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Portland Grace Jul 2011
We were 6 years old, we were innocent, we we're playing. Just playing, in the most innocent sense of the word. With dolls, or blocks, or trucks, or dirt. I don't remember. We we're playing and then we weren't. We were playing and then the darkness came, and it took away our blocks. It took away our safety net of protection and threw us down the slide of demons.
Your demons. His demons.
We were 7 years old, we were innocent, we we're singing. Just singing, in the most innocent sense of the word. Songs, or lullabys, or comercials, or imporved words. I don't remember. We we're singing, and then we weren't. The darkness struck again, and this time hit us hard with liquor filth and stench.
Your stink, his drink.
We were 8 years old,  we were still innocent, we were riding. Just riding, in the most innocent sense of the word. Bikes, or scooters, or rollerblades, or skateboards. I don't remember. We we're riding, and then we weren't. The darkness grabbed our wheels and lurched us onto the pavement 'till our skin ran red and he told us we were *****.
His fault, our blood.

We were 9 years old, we still had bits of innocense, we were running. Just running, but not so innocent. On feet, we ran. I remember. We ran towards the sunset, quickly, but not quick enough. The darkness caught up to us, panting. Struck through us with quivering blades, and took away every drop of innocense left.
His addiction, our innocense.

We were 10 years old, we no longer had any innocense, we got away. A big man in blue took the crying darkness away, and stored him in a box made of cement and metal. Darkness said he'd see us when we were 18, thinking we loved him. Loved him through his addiction, because deep down there was light? And we were good girls, weren't we? We could see the light in him, right?
No light, Only darkness.
Portland Grace Jul 2011
You know
  I love,
   Everything,
     About you.
       You know,
         That you're
           The only one
             For me.
               You know
                 I always
                   Think about you.
                     You know
                       You're the only
                         One I see.                                                                            I know
                                                                                                                    I can be
                                                                                                                 A little much,
                                                                                                               Hard to
                                                                                                            handle,
'                                                                                                         But easy to touch.
                                                                                                        I know
                                                                                                     Sometimes,
                                                                                                  I don't think
                                                                                               Things through,
                                                                                             All I know,
                                                                                           Is that,
                                                                                        I love you.
Portland Grace Jul 2011
This is
                                            hard.
I knew it was going
                                              to
be. But not like this.
                                               Let
myself relax? It'll all
                                               go
smoothly. I hope.
                                               Hard
to get you off my mind
long enough                           to

Be happy. I just want to
                                                 hold
you. You know your always
                                                     on
my mind. But is it good?
Portland Grace Jul 2011
What can I say, when I can't say anything? But there's so much I want to say.




Who can I go to, when I can't go to you? But you're the only one I want to go to.






What can I do, when I don't even know how to talk to you?
Portland Grace Jul 2011
The thing about                       love
              or
                        something close,            is             all            the          space       in      between.
When we're together, it's perfect. Everything is wonderful, the colors brighter, the sounds softer, the music sweeter.
             But when you leave.......... well what then?
Excitement for the next time, our eyes will meet?
Well         yes,        yes.


                     But....
There's always buts.
      But doubt,
Does he even miss me?
Is he            avoiding me?
Will this be just like last time?

I tell myself,          no.   Stop being foolish.
Childish.
Pathetic.




Or when I want to                         see     you,
and you don't want to                  see     me,

He doesn't like me anymore..
There's someone else...
He's bored of me..

I tell myself no, he's busy.
He has other stuff to do.
He's tired.....
of me?
                                       I don't even know.
Portland Grace Jun 2011
I know
            it's not
                       always
                                    going to
                                                  be easy.   I know
                                                                             we're both
                                                                                              going to have to
                                                                                                                          try.
I know
          it won't
                      always be
                                      perfect.
                                                  Because I'm not perfect,
                                                                                         and you're not
                                                                                                                  perfect.
                                                                                                                  But I know.
                                                                                         It's going to be
                                                  worth all that's put into it
                                    because
                  when I'm
      with you,
Everything
falls
perfectly
into
place.

In
your
arms,
there
are
no
questions,
no
worries,
no
hurt.

There is only you, and that's just perfect.
Portland Grace Jun 2011
Something beyond.
Something.
But where?
But what?
What more is there?
Secrets.
Why?
Hushed tones, always.
For what?
For Whom?
Nowhere.
And where's that, exactly?
Diminishing. Fading.
Falling.
Why?
Because, Sweetheart, that's the way life goes.
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