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Mar 2020 · 102
Juicy Fruit
Izzy Kiely Mar 2020
All you had to say was that you lost someone
You didn't have to lose me too
We were by the lockers and you unwrapped

I asked how you were doing
I wasn't asking to swap gum
All you’d snap back was with a harsh “I’m fine”

You lose your flavor but I still kept chewing
You gnawed on me then spit me out
Just a stale was left in your mouth

I wanted to help you unveil the hurt
Stick with you like you were the wrapper
But even you weren't aware of the gum under your shoe

I could taste our friendship disintegrating like an old stick of juicy fruit
Mar 2020 · 175
You
Izzy Kiely Mar 2020
You
“you have reached the voicemail box of 773…”
i remember hearing this almost every time i called
it got to the point where i would leave a message

a slow, long, sad, message because i knew You wouldn't hear it
i cried myself to sleep often
my pillows were the only ones that knew my pain

it's been 9 years now mom
have You forgotten your baby girl?
or has she been replaced with a new colt 45?

i've grown up so much mommy.
i had my fair share of heartbreak and my fair share of loss in only 9 years
but where have You been?
have You even thought of me?


have You replaced me with a new brand of cancer sticks?
or just a simple plain crooked yellow smile?

do You think of me on my birthday?
...because i often find myself wondering where is she?
pleading to my pillows

that i am still that little girl you once upon a time loved so much
...just not so little anymore.

You never saw me when i hit the winning homerun on my high school softball team
or when i got the villager role in Beauty and The Beast
did you know i played softball?
or is it always about your empty bottles?

You never even knew i wrote poetry
let alone it being about...You!

you’ve done it for 9 years now
what’s 9 more gonna change?

there's so much I don't know about you anymore.
but i know one thing...Your life seems to be pretty good without me
so that's ok, i think my life is better off without You
and Your various new hobbies and addictions

so go back to that old rusty liquor store
keep living a life without me
because i will see You in Hell

not because i will be there too
but because i will be looking down on You
with a bottle in your left hand
and a death wish between your teeth
This poem is about my birthmother who left me for beer and cigerettes when i was only 8.

— The End —