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Remember when you were just a kid
How you would sit on the beach for hours
Waiting for the Sun to finally set
Sleep on the beach
Because you were tired from the day
Remember how you would get chased
By the girls at your Elementary school
Hahah you had good times
Till you found out and could really understand
That the woman who lived in your house
Who always sent you off to school
Who kissed you good night
Who told you she loved you
Remember how you felt
How you grew so angry
Because the truth was that this woman
Wasn't your real biological mother
Your real one abandoned you
She left you at 13 months old
Left in the middle of the day
In *****, soiled diapers
She would pass out from the alcohol
Crash from the high
That the drugs gave her
Leaving you hungry for hours
Waking up when your father came home
Or her drug dealer wanted something in return
Just because she didn't have the money
Remember all of those things
Remember when you met her for the first time
She asked your stepmom
"Who is that? Is that Jr?"
Yeah it was you
Grown up and matured
Remember the thought that passed through your mind
How can she not know who the ******* are
Remember how angry you were
See I know all of this because
Well simply put I am you
I am 17 years of age
I want you to remember the way you were
Because with age comes wisdom
And I have been privelaged enough
To have a good sense of observation
I have become very wise
Well we have become very wise
See I miss those times
When we would ride our skateboard
Or try to blow things up with a firecracker
Hahaha remember those times
Look I don't know if you remember all of this
But if you ever get a chance to read this
Know that I hate us
I hate all of the darkness
I hate every poem I write
I hate everything I think about
Simply because the darkness is towards her
The poems are written for nobody but somebody
And the things I think about
Keep me up well into the late hours of the day
Robert
I hope you get a chance to read this
Because this poem may be the last
You may never get a chance to read this
Because I hate the fact that I have so much pain
So much of useless emotions
And I am tired of dying within words
Written on a piece of paper
I want to embrace death
So hopefully one day you will read this
Even if you come back in a different life
As somebody or somehing else
Just read at least one line of this
So the past doesn't repeat itself
I hope you can forgive me
                                               Sincerly,
                                                     Robert Guerrero
Don't touch me I will break

Don't see me I will disappear into the sky

I'm as weak as you only you are stronger

Dont do anything please

Nothing for me

Nothing at all

Just please leave

Because you are my  nightmare

The way you look

Your pale skin

Your devilish grin

Your demon eyes

I can't take sound of your voice

Your clothes

Your hair

Your ******* everything

Another look is just another memory

Its just another nightmare in my mind
 Nov 2013 Mortuus Odio
Cassandra
You
 Nov 2013 Mortuus Odio
Cassandra
You
I love you,
Three words I believe will always be a lie.
I love you,
Three words I can no longer utter.
I love you,
Three words I fear more then death.
I love you,
Three words I'm terrified to hear again.
I love you,
Three words I'm scared to ever feel for you.
I love you,
Three words you tell me to believe in.
I love you,
Three words you have so much hope in.
I love you,
Three words I'm hoping you show me the meaning to.
I love you,
Three words I'm hoping could be true with you.
I love you,
Three words I start to believe in again.
I love you,
Three words that when spoken by you could mean so much.
I love you,
Three simple little words that I'm hoping last when it comes to you.
Falling in love
Is a scary, scary thing
But what's scarier
Is falling in love with the pain

It starts to feel better
Little by little
And changes you
From strong to brittle
It beats, and rumbles, and breathes;
like the roar of an irrepressible beast
our lust and desires shake the earth below,
fracturing the dusted dirt of our hearts.
Cherished hopes become slow dancing trees
we burn to feel warmth
as we chase after an unsustainable beauty.

Then with an abrupt ebb,
our intrepid recklessness sobers,
So we turn to jesters and alleyway fools
to learn how to quit.
© Emily Rogan
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