Wearing mittens
boots all laced up
scarf around my neck
it's so cold
I can see my breath
hell
it's so cold
Jack Frost isn't nipping at my nose
  he's already chewing it

Winter in Maine
well you'd think it'd be grand
there is so much ice here
that there is nowhere to stand
the birds have flown south
in Florida they land

People cover their lips with Chapstick
there is so much snow in Brunswick
seriously whats the deal with it?

I may get ******* hypothermia
walking to my bus stop

Thank heavens I wore my wool socks

© 2013 Emily Larrabee. Legally Copyrighted, all rights reserved

You're loved I hope you know
through thick in thin we share one soul
you're my best friend my sister
my blondey my ***** a smile on a sad day
my light when its dark outside
a laugh and a giggle a hug
a dumb nut a **** munch
my dad hates you
yes he does
he hates most people though
okay so bye
love you

Shasha: If you like then u should’ve put a ring on it.

Emily: A.) not the right song b.) not singing time yet C.) What’s your name?

Shasha:BUT I  WANT TO SING !!! And I’m Natasha

Emily: Sorry about that folks I’m Emily. We are the Purple People Peepers

Shasha: Purple is the color peeping is the uhm.... Dollar??

Emily: Well who here knows about the smurfs?

Shasha: Smurfs??

Emily: Yup.

Audience hoots and hollers

Emily:Well sometimes if I embarrass Natasha enough she looks like a smurf.

ShaSha: You weren’t supposed to tell people.

Emily: Sorry.

ShaSha: Emily shush its my turn.

Emily: Well alright.

Shasha: We’re gonna be singing!

Emily: Yeah... What song?

Shasha: We Wish You A Merry Christmas!

Emily: (Gives Shasha a sarcastic look) And A Happy New Year?

Shasha: What song is that?

Emily: (Gives Shasha a confused look) Or, we can sing the song we planned on singing.

Shasha: (Smiling) Okay! (Turns and looks at Emily, very confused) What song is that?

Emily: I Want You Back by
Shasha: Cher Llyod!

Emily: No, The Jackson 5.

Shasha: The band?

Emily: (Gives her another sarcastic look) Yes, Natasha, the band. The group, Sweetie, The Jackson 5 is a group.

Shasha: I know, when are we gonna start singing?

Emily: Right now.

Shasha: Great! Who’s singing first?

Emily: I don’t know!!! How about Hermes??Maybe Jesus??

Shasha: \What does that have to do with the song?

Emily: Really? I hadn’t thought about that *sarcasticalIy
’
Shasha: Because you’re not smart like me. (smiles and points at herself proudly)

Emily: Yeah.....thats why.....

Shasha: Tehe

Emily is always right
when shes right she is right
when she is wrong she is right
is it hard to understand???
do not correct me
do not tell me im wrong
just pretend im right.
seriously this isnt a joke
i hate being corrected
it makes me feel dumb
i will find out eventually
just leave it alone
i know i make mistakes
everybody does
its the thought that counts
to me.
So if i get puncuation wrong
or spell a word wrong
just seriously tell me im right
i don't  care if im wrong
i know how to fix my mistakes
i dont need your help
Please
Oh Please
don't fix my mistakes

Hi my name is Emily
I am fifteen
nothing special
my mom left
I was 4
I only see my sister
once a year
my family and friends
deserve so much more
I'm just a burden on
everything
everybody
I hate myself
the bullies made me hurt myself
I cant hate myself forever
I might as well not
be
here

I promised
I swore
I would not
try it again
but I've tried seven times since
shush don't tell
but I need to try again
promise you'll
forgive me?

today its my time to say good bye
I feel guilty
don't forget me
promise you won't miss me
I promise you
I'll see you soon
I love you
I truly do
You'll forget me soon
but if you start to miss me remember
I'm always there
I'll see you soon

I don't believe in soul mates but
I will fall for the man
who can read my poetry aloud
translate it properly, from page to voice
without compromising rhythm, or sound, or rhyme,
With a gentle poet's brogue.
The man who sees the notes of my soul
I tucked between the lines,
and finds he made the same notations
in the margins of his own.

When a star burns black,
But no one is around to hear it,
it screams the last, lingering, piercing note,
of a symphony
written for a dying wish,
and a lost dream.

Finally imploding into silence
where even the brightest of lights,
is lost in hollow darkness.