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 Jan 2015 Emily Ann Keilley
rey
you wait every night for the same thing you always avoided everyday. it comes at three a.m in waves.

first wave:
remember yesterday?
how you couldn't get this right?

second wave:
here's a bit of your past
here are new ways to regret it

third wave:
it will soak you dry
and drain you to sleep
goodnight

sometimes they last longer than you expect
and i always want you to build a boat
Every day
I get to see you
is the last day
I want to be
on this Earth.
I want to die
knowing my last breaths
mingled with yours
and yours with mine.
Your hand is the
last warmth I want to feel
before I turn cold.
The blue of your eyes
is the last color I want
to see before the
white light blinds me.
 Aug 2013 Emily Ann Keilley
MB
Dearest Mr. Green,
It was an honor to have my heart broken by you. Your book, The Fault in Our Stars was one of the best recommendations I may have ever crossed. I thank you deeply for all the hours of pure giddiness and tortuous pain that you created in both Hazel Grace and Augustus Waters. However, I do have many questions about Hazel's future: does she ever loose her battle to her cancer? What happened to Augustus's parents soon after the loss of their son set into reality?

Your story honestly had my heart ripping slowly into pieces, the way you described how Hazel Grace and Augustus had crossed paths and went down a beautiful road into the hearts of all your readers... gave me the deepest appreciation of the young fighters of childhood cancers.

As a daughter of a cancer survivor, I've had my fair shares of visiting support groups with my mother while she was going through her treatments. I remember the panic I felt every time she went in for PET scans and Chemo, worrying for any ounce of her body to betray her. Thank you for making the pain and worry of cancer so beautifully worded, and the uncertainty of how quickly cancer can easily take the happiness away from someone.  
Thank you for the hopes given to me when you wrote the heartfelt words, “Some infinities are bigger than other infinities.”

You are truly an incredible soul with a heartbreaking habit of writing books with main characters who tend to die of some serious form of illness. I find you to be both evil yet so perfect when it comes to your stories. You are my inspiration. However, I am slightly upset that AIA is not a real book. It would be quiet a wonderful rollercoaster to ride.

“Sometimes, you read a book and it fills you with this weird evangelical zeal, and you become convinced that the shattered world will never be put back together unless and until all living humans read the book. And then there are books like An Imperial Affliction, which you can't tell people about, books so special and rare and yours that advertising your affection feels like betrayal”  Yours, could not have put my thoughts onto paper in any more of a perfected way.

Yesterday, you gained a new fan. I adore you as an author and person. I really do.

Sincerely,
m.b
July 11, 2013- I have yet to hear a reply...
I want to know when
                            Exactly when
The beat of the drum
                            Had turned into
The beat of my heart
                            Trying to flee.


Please explain to me
                            how smooth twirling
And energetic
                           leaps through the air
Has now turned into
                           leaden horror.


When did the music
                            Lose its power
To inspire me
                            And let me dance
But instead make me
                            So dead inside?
 Aug 2013 Emily Ann Keilley
dk
You can be my forget me not.
Don't give it a second thought.
Just commit me to memory
Remembering every sensory
Experience.
Lets leave nothing mysterious.
'Cause I'm already curious.
Virgo to my Aquarius,
Horoscopes are hilarious
When they match our routine.
You've got the brightest green I've ever seen.
Show me some songs, grab the coffee or tea,
Or what ever else has caffeine!
This can be our forget me not,
So you never have to not know me.
 Aug 2013 Emily Ann Keilley
mia
I suppose maybe I should sleep,
To rid of these crazy thoughts.
Maybe I should take a shower,
Paint my fingernails a summery color,
Run myself a nice warm bath and light a scented candle,
Pick up a pencil and sketch my surroundings,
Dial my lovers digits and have a meaningful talk,
Read my favorite book for the 213th time,
Put on my glasses and count every sparkling star shining bright,
Perhaps I should even name those stars,
Maybe I should bake some cookies,
Maybe I should do something I absolutely adore doing.
Yes, I suppose I should.
But the one thing that tops all of those things and wins every time,
Is the one thing I shouldn't do.
Something I don't love to do.
I pick up the gun,
Silence myself by wrapping my swollen lips around the tip,
My finger barely slips,
And the wall behind me is stained crimson red.
Suicide
Gun
Red
Blood
He looks at me
in that way that men are supposed to look at women
my eyes sparkle for him
they are stage lights, they dazzle him
blinding him
to the fact that he is not the one
I wish he was
I wish he wouldn't fall in love with me
my heart can't be healed by him
because it's no longer in my chest
it's been taken away
I hear him whisper the words
I pretend to fall asleep in his arms
no reply
then one day my pulse quickens just a little
my eyes sparkle without me telling them too
my laugh is real
he has not healed my heart
but I feel the emptiness less
maybe if I let him
he can make me real again
I don't even know you.

So why are my feelings so strong?

Why does every breath I take

Whisper your name?

Why do thoughts of you

Encompass my every day?

Will these feelings go away?

I hope so.

I hope not.

I don't even

Know You
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