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Jasmine Flower Dec 2014
I prefer water over air.
Before my parents divorced,
I was kept alive in my mother's womb by water
before air even made a home in my lungs.
I was born and baptized in water,
water that the Catholic church labels as pure,
pure like the tears of joy
that ran down the faces of my parents
on their wedding day.

Growing up, I told them
I wanted to be an astronaut
so they took me to the community pool
and I was almost convinced
I was floating in space,
but I could still hear their rings
clanking though the water.

Water kept the flowers alive in my mom's backyard
and provided something to wash my dad's dog with
Water brought him back when he went overseas
and water was the only thing
that could short-circuit his phone,
where the text messages were sent through air.

You see, air gives the privilege of flying away,
air passes through my dad's lips
when he whistles a song I don't hear anymore,
it gives him the voice to say, "I love you"
to his new family.

My fondness of water grows from
seeing old family beach photos,
the ocean is captured like the smiles on their faces,
air isn't visible
Water makes the sky blue
the same sky that ties together our broken family
It keeps the wetness in my mouth
so I can pronunciate the words
"mommy" and "daddy"
Water makes me float in zero gravity like
their astronaut again
Water is the familiarity
in the old pipes of our house
Water is mixed into the church wine
we went to on Sunday's.

It was my mom's safe substitute for alcohol
when my dad left.  
Water quenched our family,
but I guess
drowned my dad.
most personal.
Jasmine Flower Oct 2014
fingers write
fingers work
fingers type
fingers in skirt
fingers chewed
fingers picked
fingers blue
fingers make me sick
fingers on hands
not for holding
fingers like guns
always controlling
fingers dig
dig to the core
fingers are not only
just fingers anymore
  Oct 2014 Jasmine Flower
This is a note
To you.
I'm sure you'll know who you are if you read this*

You've become a weakness for me
Someone I can't stop thinking about
You're on my mind constantly
And I know this is crossing that line
That was drawn last night
But there's a chance you'll never read this
And I'm not telling you in person
So, really, this is alright to do

You're one of the greatest people I've ever met
And for some reason I can't get you out of my head
I can't focus on anything
Sometimes it's internally embarrassing
Also, I can't comprehend why
Someone like you, so wonderful and unique
Would ever even think of someone like me
Someone so drab and boring

I'm supposed to be doing math right now
But these thoughts kept nagging at me
And since I'm not supposed to tell you personally
This is all I can do
And at this moment i feel ten times better
Than what I used to
And you'll probably never see this..
But at least I got this off my chest.
  Oct 2014 Jasmine Flower
Sal Gelles
you killed everyone in your head
including the loving person i knew,
growing up with a best friend
that ended up being my mother,
and the past twelve years i watched
as you died and the heartbreak
you caused all who loved you
and by denying the help they gave you
by denying the help you needed
to accept reality the way *we
have to,
and so as you've killed us all
and isolated yourself to the point
that i'd had to write your eulogy,
for you couldn't accept your life's detachment
from everyone, ties you severed yourself,
and that me being the only one left
left me with no choice
but to bury you six feet deeper
than the demons i created on my own
because I can't take care of yours too
in the fifth circle of hell
after I've escaped purgatory senses
and discovered my freedom's as a man.
I hope they can forgive you and you can get your wings.
I'll cry harder this year watching It's A Wonderful Life alone when that bell rings.
Jasmine Flower Oct 2014
My lungs
on each breath.
Cigarette ashes translated
into words saying,
"I cannot wait to be
from these
I am tired
of spilling through
each crevice;
the air you breathe
is almost
kissing my
written in class
Jasmine Flower Oct 2014
How can I ever tell you that
in the 21st century,
as innocent as you are,
you will be sexualized.

It started with
one peak under that skim cloth
that made you an icon
Halloween costumes
turned your baby face into
the mask of a "babe"

There are no more dogs
struggling to tear your short shorts
now only mutts scattering clubs
hands dangling onto your belt loops
as if they were in the middle of a hurricane

You, Coppertone Baby, didn't know any better
you were minding your own **** business
vacationing on the beach
when somebody had the audacity to snap a picture
of your ***.
Sweet little girl,
you are us.

You are society's expectations of innocent women
so easily willing to publicize our bodies
printed on billboards
sold in magazines
You put your hair up for vanity
but we tie our hair back to avoid
violent hands
You, Coppertone Baby
will never be known as Cheri,
just like today,
we are branded into the clothes made to hide our bodies
but couldn't do it enough
we are the voiceless

We are the shadows hiding behind anatomy
we are nip-slips
we are on the front cover
of ******* magazines
You grew up not expecting it
merely existing
only knowing the words,
"mommy and daddy."

Welcome, Coppertone Baby,
to the present, not so much a gift
where your first words are now,
"thank you"
the camera is constantly pointed
constantly asking you to sit pretty
you will learn to avoid beaches
and only buy the clothes
that suffocate your skin

I know you were meant to sell sunscreen
but how can I ever buy your product
if I can't even hardly
go outside.
Tracing the outline of your scars
Is like reading your soul.
The stories they can tell.
Just more parts to your whole.
Never cover them,
Do not be ashamed
Your scars show the truth
Of life filled with love and pain.
They are a part of you,
What makes you truly whole
I'll trace the outline of each scar
To better understand your soul.
For a friend.
You know who you are. :)
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