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  Feb 2018 Maddison
Emily Miller
My father walked me down the aisle,
But my mother held my arm.
He went with me,
But we went not towards the altar,
But towards the door.

My father walked me down the aisle,
And the ***** rang through the church,
Humming through the elaborate crown molding,
Carved by my ancestors.

He went,
Not beside me,
But before me,
And I watched,
As he was illuminated by the bright,
Overbearing,
Texas sun.

My father walked me down the aisle,
But I did not wear white.
My father walked me in silence,
And I shed tears not for a man standing at the altar,
But for the one I would never see again.

My father walked me down the aisle,
And no veil obscured my face.
All eyes were upon me, but not for my pristine beauty,
Instead for my clenched jaw and furrowed brow,
Severe and fierce to distract from my glassy eyes.

My father did not leave me at the end of our walk to sit beside my mother.
She clung to me for support and sobbed breathlessly,
Loudly,
Unavoidably,
And I carried her with one hand,
My sister the other,
And walked towards my future.
A future family,
Not one person more,
But one person less.
I walked,
One final time,
With him.

My father walked me down the aisle,
And I will never forget it.
Hundreds of eyes isolating my family from the crowd,
Slow and muffled sounds drowning in the deafening beat of my heart,
Blurred faces staring,
Black heels clacking against the cobbled path from the church,
The anguished wails of my mother,
The whimpering of my sister,
And the wooden box that glided before us,
Pulling,
A string tied to our patriarch,
The pin key of our family,
Pulled taut and then snipped with the slam of the hearse doors.

My father walked me down the aisle,
Before I had a chance to grow up.
He walked me,
Out of the church,
Away from the altar,
Never to be walked again.
  Nov 2017 Maddison
Emily Elliott
i want to live
that's a lie
i want to die
it doesn't matter
the pain i feel
has become too real
the brightness in my life
has quickly gone away
the darkness
overcame me
the love in my life
slipped through my fingers
the sadness
took over
the light
  Nov 2017 Maddison
Lily Sales
for the first time in quite a longtime i am happy. not the kind of happy like fake laughs at terrible jokes or the happy that never has some sort of real meaning. right now. november 2017. i am happy. i can feel my heart race when something good happens to someone else. i smile at everyone that i see. i find joy in helping others and i'm not afraid of love. i am not afraid to care for someone or to tell someone how much they mean to me. my walls have come crashing down. but not so loudly to the point where all of the people that hurt me come running back to damage the new heart that i fixed. but to the point where they came down softly and not all at once and people that i thought were just passing by saw the good. happy side of me and decided that they want to stay there. stay in my life. not to trash it and throw everything that they don't like away. but to clean it up and make it sunny again.
  Nov 2017 Maddison
nobyelse
and then I asked you,
"What's your biggest fear?"

you gave me a quivering sigh,
looked at me straight in the eyes
and said,

"It's that eventually, you will see me
the way I see myself."
  Sep 2017 Maddison
mygreatestescape
The very
first time I remember
you - your
eyes were blue
and so so cold,
the next time they
are filled with warmth
and this fallacy of
love you carry around
like loose change,
after some time I
give up trying to decipher
the colours in your eyes,
because even if you don't
exist
--  I'm always
in love with you,
I remember with a familarity
those times we grow up together,
where you whisper your
sorrows and cry pain in my arms
under secret spots only we know of,
I loved you then when you
always went along with all my
bad ideas,
before you grew up and realized
that I was a bad idea,
and when we meet again
we are so much older,
and you are much more cautious -- I don't blame you.
Yet you
always forgive
me.
As if you're making up
for all those alternative
lives where
we don't exist
for each other,
and those
ones where
you hate me
and I barely know you,

I hate all those versions,
because I know if there
was another world
where you hated me so,
you would have killed
me by now.  

But in the end,
you always surrender,
and I hold you again,
wondering if I hate you,
(because I wish I hated
you)
and even though
I know we will meet again,
I always am afraid
if this is the last time,
because what if you're
already happy -- without me?

But I don't blame you;
because you are brilliant,
so it's only fair that
I have to chase
you through all those
lives where
you don't exist,
where you love strangers,
until I find one where
you come back
to me,
because I have
so many things
to say,
and
when you get
up to leave again,
I should say them,

but I won't.
Someone always ends up crying, and its always me -- why??
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