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 Dec 2015 Cecelia K
cass
my throat hurts and my nose is running, but hot soup and thoughts of you will always be my best medicine.
 Aug 2015 Cecelia K
ren
When I look at things I used to care about
(And I suppose I still do care about them,
In a way I could never be able to explain),
And feel nostalgia
For my old feelings;
For the way I felt about you,
I think of sitting unhappily
In the corner of the room,
Trying to read God's words
(But my tears blur them),
And I look up to see you there
You're still there
(You're always there),
And you sigh at me,
Not knowing how you feel
Because how could you possibly?
I make a face at you through my tears
Because I am brave
And I want to lose myself in making you happy
(Not only because I'm told it will make me happy)
But also because I genuinely and sincerely
Want you to be okay
Because I cannot imagine the way
You must be feeling
And all I do know is that
You are the sweetest thing,
Coming up to me and trying to make me feel okay
And we comfort one another
In an effort to feel okay.
Before I can ever truly feel upset
You're making me feel better
And I know that humiliation and self-hate
Have no power on me
When I feel the love God has for me
And for you.
 Aug 2015 Cecelia K
ren
I feel a blanket of warmth
Over both of us
And I feel all these people
Trying to make me feel better
Are nothing but instruments
In which God tries to express His love to me.
I think of all the things in my future
And all the things I have ahead of me
And I can't think of a place on Earth
That I'd rather be,
That I would rather have my children be
Because when my baby is fifteen years old
And crying on the ground,
I want your children
Around comforting her
And I want your child to be there
Making jokes about her
Trying to make her laugh
And I want there to be that girl
In her math class who stands up to the kids
Making fun of her
For not understanding the problem.
I want that girl to be just like you
When we are sitting a desk apart
Laughing at the lesson together
Though we're hardly friends outside the class.
You make me feel alright
Because you are God's love for me.
God's love is that boy
Who is as much my brother as my real brothers,
Is that girl who smiles at me in the hallway,
Is the friend that tells me I look nice
When I try to.
You are God's love when you make faces
At me through the window
That separates our classrooms.
You are God's love when
You hit my shoulder in a brotherly way
As your choir sings about
Having a shoulder to cry on.
And though it may seem impossible
I know that I am surrounded by all these people
Who are God's love
And I hope that I am too.
 Aug 2015 Cecelia K
ren
You were the first to see me so exposed.
It was innocent then -
Or maybe it was just foolish.
Either way it was raw and real;
The way love is supposed to be
And the way love is
Before we dig out our masks
And dance it in masquerades.

You used to look at me in the eye.
You used to clutch me
In the palms of your open hands.
I was naked
And yet I did not feel vulnerable;
I felt seen.

Now you paint over my eyes.
You paint beautiful things -
You always were an artist -
But with your paint you cover me.
You cover me so I cannot be seen.
You cover me with your colors
And now I do feel vulnerable.
This is probably the most symbolic and ironic thing I've ever written. I do so hope somebody understands.
 Aug 2015 Cecelia K
ren
You are the hell
That ***** me in
And spits me out.
You are the pain in my chest,
The piercing scream,
The fistful of doubt.
We are not the elements
That chemically combine.
You are not the one
Who sends shivers
Down my spine.
I'll never love you.
And I never did.
 Aug 2015 Cecelia K
ren
Fascination
 Aug 2015 Cecelia K
ren
Maybe it bores you
how I drone on about
my firm belief in
the oxford comma,
but I'll always care
about the propper maintenance of a tuba
because I know how you spend your days
in your grandpa's shop
repairing the broken instruments
but not your broken heart
 Aug 2015 Cecelia K
ren
Siderophobia
 Aug 2015 Cecelia K
ren
Maybe I loved the stars too much
And I fell in love with damaging 
My vital organs. 
My lungs for my loss of breath,
Choking back months of tears. 
My mind for distorting thoughts of you,
Thinking you were the stars themselves. 
My stomach for the inflammation of butterflies,
And subsequently their disease. 
And you know how you broke my heart.
 Aug 2015 Cecelia K
ren
Miriam
 Aug 2015 Cecelia K
ren
Her hips were poetry 
When she walked,
Leaving the room hushed
And breathless;
Gazing in awe

Her lips were poetry 
When she sang;
Clearer than the birds
And prettier than the stars
And bolder than the moon
And softer than the night 

Her eyes were poetry
When her brows crinkled
In delight
And her lids fluttered
In fatigue
And her irises sparkled
In passion

And the way she spoke
And the way she did
And the way she was,
It was all poetry to me.
For my best friend.

— The End —