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 Jul 2016 Death by Decoy
Pea
how could you
be both
a man of
a few words
and
a man who has
all the words?
 Jul 2016 Death by Decoy
Pea
i'm just a conflation
of swollen lips
and drunken midnights
 May 2016 Death by Decoy
Andrea
i am fascinated by the connections high school forms. who knew that that friend of a friend who was my sixth grade enemy’s classmate was the ex of my best friend? it’s a labyrinth of familiarity and camaraderie, and some might call it a trap; if it is, then it’s the most beautiful maze i’ve gotten lost in.

one too many times, i’ve made a list of my own; of people i know, of faces i recognize and of everyone in between. i’ve mapped out names and drawn lines to them like a game of connect the dots, all those relationships overlapping like venn diagrams with open ends.

with that being said, oftentimes, i wonder how the people i know describe me to strangers. i wonder how many times my name has shown up in conversations i was pushed to be part of.

i barely have anything to say about myself, so what would they have to say about me?

that kid with a camera. someone who can write. pretentious tweeter, Tumblr girl, member of a few clubs and organizations. student. *****. daughter. sister. ******. friend. it’s a possibly endless list and a mess of adjectives.

most days, i don’t know what- rather, who- i am... but here’s one thing i know:

i don’t want to be just another person in a story.

i’m not just ex girlfriend; not just used-to-be classmate; not just girl best friend; not just someone’s crush or someone crushing on someone else. i’m not somebody else’s past or future or present. i don’t want to be just that, don’t want to be confined to a constellation of connections that someone has created for themselves. yes, i may not know who i am yet, but i won’t let myself be a pronoun thrown around, a fill-in, a joke to tell. i’m not your punch line. not your ice breaker. not that one person you should talk about when the rivers have run dry, if you know what i mean.

i’m a bigger believer of coincidence than i am of destiny. i am here because of my choices, a build up of everyone else’s words and actions over the past years. i am here not for a reason- i am here, and along the way, i’m making my own reasons to be.

you know me not because of a bigger plan. but maybe because i ran in to you in a hallway. maybe because the administration put us in the same group when we were transferees. maybe because you complimented my music taste. maybe because i asked if i could tag along to your auditions.

we are whatever we are because of choice; of coincidence; of chance. call it luck. call it unfortunate. call it karma. this is what we have; this is what we are; this is what i am; and it can only be accounted to you, and i, and so many other people, and so many other factors.

you are bright and warm and beautiful. you are a constellation without them. don’t let yourself be a secondary character. this is your story.
be the villain, be the hero, be whoever you want to be. believe this:

you are not what other people say you are.
nothing beautiful in
starting small
the beauty is in
remembering
how
small
you
started.
Hush hush, my dear.
The ravens have flocked.
The wolves howled your agony.
Your grievance is comforted.
Agony is no more.
For now.

These words I have written,
Over my restless mind, in an incandescent midnight,
Mundane, it seemed:
Scribbling figures I have seen in my sleep,
Staying for days inside my head,
Staying forever inside my heart.

I saw Darkness embrace me,
Calming, yet haunting at the same time;
Not once have I ever seen him like that,
He didn't look like a terrifying past,
Nor did he look like a havoc in my future;
He looked like a frail lover.

I orchestrate these words in my wake,
My mind recites chastity:
Too severe to put in words;
None say the same,
Yet all are torture like one another*,
Yet all are true like one another.

None seem adamant to be my savior,
None seem illuminated to be an answer;
I rot in my head, I barely hold myself together,
I gushed all but blood;
I shouted all but words;
I held all but, hope.
I can't help myself anymore. I'm a victim, so it seems.
I want help but I don't know how.
Alas! YOU have arrived
To soak up my words
May you drink them in
Delight in them
For they were penned for YOU
I know not your name
Nor will I see your face
But, you were on my mind when I wrote them

I knew you would come one day

And be touched by these few words
Not yesterday, not tomorrow, instead today
How was I to know the time
The timing I leave to you

I am just glad you came

Its never too late to proceed
For the words in my poems
Are meant for just the right moment
Filling a need
Easing some pain
Perhaps they turn your frown upside down

That is why ...

I continue to write

And ...

YOU continue to read
Ever notice how people meet your words at just the right moment
 May 2016 Death by Decoy
Laxus
You don't need me
But you want me

Is that reason
Not enough for me to hope
That you're destined for me?
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