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Emelia Ruth Aug 2012
I love you.
For everything,
that you are,
that you were,
and the amazing person you are going to become.

We seem so perfect for each other
but so
distant.
Two missing puzzle pieces
that fit immaculately together,
lost.

We tried so hard to stay connected,
but our edges became worn
and images faded.

So you stripped me
of everything I was.
You took all my colors,
all my strength,
all of my will,
and left me as just
cardboard.
Soggy,
from the tears,
of a shredded heart,
streaming from within.

But over time,
my skin dried
and was stained and crinkled.
Showing a new picture.
A new me.
Stronger.
Happier.
And even more beautiful than before.

I love you.
For everything,
that you are,
that you were,
and the amazing person you are going to become.

It's just that you don't love me...
Emelia Ruth Aug 2012
She has hair
short,
and even though
she has the face of an angel
and a heart of gold,
she can't be a natural beauty
according to the world.

The waist line of her dress
on her
long torso
falls a couple ribs short.

A couple seconds short
for 1st place.
She will push and push
getting her short legs
to take her as fast as they can go
and get in
4th place.
Not a natural runner
that's for sure.

But her legs are strong
and so are her hopes,
she won't stop running,
she won't stop trying.
She will keep pushing
to get through the barrier
that's almost as thick
as her stubborn skull.

In that cranium
she will jam
months
of school work,
assignments,
pages of blank notes
into one night.
She wakes up the next day,
takes her final exam,
and comes home with a
barely passing
D.
No, definitely not a natural student.

But she will take that D
and make it something
beautiful,
something worth looking at.
An object more than just a letter,
where lines to her
are perfect and proportionate
and can flow onto the page
at her own pace.

That big red D
on that paper of black and white
now looks like a unicorn
jumping over a rainbow
that emerges from the depths of the ocean of
Failure.

Her parents look at the paper
and say
"Wow, you are a natural artist,
but you know what that gets you?"
"What?" she asks.
"Nothing!"

But she is the girl
with the short hair,
the long torso,
and short legs
that carry
the biggest heart
and the thickest head.
No matter how unnaturally
things may come to her
she will keep going
with a huge smile
on that angel face of hers.
Emelia Ruth Aug 2012
I wish we didn't have to breathe.
That there was no need to exhale
before we take a picture
for things to look their best.
That there was no need to inhale,
because all that is left
is the pollution of a world
full of empty people.

I wish we didn't need to breathe.
That instead
all the empty people
were full.
That we inhaled
beautiful, undying, unconditional
love
filling our chests with it
to the fullest capacity.
And instead of Co2,
we exhaled
hatred,
sadness,
regret.

And watched it rise above the clouds,
above Earth's atmosphere
far past the stars
and into the corner of the galaxy
in Time-Out
until it can learn to love,
and it will come back as
the stars we gaze at this very moment,
my head resting on you.

I listen to your heart skip beats
and feel your chest
fill up
with my love
and breathe out
your pain.
Emelia Ruth Jul 2012
You give me butterflies

I've never understood that phrase.
Butterflies are
majestic
beautiful
colorful floating snow flakes
in the summer breeze.

You don't give me *butterflies
.

My butterflies
aren't light little fingers tickling me.
They are strong hands
wringing my insides
squeezing them out of me
like I'm a tube of tooth paste.

But what comes out is an unruly passion for you.

It seeps through my pores
and comes as zits on my nose,
but they don't bother you.
My passion
trickles
from my eyes
as tears at night
wishing I could be held
in your strong
yet graceful arms.
It arrives in words,
that I eventually stutter out as
"Hi"
when I'm next to you.

I sit on a porch swing at a friend's party one night.

You sit next to me
and smile
so bright in my darkness.
You whisper to me,
your lips wisp against my cheek
like delicate wings
and take my hand.
You pull a pen out of
your khakis pocket
and draw a
small
simple
butterfly.

And as cheesy as it was you whispered to me

"You give me butterflies"
A huge smile came across my face
glowing with yours in the night.
I took the pen in my hand
and drew another
butterfly
but on your palm
and replied,
*"So do you."
This was a poem I wrote really quickly, it was more like an idea that I thought should be more like a poem.
Emelia Ruth Jul 2012
I sit on my back porch.
With the fire pit roasting at my feet,
keeping me warm and comfortable
as the rain washes away my worries.

The white wicker chair
old, but strong
cradles me into a cocoon
as my blanket hugs me.

The fire twinkling in the dark of the evening,
pruning my feet like the sun does to raisins.
Its flickers and waves amuse my eyes
as I feel its flames tell me a story.

The moon and stars,
as old as they are, still shining bright.
My friends that I look up to from time to time.
for clarity and wisdom, and are not thanked enough.

I listen closely to the rain’s rhythm on the tin roof
as it sloshes its way through the clogged gutters,
to the sound it makes when it hits the concrete ground.
The sound lures me into a new… better world.

Here,
in this place of love, ease, understanding, welcomes, and real friends
there is no worry, no stress, no judgment, no guilt or pressure,
just the perfect place to be when the real world isn’t perfect
… Although eventually, you will have to return.

But for now
I feel the playful gestures of the flame’s warmth, wisp along my feet.
I listen to the soothing harmonies and captivating rhythms of the rain.
I watch the sun turn into a bright full moon and the clouds turn into sparkling dancing stars.

This is where
I want to be.
I dream to be.
I live to be.
Emelia Ruth Jul 2012
I do not fear death.
But I do fear wasting life.

I don't fear the pain
of my skin burning,
the emptiness
of my last breath,
the aching
of leaving the ones I love.

I do fear
the lack of scars etched into my skin.
I do fear
the emptiness
of my thoughts.
I do fear
the tears that I will never cry
of a broken heart.

I want to meet all the people of the world
and share our ridiculous stories
before my lips become silent.
I want to make mistakes
and learn to be right the next time
before I see the Devil.
I want to fall in love with the Earth,
with the people that walk on it,
with the mud that gets under my nails,
with the sunlight and rain that my skin soaks up
before my body shrivels into ashes
flowing in the wind.

When the comes that I should die
and I still have not lived
I should beg the Lord
Give me one more day
I beg you, please!
I wish to feel the sun bake my withered skin.
I wish to smell the bitterness of the sea.
I wish to see the stars dance at night.
and hear the laughter of children running by.
Let me live
for one day
and I'll let an infant take my place.

I do not fear losing life
I only fear losing a life a that never got to live.
Please, I am open to critiquing. A friend inspired me to write about this and I want to know how to give a better image in the readers mind. Thank you, enjoy!
Emelia Ruth Jul 2012
Child of mine,
do not hold your breath
for that your heart will become heavy.

Child of mine,
do not clench your fists
for that your bones will ache.

Child of mine,
do not restrict yourself
for that you will never learn.

Please child of mine,
let out your air,
your pain,
your regret.
I am only one of the many
that care about you.
So let out your tears,
let them trickle down your face
and run down our skin.

Child of mine,
take your breath
of cleansing relief.

Child of mine,
open your pale hands
and let me hold them.

Child of mine,
let yourself make mistakes
and be right the next time.

We will help you
carry the ocean of life
and eventually
it will evaporate
to where it's only memories and sand.
Then you can sprout wings
where your fins used to be
and fly to a better world.
But right now child of mine,
let it rain.
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