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Emilee Ayers Jun 2016
I can't sleep
I can't think
Until these words are out of me
But they seem
To prefer to be
Nestled somewhere out of reach
Even when we
Find release
They will haunt us eternally.
Until death brings
Some sort of peace
I'll gulp down these fickle longings.
Meh.
  Jun 2016 Emilee Ayers
Bailey
I was taught to add and subtract at the age of four. My twenty year old mother would sit me down on the grass while waiting for my aunt to get out of high school, and teach me my numbers on her big, scarred hands. I was five when I realized something that would change me for the rest of my life. The number six and the number four are both just one away from being a solid five.
At six years old, my classmate and I were given our daily snacks. My friend had gotten six crackers, while I got four. I asked, “may I have a *******?” She reminded me that I had already gotten my napkin-full of crackers. “But if you give me one, we will both have five.” She bugged her eyes at me.
“I wanna have more,” she said. I shook my head at her, and ate my four crackers.
I wanted to participate in my elementary school’s food drive when I was ten years old, and in fifth grade. I was motivated to make a change for families in need of canned food. When I went home and asked my mom for cans, she explained to me that the cans that my schoolmates were donating would probably end up in our pantry, because we get our food from the local foodbank. I looked up at our pantry. I saw some dusty cans in the back that hadn’t been touched, and multiple cans next to them. I then remembered when we didn’t have even one can, and thought of the families who didn’t have even one can right then. And then I thought: But we have six, and they have four...
A homeless man and I both had five the day I bought him a sandwich when I was fourteen.
My best friend had four when she was sexually abused, and I gave up one when I shoved past the school security guards and got her to the hospital at the age of fifteen.
The year I turned sixteen I figured I had six when I realized there was an unfairness at my school. I gave my fellow students one when I convinced the principal to make a change about it, after being sent to him for disturbing the class with my speech.
I gave up one of my six when I turned seventeen and wrote the inspiring story of my brother’s car crash, for all of the people with four in their broken hearts.
As long as I have six, I will continue to give one. I won’t stop until everyone has five, and the world is one big ten.
  Jun 2016 Emilee Ayers
Ocean Blue
... an olive tree,
To give you some shade,
A drop of water,
When emotion dries your throat,
A silent breeze,
When you hold your breath,
Your lighthouse,
When you sail through your storm,
The blood
That runs madly through your veins,
The flood
That spills your wells.
Sweet Darling,
Don't you feel that
I can't stop loving you,
Morning and evening too.
Throughout the years,
I will be
Waiting for you,
If you still want me.
Emilee Ayers Jun 2016
I'm your somebody
Waiting patiently
Until you find me.
Emilee Ayers Jun 2016
This road speaks to me again
Like it has in years past
Drowning the sound of voices
With the noises of tires on pavement.
Feeling that familiar tinge of something
I struggle to define.
Struggling to conceal my differences
And stifle anger fueled by frustrations.

I'm sorry, I can't help it.
The highway sees this side of me
Every time we meet.
Journaling in the back seat and this threw up all over the page instead.
Emilee Ayers May 2016
Ink soaks in to paper
Wherever I tell it to go
Evidence of my existence
An extension of my being
The abundance of my heart.

May my life be a story worth telling.
12.30.15
Emilee Ayers May 2016
My heart is heavy
Same as before
Vaguely familiar
Yet nothing is sure.
Fear keeps lurking
Waiting to creep in
But how can I be sure
That there's no truth in it?
I keep my pen moving
Across any page I find
It keeps my heart beating
And fear far from my mind.
12.30.15
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