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 May 2016 Samm Marie
Innocent
She lay beneath the soft cotton of the universe.
Hands bound by the silk of the vines.
Her green eyes flutter like the wings on a butterfly.

Anticipating his touch, she shivers with excitement.

Beg, he whispers in her ear.

I am your master,  your king.

Please, please.

I am your servant, your captive.

Take me upon the web of your lair as my will no longer belongs to me.
I obey and submit to you, for you will watch over my soul.
I will do this with joy and happiness.
#SB
 May 2016 Samm Marie
Bailey
Once upon a time, I fell in love.
I fell in love with stormy gray eyes and russet brown hair.
I remember in third grade when she got her first pair of glasses.
I remember in sixth grade when she got her first pair of *****.
And the mean kids said they were golf *****.
I fell in love with a loud, obnoxious laugh and brutal honesty.
I remember in seventh grade, we had wood shop, and I spent more time in the corner with her than I did with my "boyfriend".
I remember our inside jokes, her little notes.
I kept every single one of them.
I remember the first time I slapped her back, because she always slapped me, due to her ADHD.
I remember telling her I liked girls, to see if she was alright with it.
I thought she'd never love me like that.
I remember in eighth grade, when she told me she was jealous of my girlfriend.
I remember our first dance, under the light of a green glowing exit sign.
And our first kiss...
I remember at the school dance, my mom made me wear that dress but it looked so nice pressed against hers.
I remember telling her goodbye, lying to her because I made a promise to someone else.
But not long after, we were together again, in her stepfather's car.
I remember he hated me, very much.
I remember she didn't care, as she sneaked me to the side of the house and let me put hickeys all over her neck.
Her pillow smelled like strawberry shampoo.
I remember taking her to lunch, and giving her my grandmother's ring.
I remember carving our names into that tree.
And Lauren's birthday party, where we were closer than ever before...
I remember after that, when the girls came upstairs, her pants were on inside out and our faces were red.
I remember ninth grade, she had always been the only one who had ever fully supported me, in all my years and phases...but I said goodbye again.
Torn away by that same girl I felt obligated to, felt I owed my life to.
I remember her tears.
I remember her poems.
I kept every single one of them.
I remember dating others.
I remember missing her.
Then we came together again, it was the best time of my life.
I remember leaving again---I hate myself for that.
I remember her tears and poems.
I kept every single one of them.
I remember tenth grade, I was with him for so long, but I still missed her.
I remember nearly leaving him, when I wrote her that book...
Our love story.
It is eleventh grade, and I have always loved her.
I will always love her, mourn her, write for her.
But she will never know,
She can never know.
Because I won't be able to live if I ever break her heart again.
College is coming fast, who is to say I could give her what she wanted?
I can't chance it, I won't be selfish.
If keeping her safe is loving her from a distance, then that is what I'll do.
I know I will never love like I loved her, ever again.
What we had can never be recreated.
I will never be fully happy.
She is the one.
But possession is the opposite of love.
I will not interfere with her life again.
Not only that, but the lies I have told my friends and family over the years, about not loving her, still eat at me.
Me and my stupid pride.
I dream about her all the time, talk to her everyday.
I wish I could spend the rest of my life with her, and just be happy.
Feel protected, loved, and supported.
But I don't deserve her.
I will remember her even as I lay dying, with someone else's ring on my finger.
I'll remember those eyes, that hair, her crooked smile, her glasses, that kiss, our dresses, her tears, her laughs, her poems, her singing, that slap, our jokes, those notes, that tree, that night, that exit sign
that exit sign
that exit sign.
Once upon a time I fell in love,
and I never landed
I will never land.
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We are a collection
of fear
of what we will
regret
when we are no
longer able to
take in breath

Everyone fears
leaving a blank
journal
behind
For those
readers who
survive
 May 2016 Samm Marie
John B
Crying in my beer.
"Don't do that brother."

Why not?
There she is
There she is right there
But I'm too shy to dare
To dare to talk to her
 May 2016 Samm Marie
Bailey
When I was six years old,
my brother slept on the couch.
And sometimes,
I would sleep beside him.

I would creep into the gray night,
and whisper scratchily toward him:
"Clyyyde!"
"Hmm?"
"...Wanna play Download?"

I had picked up the word from some adult,
and had absolutely no idea
what it meant.

But this is how it worked:
I would lay on the floor beside him,
and as soon as I said
in my deepest six-year-old voice,
"DOWNLOAAD!"
we would pretend to dream.

When we 'woke up',
we would have to tell each other about it in detail.
That way, we could have tons of dreams
in one night.

Mine were always lands made out of food.
Because I was fat.

I don't remember his.
Probably 'cause they were stupid.

I'm so glad I still have the chance to play
at least one last time.
 May 2016 Samm Marie
Bailey
Death
 May 2016 Samm Marie
Bailey
I think it's
walking through a closed door
that was always open
one of my good days
We all have that immature crushes,
One that's based on looks,
Popularity and social status.
But you know what these things don't last long,
So do the crush
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