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Dylan Mcconnell May 2018
Your love is like a rose and a dandelion.

Like a rose because it's thick to get to.
It's hard to find the soft, pretty, beautiful, spots of you.
Because there's thorns in the way.
It's like a rose, because you are beautiful and red.

but it's also like a dandelion.
****-y and unhealthy.
dangerous and probably will result in disfigurement, but baby bring it on.

I say this because your love is toxic.
because you didn't love despite all the effort I put in.
I have nothing positive to say
  Apr 2018 Dylan Mcconnell
i
it was a dumb idea
loving you,
and even a dumber
idea telling you,
but the dumbest idea
was believing you.
I hate you.
Dylan Mcconnell Mar 2018
So. I woke up this morning thinking to myself, what are my values?
For some people, it’s trust, love, and honesty.
For others, it’s authenticity, compassion, and leadership.
Well, I thought about it, and not to sound like a hipster but some values are so stupid.
Other values, however, are pretty heckin’ cool.
I think I really value loyalty and trust.
Along with security and self-respect.
Lastly, I think I value creativity.
WAIT.
Did you see what I said in there?
-
-
-
-
I said “I think (...)”
I don’t think I value creativity.
I ******* know I value creativity.
That **** roots me.
That poetry?
Yeah, that stuff is awesome and makes my heart beat millions.

I know I value loyalty and self-respect.
Without that, we get nowhere.
I also really do value security and trust.

Lastly, I’d like to end this piece of art with a bit of truth.
I value you.
Yes you, the one reading this.
I love each and every one of you. You're so nice and compassionate.
  Feb 2018 Dylan Mcconnell
Quinn Berube
By now you know I’ve moved on from your ways;
Eaten by your cruelty, my soul is gone;
A tear is shed by many night and day;
The extent that you’ve hurt us is far too long.

A flame holds it’s wick when a strong wind blows;
Just air it holds onto to feed its life;
Of all things here, it’s the only thing that glows;
Some are burned by the flame, pain like a knife.

However, it’s gone eventually.
Give or take time, when the wax does melt,
Races are then finished essentially,
A pain you inflict but have never felt.

Can I ask you this while you’re still around?
Enter here, I’ll make sure you’re never found.
This poem is written in memory of my friends Beata, Josh, and Grace in which I lost to suicide.
Dylan Mcconnell Feb 2018
Rhonda is just a friend.
“A cat scratched me”
I love you.
Never, will I hit you.
Believe me.
Obviously she’ll be okay.
Well, I’m sorry.
Dylan Mcconnell Feb 2018
I called my mom today because I thought she stops panic.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
I think my mom’s the one who started the panic. She started the panic by having me three months early.
She started the panic by not believing my cousin ****** me happened.
She started the panic by putting my in the foster care system.
She started the panic by killing all the solar systems in you.
She started the panic by murdering the a e s t h e t i c.
She started the panic in all the one million ways you can think of.
My mom slowly kills me.
Dylan Mcconnell Jan 2018
I've survived 9 suicide attempts.
Been in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU) twice
And
Lived to tell the tale.

I've been molested and *****.
Been able to tell my story in multiple ways.
And
Lived to tell the tale.

I'm not a survivor.
No.
I'm a liver.
I've done my surviving phase. That was miserable.
Now?
Now I live.
Not sure what the actual heck this is?
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