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Esmé van Aerden Sep 2014
There was a time
when we had the most innocently
beautiful romance.
It was something you'd see in the movies -
but none of this "Fault in Our Stars" ****,
but like... "The Notebook."
Which is still ****,
but it's the best comparison I can think of.

You came to me in the month of November,
and we were instantly taken with each other.
You said, in your amazingly adorable German accent,
"I'll only be here for a year,"
And I pushed that to the back of my head to save until
So perhaps it didn't seem as if we were counting
precious moments
in between easy conversation.

December came,
and snow fell with it,
as we continued to mirror the delicate
flakes descending on our noses
as we sled down neighborhood hills,
and you told me stories of your grandparent's house,
how knitting with your grandma was still a work in progress,
and the sock you attempted to make
looked more like a potato sack.
But this interaction,
you behind me,
I hugging onto your legs,
was the closest interaction I'd had
for the longest time.

That night,
I slept with you,
in the most innocent use of the phrase.
And when I woke, there you were,
gently stroking the small of my back,
smiling sleepily.
I wanted to wake up like this every time.

People would see us walking downtown together in spring,
and would sense our vibrancy,
and smile as we were lost in our own world.
We never spoke of being a "couple,"
and we never held hands or anything like that,
we just had a beautiful relationship.
And for once in my life,
even to this day,
I search for a man who was as respectable as you.

You left on an afternoon of June,
and told me you never kissed me because
"Loving you and leaving you are two things I cannot bear."
You returned two summers later.
And left again in late August.
Maybe one day you will stay.
The one man I've said "I love you" to and meant it.
Esmé van Aerden May 2014
Tan skin
Against soft creme.
Dark, ruffled hair
Intertwining golden caramel.
Low grunts
Harmonizing with sweetest melodies.
Thin, lying lips
Locking poisonous deceit.
Still air,
Silencing symphonies
Her grin.
His shock.
My naïvety.
Esmé van Aerden May 2014
"You are my sunshine,"
My mother would sing to me.
But I am the grey.
Esmé van Aerden Apr 2014
On Tuesday,
I drank tea with a skeleton
named Eileen.
Her fingers were long,
and her lips were drawn
like a frown, unable to move.
It was a sad sight to see,
and it convinced me to be happy,
now matter the weather,
and she said --

If I were to die,
which I will, one day,
I would like to pass in a forest,
for surely it is curious
for a life to end
where so many

So we laid her body in a bed of daisies
and painted her eyelids with raspberry tears
and coated her lips with the Queen's honey
and covered her naked corps with ferns
so that she finally experienced the embrace of a Mother.
Cause she said --

If I were to die,
which I will, one day,
I would like to pass in a forest,
for surely it is curious
for a life to end
where so many
This is a song I wrote, with a combination of my own original poems combined.
I wrote these poems separately with a good friend of mine in mind. She was like a sister to me, and ended her own life a few years back. Her home life was awful, and she didn't have a mother, and would always talk about how sad she was that she didn't experience the love of a mother. She suffered from countless mental health issues, and I do believe her soul is at rest now. I hope you enjoy it x
Esmé van Aerden Apr 2014
i fell in love with him
on a cold december morning,
when the sun was just peering through
much as i was,
catching a glimpse of his green eyes
and goofy grin,
and too-big ears,
and freckled face.

i  fell in love with him
on a breezy february afternoon,
when i was at a show,
and he asked to sit next to me,
our eyes locking,
hearts thumping,
bodies twitching nervously,
as i whispered,

i fell in love with him
on a warm march evening,
when we crossed paths again,
and he sang sweet melodies softly to the audience,
never knowing i was there,
and never will know
i was there,
clinging onto his every note and movement.

i fell in love with him
as many others did,
as many of the books i read would tell me i would,
as many humans foolishly have over the centuries,
as many will continue to do.

isn't it strange?
I attend a thespian festival each year and see him there. We have talked on occasion, yet I am too frightened to go speak to him. I don't know why, I can talk to many people. But I stumble and stutter if I ever am in his presence.
Esmé van Aerden Apr 2014
We made a promise -
"Love each other till we die,"
What do I do now?
Esmé van Aerden Apr 2014
I fail to notice
Men's eyes outlining my body.
I fail to notice
Men's whistles as I walk by.
I fail to notice
Men's words escaping them with the wind which runs through my hair.

But I do notice
Men's firm grip on my delicate wrists.
I do notice
Men's sweet aroma as they snarl into my ear.
I do notice
Men's ***** fingernails on my soft, milky-coloured waist.
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