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Jenna Richardson Nov 2012
I should have beat your *** last Tuesday,
spit in your face, and right-hooked
your loose jaw.

Instead, I pressed my fists deeper
into my things
while you ******* at me
like a sorority ******* Adderall.

After all, it would be hard
to give me that snide smile,
if you didn’t have any teeth.
Jenna Richardson Oct 2012
I remember the exact moment we met,
You told me my blue eyes matched  my dress
And with blood taking hostage of my cheeks,
I made fun of your German name.

Yes, I can remember
the first time I snuck home to our bed, guiltily
lifting the feather comforter we spent hours picking out
in Bed Bath and Beyond.
A blanket that now weighed as much as a semi truck
crushed around your sleeping body.

Lying beside you, no dreams came
to relieve me from my reprehensible  thoughts.
But it became easier. So easy, that one night
I didn’t feel a thing when I slid under those weightless covers,
Kissing you goodnight, mumbling something
about ******* coming in late.

I remember the exact moment we met.
His black rimmed glasses and off balance smile
As he handed me a cup of jungle juice in a dim, packed house.
His compliments felt all wrong,
Like they should have been coming out of your mouth
But I drank them in
faster than the jungle juice in my ***** plastic cup.

Your face
the day you walked into our room,
that’s what I remember, and wish I could forget, most of all.
I’d coached myself for this moment a so many times
I guess I  never thought it would actually come.
I don’t know what was worse, the lies
falling from my mouth, or you believing them
because you believed so much in me.
Jenna Richardson Sep 2012
I dreamt of tears
falling softer than the skin
on the underside of her
bended knee.
The knee she used to pray.
For salvation. For hope.

Toward me,
she looked for answers
to the riddles
plaguing her mind.
Turning thoughts
into open sores
incapable of scabbing over.

I simply watched, waited.
Wandered her chaos like a nomad searching
for a safe place to nest.
The help I yearned to give
lost somewhere behind my teeth
aching to spill out.

Pretentiousness passed
from mother to daughter.
An epidemic.
She never had a chance.
Born sick of the flat earth
she was laid upon.
Jenna Richardson Apr 2012
Enigmatic like a blank stare
on an unreadable face.
A lone tear from a left eye
watching you disappear with the right.
Not able to tell anymore
if the space looking
to be so desperately filled
is whats making you feel forsaken.

Go on. Fill yourself up
with what you're missing
and sit alone asking why
it will never be enough.
That's how you raised her.
Isn't it?

Leave them like there's something
pulling you along.
A flawed creature searching
for salvation in immortal
ideas and feelings.

The pretentiousness passing
from mother to daughter
like an epidemic.
She never had a chance.
Born sick of the flat earth
she was laid upon.

Doomed to forever leave
herself in blank pages of secrets
just to feel whole
even for a minute.
Jenna Richardson Apr 2012
If my face reflected the hell it has seen.
If my body resonated the abuse it has been through.
If my feet wore every pair of shoes I have walked a mile in.
If my mind screamed the insanity it has known to have crossed.
Jenna Richardson Apr 2012
Upon awaking I felt the tears already soaking my face
scrambling to remember what had gotten me to this point

He looked just the way he did
the day he left us
The kind smile and caring eyes I had grown so fond of
now smiling back at me yet again

He told me all the things I longed to hear from him
He was proud of who I had become and how you raised me
He gave me the aged advice I've needed to hear all these years
and explained to me what I did not understand
in that way only he could.

He gave me gumballs, but made sure they were in the exact colors I like
and we walked.
Just walked and talked and caught up.
Like I wish we could everyday.

I was so young when he left us
but I remembered him as if I saw him yesterday
down to the littlest details

They say our dreams are our innermost desires
last night I think my dreams were a passageway.
Jenna Richardson Mar 2012
She found the one who felt like home. Gave herself
fully to this last chance man, but a difference in distance
led her to a bed that, although strange, felt like home.

You counted her last; meanwhile, she counted you
as first and only. Knowing how easily
you would let her go, it would **** her
to walk away from this last chance love.
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