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oh mother dearest
please say not another word
i'm not that little girl who was to your heart so nearest
stop being so ignorantly absurd
i try my hardest to make you approve
i really do
all you'll ever do is disapprove
even when to myself i stay true
oh mother
i know you detest my poetry
yet another
may not agree
i'm sorry for being a failure
and also for my irritating behavior
but you cannot choose my life
for this is not your own
your piercing words are like a knife
attacking until the cause of this loneliness becomes vaguely unknown

-l.c.g.
 Aug 2013 Kaylee Brooks
Bryce K
A lone woman crouches at her fiancé's grave.
She sheds a single tear and places a bouquet of red roses,
bound together by a lacey white ribbon.
She tucks a loose strand of her auburn hair behind her ear,
and stands to whisper "Goodbye" and then she departs.

They were together for just over 4 years.
And he never found the courage to propose.
They were madly in love, and envied by all.
You could not separate them, nor would you want to.
Something so pure should never be silenced.

They did everything together, from picking flowers,
to slowly dancing in front of the glowing fireplace.
However, it was the one time they weren't together,
that caused everything to go wrong.

He went out to go Christmas shopping for his one and only,
when the worst blizzard in the last 30 years arrived.
He never called or answered his phone.
He never came back home and was never found.

His damaged truck was the only thing of his to be found.
It broke through the road barriers and crashed into Lake Superior.
She wept and wept and was in constant denial,
and it only grew worse when they found an engagement ring
in the compartments of the dashboard in the truck.

Her parents called, along with his, to try and calm her,but it was to no avail.
That Christmas was by far the worst,and by far the loneliest.
She sobbed and wept harder than ever when she found out she was pregnant.
Now she would have to raise a child by herself that was a constant reminder of him.
Her parents offered to help with the child, but she refused. This was her burden to bear.

The child is now 6 and its been 6 years since his father died.
She takes him with on almost every visit to his fathers grave.
The only time she goes alone is on the anniversary of his death.
Since he was alone at the time, she will be too.
She stands in the snow and whispers "I miss you" then she says "Goodbye".
I am open to any suggestions on how to make this poem better. I feel it could use some work and lots of tweaking. I like it enough to keep it, but I'm 100% sure it needs something else. Maybe it was too cliché? Not sure. Again, I'm open to any suggestions.
soon i will f a d e
like a photograph
left upon the windowsill,
and you will wipe away
my name from your lips

my laughter will become
a faintly familiar echo
in the hollows of your memory,
and unlike your thriving soul,
i will be fixed in a state of affliction
by the absence of your tenderness

yes, the fire in your heart
that once burned brightly for me
is growing dimmer by the hour,
however, you shall remain with me
e v e r m o r e
Do you remember yesterday?
The day you loved me.

We wrote letters to tomorrow
and savoured every moment.
We floated in each others laughter
and you stole my misery from my lips.

Do you remember today?
The day you loved me.

We burnt the letters and wrote new ones for new people, and cringed waiting for the day to end.
The laughter was muffled by the sound of that ambulance they took you away in, and my misery planted itself in your lungs.

Do you think about tomorrow?
The day you love me.
Or, maybe the day you don't.
We'll stop writing letters, and we'll wash down yesterday with what the doctor ordered.
We'll listen to laughter that isn't ours and wonder why nothing is funny like it used to be.
My misery grew back like a **** in me, and you still haven't uprooted the **** thing out of your chest.

If only we could turn back the clock, and wind it differently.
Yesterday could have lasted.
Today might have been saved.
Tomorrow might not look so hopeless.

I don't know if your clock ever got fixed
But every day feels like tomorrow to me.
all of the words
you speak
today and tomorrow
are in vain

for you do not wish
to throw rocks at my window,
you know very well
i am already on my doorstep
waiting for you

you love me in songs played
on tuesday afternoons,
gaps in conversation where
three words are meant to fill it
and faded journal entries
dated when time was blind

you’ve written disguised goodbyes
beneath my eyes
and subliminally (explicitly)
whispered (shouted)
to move on, move on, move on
each moment i’ve tried to draw you nearer,
you do your best to push me further away

but even from a distance,
you are still holding on

let me go
let me go
let me go

so i may finally
let go
of
you

— The End —