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  Apr 2015 Ellie Shelley
Astrid Ember
You know that stupid
Cherokee Tale I told you
about. With the sun
and the moon and the dying
star?

You can assume that the moon
broke the sun's heart.
Shattered it.
But she still shines
bright. Really ******* bright
that is.
And I bet she
misses him.
Misses him a **** ton.

I miss you a **** ton.
And ****.
I don't know what to do.
I..... got really drunk and sad and wrote stuff.
  Apr 2015 Ellie Shelley
Astrid Ember
Its insane how many
memories can be held in
a park.
Or even the
library it's attached
to.
And the McDonalds down
the road.
A couple basements
in one apartment
complex. A couple
basements in another.
The hallway where
your friend used
to live. A concrete
platform.
A couple muddy short cuts.
The gas station across the
street you stole a
30 pack of beer from
and ran here to drink it.
Oh god.
All the times you've
gotten drunk here.
All the times
you ****** in cars here.
You rolled a joint here
once too.
The Walmart over
there where
you got arrested.
That roof top over there.
When you snuck onto elementary
school grounds. That forest
you got high in and couldn't
find your way back home. The
streets you prowled
and made yours
trying to feel alive.

I wish I had enough
time to tell you
why the world is
so cruel.
Or, hell, even enough
words.
Maybe even enough
experience with its
cruelty.

We were all born
innocent.
What turned us
into monsters?
What turned us
into wolves that
nip at lambs.
Their cotton
wool now stuck between
our teeth.

Is it because we
Don't floss enough
And there are
now dead memories
mashed in our
mandibles.
Were our canine
teeth not cut
down soon enough
when we were young.
Did they give me
glasses too soon?
Is that why
I'm still so
blind to the
traps I keep
walking in?

Maybe if they
had waited until
3rd grade instead
of 2nd I'd have
a sense of the
hairs
on the back of my
neck rising.

Maybe I'd have
a sense of danger
instead of giggling
as I fall off cliffs.

You get older not with
time but experience.
Or so I've heard.
I've heard that if
you have enough
memories people will
call you old.

Who the hell gave
memories so much
power.

Who allowed memories
from just a bottle
cap to break down my
walls like they were
fiber glass in winter.

I'm not a glass doll.
So why am I chipping.
Why are my insides
cracking and outsides
freezing in place.

Who gave him the
power to put life
inside of me, and
then decide that
I was too much.

Who let him
play God?

He is beer and
behind the library.
He is cut fingers
muddy knees
bruised knuckles.
Sore necks.
Sore muscles.
He is this ring
The hoodie at home.
The back ground
music to us
*******. He is that
**** van, taco bell
and his dad's wrecked
tourus.
The hand I held
as my knees knocked.

He's the one who's
always been there.

Nobody has ever
made me feel so
full and contempt.

I think of myself
as a scavenger. A
voulture, but I feed off
The living because I
fear I am already
dead.

He made me feel alive.

Now tell me who let
him play God.
Ugh. Why do we love things.
  Apr 2015 Ellie Shelley
Astrid Ember
Inhaling the smoke,
my ****** *** imagined
it being tattooed under
my skin.
I thought if I cut my wrist
clouds of THC would flow
out instead.

I leaned against her, cold,
thinking I'd fall into the
street and have it engulf
me. I swam in the gravel
until she moved and I
snapped back into my body.

Accelerating too fast, I fall
into myself in the carseat
and flying forward with
the break and I was out
of my head again.

And I'm thinking about you
now as the music flies by so
fast it slides over
my ears.
How the last time you grabbed
me like you needed me
was when you ****** me on
a picnic table, ****** in a park
around midnight.

And I remember why I didn't
need *** when I was with you.
You alone gave me short term
memory, made everything feel
smooth. I didn't need a
drug to make the sunrise
beautiful. Not when I could wake
up and turn around in bed
and have your arms to fall into.

Sounds moving to me like
clouds fogging my eyesight.
Pulling me like you did.
Deep vibrations crawling into
my spinal cord.
Shrieking pricking my finger
tips to see me bleed.

Poisoning my body to say
I've lived.
I still feel my skin
crawling from those
extended release beads.
Throat burning from
the pack I smoked just
last night.
The burns on my arm from
when I was too wiped out
to notice my melting flesh.
My skin still remains
liquid. Smoke leaking
through and I have
become a crater.

I have become paper.
Maybe I am on fire
and that's why my head
is still full of smoke
Why I can feel everything.
Why I can see every particle of
dust just as lost as me.

Maybe I am just
air, and that's why
I'm afraid of you touching me.
Your hand will go through my
stomach, touch my spine.
But you will find I have
no backbone.

Just these titanium bars
That tried to straighten
me, make me stand taller.
Tried to fix me.
I learned to grow like a vine.
Like poison ivy I am
smoke creeping through your veins
being tattooed into your DNA.
I learned to grow like a ****.
Wild flowers are weeds aren't they?
Maybe that's why they call me one.
Explains why everything around
me is now dead.
Wildfires are disastrous
but I've heard I shine like one.
Maybe I am harvesting
Everyone's life to make mine
better and longer.

They see beauty in my thinning
addicted body.
Maybe that's why when I was
high, I prayed to God as
the sun lit the road on fire.

I said I didn't think I'd ever seen
anything die so
gracefully.
I haven't been sober in weeks, and all my poetry now is just this. Weird words thrown together and called metaphors.
  Apr 2015 Ellie Shelley
Daniel Magner
Ink smudges cover
the side of my hand
All because of
you
Daniel Magner 2014
  Apr 2015 Ellie Shelley
Astrid Ember
Glass has been shattered.
He's shattered.
On the floor and
I don't know who he
is anymore.
The light from the
exploding sky
has no clue which piece
of him is fit to shine
off of. Like all of him
is just so dark, no light
could ever escape to reflect.
    
There are always hidden
sights, you just have to
care enough to see. A Chinese
hut on the mountain with a
waterfall that turns into
the night sky.
There's a man in the sky
who's got tentacles for
half of his face. Northern
lights turning into vines
and flowers. A waif living
in acid with a cape of smoke.

The cracks in your lips
aren't just from the dry
weather. Your teeth are
rotten. I know it started in
your jaw. From clenching it
so hard. It started in the roots
of your molars. Was that just
the cigarettes? Has it spread?
Is that why the bags under
your eyes look like you're
leaving for good?
You carry it all on your
shoulders. Is that why
they always lean forward?
Guess you ran out of room,
wiped your eyes, set the
carry ons down there.
Your eyes droop already but
you'll be ****** in an hour.
Maybe you'll get so high you
can hang on to a plane,
find your destination
from the sky. It'd be easy right?
A place without clouds.
You want to see the skies so clearly
the angel's are practically
right next to your face. You could
stroke her wings with your eyelashes.
That is if you even blink. They wipe
away the poison spilled on your
tongue. They rub off your
bitterness like it's my eye shadow
on your shoulder. Pat your head,
erasing the memory of me. Because
I'm Alfalfa's out of place
cow lick that forgot how to stay
in its chains of hair gel and grease.
Forgot how to keep low,
forgot how to keep my neck
out of reach of all the razor
blades threatening me from the
walls. A conversation with you
is like putting on a ******...
Which we never do. How ironic right?
    
You're shattered. Been taken hostage
by the words in your head. Or maybe
I never knew you at all. Maybe you've
always been cracking, and I got to see
the tape give up and peel. I watched you
pick at the glue. I've seen you smile
as your entire being spilled through
the cracks. I missed the suspension of the
show getting a joint for your flowers.
I thought I'd get something to make you cough
instead of sneeze. I was thrown into
your big crowning glory. The huge
******. The insanely dramatic
denouement. When everything left, you
crumbled in. Your empty bones became
sand inside of you. I watched you in the
middle of the circus ring. All lights
focused on your skin. Your left knee
in the center of a couple cross wires.
The red dot sight focused on your chest
a ruse for us to expect firecrackers soon.
The dot shaking unsteadily having us on
the edge of our seats. The lights are
alternating, spinning, going faster than
the blood pumping past my ears. Somewhere
drums sped up and clowns slid out of
balloons like mercury. All shiny, their
eyes sliding up and down from fingertips,
to their right shoulder. They danced, spun,
Their bodies reflecting the light's lies to
our ears. The lies spin, transforming flying
at me faster than your fathers words cut your
strength. He slit your resilience's
jugular and already choked out your
light. We saw none of this. Eyes
focused on the red dot. You're swaying,
half way through the tight rope taking
a ****. The same star design circling
the ground becoming your pupils.
You never exhaled. But we see that last
cloud of THC seep out of your pores.
Liquid clowns suspended by your perspective,
start giggling at my shaking hands.
Their lies almost cover me like spiderwebs.
I feel them lick their lips like I'm
a meal they can't wait to pick out of
their teeth.
And I whisper "My bones will pierce your
lungs. I am made of razor blades, hollow
pipes, and my blood is infected with
plutonium. He is already glass, dust, you
find an annoyance to sweep off the
floor."

Cobwebs made of dead skin falling from my
ears, sliding off like an unsupported
pair of sunglasses. I hear no bullet.
But I see you get another puff out of
the roach. You smile, spread your arms.
******, tattered, wings rip from your
shoulders. The angels didn't give you the
beauty they promised. Lies are like enamel,
layered in everyone's mouth. Your last words
were shouted into a crowded circus tent,
but they echo only inside my pulse. Seconds
pass like minutes. Children giggle in
front of me. Intoxicated on the whiskey
they sipped from their dad's coca-cola.
Their father's looking at the pictures
he took of his secretary. The mom at the
house "working". Too busy riding the same
secretary's face to tag along. Everything
floating by me. Strings I could pluck, make
music out of dead lives for the bullet
fighting it's way towards my mosaic window.
He's shattered. His insides decayed. His
body condemned. The mortician said no
embalming was needed with this one.

I was too busy focusing on how your body
swallowed the light. You became a swirling
black cloud of battery acid. Sulfur
assaulting my airways. Arsenic unnoticeable
but my stomach covered in it, eating my
organs. Everything went into you.
There was no shadow, everything was
engulfed in your tornado. No silhouette
for my peripheral vision to catch while I
watched your magic trick. How long have
you been dead?

You tried to put on my gear, armour, if you
will, I burned it. Not wanting to give
you the satisfaction of helping me
while simultaneously snapping every bone
in my body. You couldn't prepare me for
this. No matter how much you tried
to explain, I wouldn't be able to grasp
the red dot disappearing, a bullet going
though your knee cap. The boney see through
wings tearing through your skin. Shouting
"I'm golden."
The wings tried to take your body with them,
but the rotted bones weighed your
cracked shell of a body down.
Your take off failed. Furthermore the angels
****** you up, they went back on their deal.
Your eyes shine like they've had halo's
stuck in them for years. You're 17, ******
up in the head, and your last words were
a reassurance.
    
Did you know I'd hear you?
Did you know your body would explode
into a cluster **** of gases? Toxic enough
to singe your eyebrows.
Everyone's cheering. I see the spiderweb
lies stuffed in their ears like cotton
I wasn't wearing safety goggles.
I wasn't ready for your skin
to fall like ashes. Bone shards stuck in
the ceiling. One jutting from the
moving eye ball of a clown.

I realize you've become a snake.
Shedding and leaving your skin by
my back door. Habit's changed.
I'm an old *** rag, that you're
probably never going to wash.
I want to glue you back together.
Lay in bed with you again, have the sun
shine brighter than your eyes.
When I was so deep in love fluff I
hadn't realized someone ****** on
the cotton candy you had just bought.
I want to go back. Everything used to
be so simple. School, work, hang out with
you, go home and sleep.
  
Just tell me one thing...
How'd you fake being alive like that.
You've been dead for months.
But you burned brighter than
The exploding sky that refused
to shine on you. Maybe you breathed
it all in, ****** the entire sun
into your bones.
Is that why you finally crumbled?
  
Why did you die?
Why did you crumble?
Why did I have to find out
at a ****** up carnival?
It's really long I'm sorry. I was in like an adderall trance. And I don't remember writing but I know it took all night, and I think it's kind of good. Idk.
I wish I could put into poetry
How I feel, exactly
Without sounding so **** cliché
How I want to run away,
Every day, is spent
Amongst decomposition and decay
A dialogue of broken words
From dead flowers in a vase
A truth I can't evade
That time on Earth is not a thing to waste
Ellie Shelley Apr 2015
Fingertips
running over her hips
Your touch on her thigh
Has her screaming silent cries
As your hands go low
And your begging her to show
But she doesn't want to go
All the way
She tries to keep you at bay
But you are persistent
And she tries to be resistant
But your pushing is to hard
And your acting as if she has no heart

So she lets you in
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