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I haven't touched the buttons of my mom's dress...

...من تا به حال به دکمه های لباس مادرم دست نزدم
 Apr 2017 Jawad
Kerry Mckie
Sometimes it's difficult, isn't it? To let go of the perfect illusion.
To stop believing that something so perfect isn't real.
I can't seem to let go even though the story is over.
I always knew the fantasy would end one day,
I just didn't know the ending would be this bittersweet.
Out of all the stories, yours is the one I'd revisit again and again,
Just for another taste of the life I wish I'd had.
 Apr 2017 Jawad
Chelsea Brooks
My eyes got heavy
And so did my sleep
And it was then that I dreamed you were visiting me
I still haven't accepted that you're truly gone

And I believe it was you, an angel now
Visiting me so that I could let go of my grief
I didn't remember it right away
But later in the day
When there was a throbbing in my heart

You were taken from me
By bullets of greed
But I will keep you alive through my memories
 Apr 2017 Jawad
Donall Dempsey
HER ROYAL ISHNESS

A woman
of few words.

She was considered
quite a dish.

So stylish.
A la Lillian Gish

"Are you cold?"
I asked as host.

"...ish!"
she offered

barely moving
her lips.

"When would you like to eat
8 or..?"

"8...ish!"

She could shoehorn her "ish" tidbit
into almost any conversation.

"Yes;.veggie!"
"No...no fish!"

She let her eyes
do all the talking.

She absorbed the room
and all the men and all their mores.

Found them wanting.
Knew what they wanted.
Wanted none of it.
Left them panting.

She left when it was getting
late...ish.

"Tired!"
"...ish!" she ished.

Like a ventriloquist.
Her lips barely parting.

She spoke with a lisp
and a cold.

So that a kiss
became a khiss.

I gave her the goodbye khiss
she wished.

She left and left us
each bereft.

As if a voiceover
or an intercom had announced

her departure.

"Her Royal Ishness
has left the building!"
اگر وابستگی من به خواهرم کم بشود
خودم را می کشم
...من او را دوست دارم
...من این را روی یک کاکتوس خواهم نوشت
 Apr 2017 Jawad
Ryan Holden
Her walls are
indestructible,
I throw rocks, stones and catapult boulders,
I chisel away through nooks and crannies trying to find a weakness,
I hit it over and over with a sledgehammer,
Yet no matter how hard I hit the wall
I cannot knock it down,
I have merely chipped my way into her heart.
A story about 2 people who are in love, yet one being an open book the other being closed.
 Apr 2017 Jawad
Stan Patty
Relentless Spring rains
Turn the garden into pools,
Soaking tender plants
Overflowing the gutters
And weighing down the bamboo.
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