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Emma Sep 2015
If you look in the corners
Of my heart
You'll find One
One was the first to plant
The small seed of love
In my young heart
From it flourished a red rose
He found it so beautiful
He decided to rip the petals off
Once he held them in his hands
He decided to go find another rose
One was the first
I wanted him to be the last
He was there in the past
He will be there in the future

Two
Was the second to arrive
He found the red rose
And saw that it was dry
His eyes were oceans
And he drowned the Rose in them
He was not satisfied with having
Only one Rose
He found someone else
To be his last
I opened the door for him to leave
So he wrote his name in the past

Three
Was the Christopher Columbus
Of the oceans of my heart
Three rediscovered the dying rose
And nurtured it
til the petals grew back
He wanted to erase the past
So he painted the petals white
And said it represented innocence
He adored the Rose
And admired its' beauty
He sang songs for it
Believing it would
Grow more beautiful
2 months too late
He realized it never would
He loved the idea of the Rose
Not the reality of caring for it
So he ripped it out from the roots
And wrecked it with his hands
He left empty handed
And left me empty hearted
Three was the third
I still dream about him
Being the last
I wish he wasn't
Stuck in the past

Four
Was a gardener
He knew his way around flowers
And had with him many dying roses
I should have known
He planted a rose bush
Fed it love poems and pretty songs
His voice was the only water
The roses would ever need
Once they had bloomed
He ripped them out
And went on his way
Onto some other heart
He was never truly mine
I had always been his
He won't be my last
He left too many scars
I put him in my past
Three, I still dream about you being the last
Emma Sep 2015
Sometimes I think
Our love was like fireworks
Lighting up with night sky
In my soul
I said, "***** caution labels
I've dealt with these before"
But I stepped too close
To the explosion
My heart shattered
It wasn't your intention to hurt me
It wasn't my intention to fall
Some nights I still stay up
Just to see the fireworks explode
Just to feel like I did
When you told me you loved me
Just to remember
That sometimes
Even the most painful experiences
Can be beautiful
We were beautiful
I hope you remember us that way too
On New Years Eve, I stayed up to watch the fireworks from my window. I wonder if your first thought was of me like mine was of you.
Emma Sep 2015
If hospital rooms
were made for the terminally ill
my heart would reside in them
until it's beats completely still
I fell in love with cemeteries
the day I found out
they were so full of history
and maybe that's why
I fell in love with you
But you were a cigarette to my lips
a shot of nicotine darkening my lungs
I felt your effect from head to hips
I grew comfortable with hospital rooms
the day I realized
they held hope throughout the doom
I grew comfortable in the beds
grew accustomed to the taste of the pills
to take away the pain that formed in my head
You were a slow growing death
a tumor to my body
I never realized how much it would hurt
until I was far gone
I have learned
From now on
There will be no more
emergency room heart breaks
no more
"it-feels-like-dying" heart aches
My heart is
mine for the taking
it will no longer be
yours for the breaking
I still think about you every time I walk into the hospital.
Emma Sep 2015
I deal with loss
like people deal with death
I lose someone
or something
and to me
it is gone forever
I grieve it
for months on end
on the chance that
I will never come across it again
People call it dilusion
I call it protection
I lost you, I think. I'm still grieving, I guess.
Emma Sep 2015
Before I met you
I had favorite songs
I use to sing along to
in the shower
When I met you
I realized you liked the same songs
I would listen to them and smile
thinking of you
When you left
I still had your songs
I would sit in the shower
and cry while I listened to them
Now that I've moved on
I listen to the same songs
and wonder why I ever
stopped singing along to them
while I showered
I have found joy again.
  Sep 2015 Emma
Akira
He told me my scars weren't beautiful
And I told him that no one could ever really admire a masterpiece
Without taking a few steps back
Your scars make you who you are and no matter what you are beautiful
Emma Sep 2015
They wonder why
I still write about you
But how can I tell them
that I still think about you
that I still dream about you
that I still pass the places
where you existed
and have to stop to catch my breath
How can I explain
to those who love me
that pain is optional
but I accept the pain
if it means feeling you again
if it means having you back for a second
You were a forest fire
and I was a leaf
I loved you so much
I learned to deal
with the burn
that comes along
with your warmth
I still write about you because I don't know how to stop.
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