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3.0k · Apr 2014
Secrets
Meagan O'Hara Apr 2014
Some secrets
Ought to be kept alone
Ready to wait
Ready to die
You made me this way

Not once did I flinch
Only did I fear that you

Might try again
Or maybe take things farther. Id
Rather not think about it for
Every time I do, I become                                           *S T R O N G E R
2.7k · Apr 2014
Empathy
Meagan O'Hara Apr 2014
Empathy is like a gray tulip
With its beauty preserved and dried
Careful, don't think
For the petals will fall
And the beauty will be lost
On the ground
2.6k · Apr 2014
Clouds
Meagan O'Hara Apr 2014
Smudges in the sky
Swirling across my fingers
Gateways to heaven
1.5k · Apr 2014
Canvas
Meagan O'Hara Apr 2014
An empty canvas
arose in her heart
as she picked up her brush
and began to paint

She mixed her greens with her dreams
and the blues with hope
and the reds with her anger
and the yellow with her fright

She gripped her tools
with white knuckles
and stared at the canvas
with her black pupils

She painted how she felt
green and blue
and yellow and red
until all she had was a ruined canvas.
1.1k · Apr 2014
Leaves
Meagan O'Hara Apr 2014
Attached by a thread
Clinging onto their mother
Last years leaves must leave
920 · Apr 2014
Dear Locker
Meagan O'Hara Apr 2014
I love that I immediately know that you are mine
with your belly swollen with my textbooks
and throwing up discarded papers.

I love the smell of the alcohol from rotting pears
that fills my nose
when that four month old container falls
onto the floor and explodes into a pungent flame.

I love not being able to get my worn out
book bag into your thin frame
and the music my moans and grunts create.

I love how you resemble a museum
full of old tests and gym shorts
and chip bags and chewn up pencils

I love how you block my view
of the people next to me and
how you always make me late.

         Please don't change
        For God knows I wont make you.
674 · Dec 2014
OFFICIAL APOLOGY AT 9
Meagan O'Hara Dec 2014
Thanks for nothing. These past few days really have shown some true colors.
I'm sorry I love you
I'm sorry I care
I'm sorry we ever got involved
I'm sorry for trying to help
I'm sorry for noticing those cuts on your arms a few years ago
I'm sorry for falling in love with you
I'm sorry I'm not good enough for you now
I'm sorry I'll never be good enough for you
So thanks for nothing. I've been wanting to cry my eyes out all day and praying for you to at least look at me in the street when you're coming at me with your car.  
I'm sorry I'm not skinny.
I'm sorry I'm not pretty.
I'm sorry I have an annoying laughter.
We went to the doctors and I was forced to look at the spot you first kissed me
I'm sorry I have a dry mouth
I'm sorry I'm awkward with my body
I'm sorry my hand doesn't perfectly clasp into yours
Yesterday I watched a documentary about drugs
I'm sorry I stopped you from living your life
I'm sorry I crush all your dreams
I'm sorry I let my own fears interfere with your life
I see you standing there when I'm waiting for no ******* reason and I just want to feel your body again intertwined with mine
I'm sorry I'm short
I'm sorry my hair is always tangled and has static
I'm sorry I'm at least a good eight inches shorter than you
(8 inches from heaven)
I brace myself for you when I'm at my own door.  I miss you coming up and saying hey with that stupid smirk that I've traced over and over in my head
I'm sorry I don't initiate things
I'm sorry I think your presence is a present
I'm sorry you shut the door
And I didn't knock
I saw the spot where I ran up to you two years ago and gave you a hug because I hadn't seen you in over a month.
I'm sorry for our past.
I'm sorry for not kissing you that moment.
I'm sorry for nearly knocking you over.
I see you when I'm doing math, mental or not
I'm sorry I didn't listen to you
I'm sorry I didn't care at time
I'm sorry that a ******* parabola makes me think of the never ending possibility that there could be someone else
You're making me realize that everything that we are is a mistake.
I see you in the bricks that are in the walls. They take me back to when we started talking on that wall about music
I'm sorry we like the same music
I'm sorry for not holding your hand
I'm sorry you have become such a solid thing in my life
I see you in ever ******* face I've been trying to draw but I can never perfect the lips because I can't remember how they felt up to mine
I'm sorry for not being good enough
I'm sorry for thinking love is real
I'm sorry for thinking we could work
I'm sorry for all those times I held your hand because now I realize that you were a drug and you're gone and that this is withdrawal.
I'm so ******* sorry.
It's a text
586 · Apr 2014
Rust
Meagan O'Hara Apr 2014
You were there when I had my first kiss
Supporting me on that unstable iron fence that
Had been worn away by your work
And your kisses

You gave him tetanus as he leaned
Away, and you filled my lungs with the scent
Of his blood and your breath telling me
You meant to do it

You were on his car as drove him to
The nearest hospital and appeared at the
Bottom of the bed
He sat on

You told me that nothing stays pure

You warned me that he'd change

And now I watch as my blood mingles with you
On my rusted bathtub plug
506 · Apr 2014
Bad Date; Bad Poetry
Meagan O'Hara Apr 2014
You gave me roses on our first date
and you gave me that award winning smile
but now those flowers are old and withered
and youve left me alone for quite awhile

so, thanks for nothing.
you never meant anything you said.
I dont even think you were here
please get out of my head
484 · Jun 2014
10 O'clock Thoughts
Meagan O'Hara Jun 2014
Every time we kissed
You drew lightning across my lips
Thunder claps of a connection
Never received any protection
Couldn't perfect the rain as it fell
As you gave me those nights of hell
You were a cold summer rain
That left me without shelter
Alone.
363 · Jun 2015
10:28 // 6 Months
Meagan O'Hara Jun 2015
I deleted your number, you know. I deleted it because I knew I would do something stupid like this. Send you a message and pray that you would come up to me the next day and hug me like you used to and kiss my cheek. Like maybe I'd be able to feel your hair on my forehead again and you'd give me that "really" look like you did when you really wanted to just smile and laugh.
I see you doing that now. You seem happy. I just wish I was apart of it.
The roles have flipped, sunshine. You were my grip on sanity for the longest time. It's kind of ironic though; I was with you and you were miserable. Now you're free and I'm miserable.
I wake up every morning with my first thought being of you. My last thought before I go to bed is of you. I am still hopelessly in love with you and you want nothing to do with me. It kills me every time I see you smile, but it heals when I realize you're finally happy. My heart is so full of scar tissue I don't even know if it can function correctly anymore.
I wish you had broken up with me in person. Maybe it wouldn't hurt as much. My second thought of the day is how you texted me saying you didn't love me. I still cry myself to sleep most nights knowing that you don't care that you still have my heart.
I see you in every smile.
I see you in everything alive.
I see you in vibrant colors and in the freedom of the sky.
I hear you in laughter and every ******* song I loved.
I feel you in the softness of blankets and old baggy sweatshirts.
You were my life guard. I held onto you when there was nothing left for me to hold. I went 6 months not seeing my dad after you told me you didn't love me. We moved in the spring, leaving the only place where I truly felt at home. My mom is finally happy again with --- and almost oblivious to the fact that I'm drowning in an ocean because everything I love is being ripped apart.
I'm still barely hanging on, 6 months later. You took me with you when you kicked me out of your life. It screams for me every second of the day but I know I can't get close to you. If I do I know I'll hurt you. That's why I'm mindlessly typing this in a message to you I can't send. I can't let you know how I feel because I'll shatter your glass bubble.
The only friend I still talk to of both of ours is ---. It's almost always of you.
I miss you. I still love you. And I'm sorry for feeling this way still about you.
I told you you'd leave me and you said you never would. Well, I guess I win that bet.
God I miss you.
I still love him
331 · Jun 2015
10:00
Meagan O'Hara Jun 2015
It's been 6 months
And I still love you.

Just thought you should know
You've been my priority all along.

— The End —