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  Dec 2022 Julia
Megan Grace
as much as i don't have my ****
together (as much as i forget to
do my dishes or take out the
trash or breathe regularly) i
would have figured myself
out for you,   would have
taught myself to be tidy
and small, would have
studied   the    art    of
going  a   f u l l   day
without  having  a
panic       attack,
would   h a v e
read   up   on
how  to  get
myself  out
of bed and
i n t o  the
s h o w e r
every  day.
i     haven't
watered my
plants   since
the  first  week
o  f      j  u  n  e.
Julia Dec 2022
The cold envelops my body
as I lay in my bed.

I shiver,
silently missing you
wishing you were here with me.

another dreamless night.
Julia Feb 2022
when i look at you
i see our future
in your eyes.
Julia Jan 2015
And something's changed,
but we're still the same,
you and me,
our hands fit just so
and I can feel your heart race
against my tired body.

It's been a few days now,
but I still feel your warmth  
and taste your tears on my lips
from our evening in the car,
when for once,
I was holding you.

That night, the tables turned,
hell, the tables never cease;
but we're just the same,
we're still the same,

and our hands still lock together.
I loved you yesterday.
I love you today.
I will love you tomorrow.
Julia Nov 2014
I confronted the space between us;
I looked her right in the eyes.

Perplexed, I questioned her existence,
but she gave me a sly smile.

"If it's answers that you're after,
my dear, don't waste your breath.

Only time will sort and simmer
the mess inside your head."

She turned and scurried off
before I could object;

But love, she got me thinking,
about the heart that I protect.

The walls built high around my heart,
the soldiers and their swords.

From whom am I so guarded?
Who do I fear the most?

My love who holds the power alone,
holds me close tonight.
Julia Jul 2014
This time, her apology came in the form
of a caramel macchiatto
on a Tuesday morning.
No words:
just scalding coffee and gritted teeth
received by timid fingers
and pursed lips.

And it was enough for me,
until I realized that
all the sugar packets in the state
couldn't sweeten her words
or soothe my burnt tongue.
Bring on the melodramatic poetry. :3
Julia Jul 2014
This poem
I think to myself
as my shaking hand takes to the page,
Will be about the day my father left,
my first day of college,
or even the way my hands shake when I write.*
I write six words,
scratch out seven more,
and continue until I notice
i'm left with
a sloppy "i

even when my poems aren't about you, they're about you.
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