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 May 2018 Hussein Dekmak
eileen
would ask you about myself
you wouldn't know how to answer

I would ask myself
I don't have the answers

my reflection has left the mirror

my shadow is missing

feels like I'm a ghost

it's getting too cold

how have you been
is this it
I should be able to ask you a simple question

I haven't really told nobody

I have a fake laugh
I don't know where to find the real one

no one knows
I live for the rain
the sun
and the clouds

I'm obsessed with the moon
I talk to the stars

I sleep with the lights on

I'm raining on myself
I'm so sad

I want to ask you
who do you think I am

yet I've never revealed myself
to anyone

I'll ask the moon
I'll ask the stars
I'll tell the sun
I am the weeds growing between the cracks in the concrete.
A beautiful marigold, reminding others of sunshine
But I am still deadly, filled with bitter dandelion milk.

                                       No matter how pretty.
                                                  I am still,
                                                      Just
                                                        A
                                                    ****.

I killed your hopes and dreams
but... How?
I am the very thing that makes them come true.
I fly peoples wishes in the wind.

                                     No matter how magical.
                                                  I am still,
                                                     Just
                                                       A
                                                    ****.

I come back after every **** spray that decays me down to a black, ashy, flower imprint on the sidewalk.
I sprout back with more sunny flowers and more wish seeds.
I have rooted myself.

                                     No matter what you do
                                               I will always
                                                     Grow.
                        
                                 Your honey-colored nightmare.
Eat Me. I'm bitter.
We can grind our teeth
down to weathered tombstones

together.


Bound by love and sadness,
here we are
the rearguard of the desperate and the anxious -
holding hands
before an ocean
made of all the brakelights in the world.

There's no one I'd rather ignore warnings with
than you.
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