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 Sep 2012 Jose Martinez
Tru Baker
In the spring, we fall in love; you and me. Together, we stay up all night. We dream of the future, and dissect the past. We wonder how we got here. We decide that we don't care; you and me. Together, that's how it should be. We spend hours lying in your bed, learning the curves and lines of each other's body. We go on dates that we don't call dates, because to put a label on what we are would only stifle things. We're not really sure what this is anyways, but we like it; you and me. Together, we think we are unstoppable. You are not normal, but that's okay, because neither am I. Our instabilities and insecurities balance each other. We are like yin and yang; you and me. Together, we are whole.

In the summer, you and I grow weary. Apart, we drift away. We slash at each other with words and fists. We fight and make up, and fight and don't make up. You and I are breaking. Apart, we start to shatter. The heat drives you mad, and you take it out on me. I get restless in the warmth, and begin to fly away. You and I are still together, but the cracks are beginning to show. Further and further apart we go. We stretch until one of us simply has to snap. You break first, diving head deep into your insanities, and breaking me in the process. You and I have gotten completely out of hand. Apart, perhaps we can heal?

In the fall, I attempt to heal myself. I do not hear from you, I do not wish to. I spend time putting myself back together again. I am a puzzle, and even I, am unsure of what the final picture will be. I try to pick myself up from the mess that you have made of me. I still have heard nothing from you, and I am still grateful for that fact. You have wounded me deeply, perhaps deeper than anyone knew. You have made your scars on both my heart and soul. I spend time doing things for myself, so that I can remember who I am. There is still silence from you; I do not miss you. I have begun to learn to live again. I even begin to flirt with the idea of love again. I believe that I have finally found myself again. I hear from you at last, a simple message; I am glad, because I have missed you as a friend.

In the winter, we come together again. We set boundaries, and know that we can still be friends. We start to talk again, little things, at first. But soon, we are telling all our secrets again. We are closer than normal friends, but then again, when have we ever been normal? We have no demands of each other this time around. The only thing we ask is a pair of ears to speak to. And together, we oblige. We spend time in public places, never alone, where we can't get into trouble. It is nice for us to share with each other again. We are more than we could have ever dreamed of being. But we still are not lovers, nor are we in love; this is a good thing. As winter begins to thaw, we grow closer and closer. And finally on the cusp of spring, we kiss, and the cycle begins anew.
Dear Pickle,

You are making my face sour. Mom is mad at you for skipping school and I have to talk her down again.

Maybe next time you can write me a 1200 word essay on "How stupid your decisions are", So I can mark it up with red pen before you lose grades on your ribs.

Sister, you need to calm your *** down, because the world isn't a race and the underdog doesn't always come in first, or even second.
But take a second to stop breathing that smoke you call air, everybody is choking on the smell of teen-spirit.
The tattoos not yet ingaved in your skin will serve as a reminder of how you took last place in a family full of sharp broken pieces of glass.
I tell Mom "Don't worry, it's just a phase, she just needs a second to find her place, in this world" But, at this rate, I'm not sure you will.

Because, people will knock on your door and hand you bottles of quick fixes and Novocaine, and I hope that this poem isn't in vain to serve as a reminder of that little girl that still caught fireflies in her teeth.

And I am sorry I left for 3 years without watching your molecules multiply, but I wrote my times tables on the back of my diploma for you to study.

That 6 year old girl with woodland creature cheeks hasn't been forgotten.
That 6 year old girl who never failed to puke in the car after a glass of milk hasn't been forgotten.
That 6 year old girl that cried every time we told anyone you are cat food under the kitchen table hasn't been forgotten.

I am sorry, can you bring her back now?

And for me, could you stop making Mom cry, she has watered so many Forget-me-nots that I am afraid her roots are drowning.

Don't get me wrong. I appreciate all the time you bared swords and shields to defend me against the stereotypes that threatened to staple them themselves to the inside of our cheeks, but come on...get your **** together.

We are blood-brothers...with vaginas.
Don't you dare break that bond because if you do I will lock you in the closet, turn the lights of and leave you in there screaming and crying until the rebellion leaves your bladder.

I'm your sister, not your mother. I will not birth any more brother *****-ups for you to father.

Love,
Vinegar.
Written (2012)

Author: I wrote this for my younger sister who is only 3 years younger than me, the youngest one in our family. It started when I used to call her "Pickle".
 Sep 2012 Jose Martinez
TD Rucker
Her body was bound to a bed,
Lying naked and a shell of her former self
Arising from my lower self
I only want to help
Send her to a heavenly life
With silence, a knife.
A hole in her side
for me to put my piece inside
Arousal from her applause
A sick and twisted mind of laws
her screams of agony and pain
Until in her mind, only I remain
Her ankles were bound with rope
And a crimson river flows from a wound I created.
I created.
I am artist
Regardless of society
This is incomplete because I'm doing it from my phone. The idea struck me after watching a movie called "A Darker Reality " when I get to a computer I'll finish it if I can put my mind back in this sick place.
Lust,
A Broken Promise Of Trust,
Love,
Something You Need To Handle With Gloves,
Tears,
Something That Comes From Every Hateful Word You Hear,
Evil,
The Same Four Letters Of A Name You Gave Your Everything To,
Pain,
When He Treated Me So Inhumane,
Today,
I Really Though I Was Finally Okay,
Yesterday,
I Was Okay,
Tomorrow,
All I See Is Sorrow,
Lies,
Something That Broke All The Last Ties,
Why,
Something I Yelled At The Sky,
Life,
I Stare At A Knife,
Tonight,
Come To Me Light,
No,
I Have To Far To Go,
Smile,
It Will Be Worthwhile,
Okay,
It Will All Be Okay,
See,
Just Believe,
Learn,
From The Burn,
And,
The Pain Will Be Banned

8/29/12
My head knocks against the stars.
My feet are on the hilltops.
My finger-tips are in the valleys and shores of
     universal life.
Down in the sounding foam of primal things I
     reach my hands and play with pebbles of
     destiny.
I have been to hell and back many times.
I know all about heaven, for I have talked with God.
I dabble in the blood and guts of the terrible.
I know the passionate seizure of beauty
And the marvelous rebellion of man at all signs
     reading "Keep Off."

My name is Truth and I am the most elusive captive
     in the universe.
 Aug 2012 Jose Martinez
Andy Cave
Your smile takes my breath away
your eyes they glisten like the suns rays.
You are so beautiful, so perfect it's true
and now I slowly am falling for you.
I can't hide these things I feel,
no I cannot keep my heart conceiled,
it beats so fast when you come near
my haze is lifted and I see clear.
I now feel happy without sorrow,
and now look forward towards tomorrow.

— The End —