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Emily Jun 2014
I'd like to thank my father on this Father's Day for all the things he did not do.

He did not teach me to tie a knot, stand up to bullies, or catch a ball.  He did not tuck me in at night, I never went to a father-daughter dance, no one was there to give the boys the evil eye or make certain I was home at curfew.

He was not a safe place to run to when I was hurting. And, I was being hurt in the most unspeakable ways. He did not defend me. He did not ask. He doesn't even know.

He never called me "princess" or "sweetheart". I never danced on his toes.

At my wedding no tender moment was had. No song played while he regrettably accepted that I was now grown.

He never knew the joy of bouncing his grandchildren on his knees...or his daughter and son for that matter.

I am forever grateful to him.

Grateful to have lived and grown without him by my side. To have learned my own way, become my own protector and provider.

Thank you, Father, sincerely. If you would have stayed I may had become something like you
  Jun 2014 Emily
Klara
I felt the leaves
on my tree
grow stronger
in your light
you should've warned me
that I shouldn't become
dependent of you
you should've warned me
that lights go out.
the titles are the only part of my poetry that I actually like ugh
  Jun 2014 Emily
mark john junor
tell me it was all a dream
tell me the beautiful wishing doesn't have to end
that a thousand years of golden kisses and
a universe of given completely to just being wrapped in your arms
tell me that the natural chaos of wrestling you in the pillows
surrounded by desires trance can go on forever
tell me that the spark like a fiery hunger in you
will be there to ignite me
i urge myself to my destination
to wake lightly in the salvation of your love
to wake lightly in the predawn and find you sleeping still
so i may kiss you awake
so i may be your dawn
as you have been mine
  Jun 2014 Emily
naivemoon
It's not that I don't love you. It's the time I read my mom's old journals and every other paragraph included my fathers name. It's that he cheated on every girlfriend he had with my mom. It's that my mom didn't care she was a second choice or a one night stand. It's that my mother never talked to anyone about him after he got married to one of the many girlfriends. It's that she took twenty sleeping pills on the night of what would've been their anniversary. It's that he doesn't even know she's dead.

It's not that I don't love you. It's the couple I overheard in the bread aisle arguing over wheat or white. It's that I heard the woman say a lot of "she" and "****" and I saw her crumble to the ground. It's that he just shook his head and said he was sorry over and over again.

It's not that I don't love you. It's that my best friend is in love with a boy on the other side of the country. It's the morning she took a shower and cried over him. It's that he wasn't even awake to do anything about it. It's that he's always three hours behind and thousands too many miles away. It's that I mean both physically and mentally sometimes.

It's not that I don't love you. It's my geometry teacher, who brought up her husband when she taught me tangents. It's that she also brought up her husband when she taught me the circle unit
too. It's that she gets quiet and smiles after she talks about him. It's that he's been passed away for seven years now and she still has so much to say. It's that she still wears her wedding ring. It's that when she taught me special right triangles, I wondered what her laugh might sound like if he were still here.

What I'm trying to say is; It's not that I don't love you. It's that I do.
My spinoff on a popular tumblr poem all are true
Emily Jun 2014
Just a cut, just a scratch.
What's that? It was just the cat..
Just an excuse, just another lie.
What's with all the bracelets? Just fasion, why?
Just a tear, just a scream.
Why were you crying? Had a bad dream..
But its not just a cut, tear or lie..
Its always just one more before you die.
Emily Jun 2014
Ana
I've seen this girl named Ana, she's pretty thin and tall, she has the smallest frame and not a single flaw.
I've met this girl named Ana, she introduced herself today. She seems so very nice and kind, she says she wants to stay.
I know this girl named Ana, she's so perfect and its true, I'm so fat compared to her, but shell make me skinny too.
I'm friends with this girl named Ana, I've started eating less, hating the person in the mirror, my lifes become a mess.
My bestfriend is this girl named Ana, I want her to always stay. All my other friends have left but she will never stray.
The only one I listen too is Ana, she's so mart and full of advice, I'm starting to get smaller. My health is my only sacrifice.
I'm scared of this girl named Ana, I can't get her out of my head. It finally accured to me, she wants me dead.
I hate this girl named Ana, she makes my life a living hell. Someone please hear my silent screams, cause she won't let me tell.
My worst enemy is this girl named Ana, she's a demon in my head, she seemed so nice at first but I was definately mislead.
I'm a prisonner to this girl named Ana, I'm captive to her will, I can't help to do what she says, how can I be so fat, still ?
My murderer is this girl named Ana, she starved me to my grave. My heart finally stopped beating, I just couldn't continue being brave..
Not my best but definately the one I've written that I could most relate too. My favorite poem.
Emily Jun 2014
An ex smoker,
          Picks up another cigarette
An old alcoholic,
          Can no longer abstain
A girl chews her lip, as a man starts to bite his nails.
A recovered boy,
          Drags a blade across his wrist
An anorexic girl,
      Tries to eat her salad,
           But can't hold it in
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