every day
and every breath
we take remains a
beautiful deception
like the promise of
black coffee or
lemon seeds in tea.

© Ben Ditmars 2014
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