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My words have
become muddled.
Nothing sounds like
poetry anymore
and that scares me.
I don’t hear like
I used to,
but
my sight
is
impeccable.

I’ve seen more
shades of green
than I even knew
could exist.
The sky doesn’t
set like it used to.
I used to see only yellow.
Now I see orange
And gold
And red
And love
And hope
And peace
And strength
And passion.

I should have written
about that
sunset
because it was beautiful.
And no memory I have
now
can even begin
to aptly describe it.

I haven’t written
in 83 days.
That time accounts
for two birthdays
twelve days of
camp counseling
one death
five pillows
one relationship
six bottles of Mike’s Hard
one sun tan
thirty-seven dates
and
one-thousand nine-hundred and ninety two hours
worth of
poems I
I was too lazy to write.
How dare I?


My words
aren’t so easily spoken
anymore.
My mind is reeling
for the correct
letter
to type.
I’m back to
poetry
and I
never should
have left
Did I forgive you too easily?
I tried to be angry.
But you have this effect on me.
I know it sounds silly.
As I sit here; smiling.
You said you were looking at me.
I wonder now what it is you were seeing?
I tell you all the time.
Won't you do the same?
Point out the little things.
There has to be so many.
I'm afraid one day I won't be the same and you won't want me.
That my body will have changed.
I want you to tell me I'm pretty.
I don't believe it's ever been said.
You've touched me. Made me feel you wanted me. Begging. But you've never really told me. I think you're amazing. But it's always me. I've got a goofy look on my face and I'm biting down on my index finger. Wishing you would say something. Instead. You kiss me, too hard this time. Are you trying to tell me something? Just say it. Please. Just say it.
 Jun 2014 Nicholle Justine
Haruka
"There is no poetic beauty in pain."
I am learning this slowly.
My hands still shake when it's past 2 in the morning
and breathing isn't easy most nights.
I am not poignant with my words
and some days it's hard to get out of bed.

This is my adolescence:
A tangled mess of dismantled almosts
and empty promises scribbled messily on the back of restaurant napkins.
It's stolen kisses in sleepy coffee shops,
failing chemistry,
driving recklessly,
and staying up late on lonely nights to watch the sunrise.

There are days where I'm convinced life shines
with a brilliance unknown to me,
so I continue on and live for those days.
Those days where breathing comes a little easier and I remind myself
that everything happens for a reason.
I hope you find these days where all you know is basked in a vibrance you've only read about.

Live for those days.
Live for me.
5am
I hate dreaming about you,
when I wake up my whole body aches
from being tricked into thinking
I was really touching you,
that you were really there
and you really did want me.
I don’t like waking up whenever
I dream about you because
when I turn over to the
other side of my bed
to that empty space
I’m just reminded that
you still aren't here with me
and I’m still lost without you.
We nailed the hands long ago,
Wove the thorns, took up the scourge and shouted
For excitement's sake, we stood at the dusty edge
Of the pebbled path and watched the extreme of pain.

But one or two prayed, one or two
Were silent, shocked, stood back
And remembered remnants of words, a new vision,
The cross is up with its crying victim, the clouds
Cover the sun, we learn a new way to lose
What we did not know we had
Until this bleak and sacrificial day,
Until we turned from our bad
Past and knelt and cried out our dismay,
The dice still clicking, the voices dying away.
I’ll miss the polka music echoing through your home.

your little chair, whittled down and faded through the daily routine.

Prayer cards scattered about your pills and telephone.

You’d roll your eyes at Grandpa’s jokes.

You always wore pink shirts with flower designs.

I’d catch you smiling at me in unexpected moments.

Everything I wore was pretty in your eyes.

You’d tell me to bundle up and call you often.

You never failed to be silly with me.

I went to your house Grandma, and your chair was there,

everything in place but it felt so wrong.

My beautiful guardian and Grandma, I’ll love you forever in all walks of my life.

Stay by my side, I’ll see you soon.

-Your Granddaughter
 Jun 2014 Nicholle Justine
Paige
I have always
been able to get along
with people that
others can't.
The outcasts,
the freaks,
the losers,
the *******.
I have always been
able to see what
ordinary people don't.
Who they really are.
Everybody is a good person.
Some just have a hard
time expressing it.
Actually,
I fall in love with
those who are different.
And I love them for
the rest of my life.
Maybe it's because
I have always been
the weird one.
So I know what it
looks like inside
the soul of a person
that nobody understands.
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