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rebecca suzanne Sep 2015
There's a first time for everything, but, baby, I want you to be the last.
I've been choking on different ways to explain this to you.
The right words are stuck to the roof of my mouth and I can never seem to fit them through my teeth.
You are so beautiful, too.
I miss you most.
I won't let you win at battleship-
and I probably won't ever understand football or hockey-
But I will watch it with you anyways.
I will hold your hand even when our hands are sweaty.
I will still make fun of you for smoking menthol cigarettes.
I promise to always eat the tomatoes for you when we go out to eat.
I will drive around with you until we are out of gas,
But I won't stop telling you to wear your seatbelt.
(even if the gas station is RIGHT THERE)
I can't risk it.
I can't risk you.
You've been present, even when I wasn't.
You've made me comfortable in your arms.
your home.
And even my own skin.
you're cigarettes don't always match your lighters anymore,
But you're the Cory to my Topanga.
And I'm the luckiest girl in the world, because you are my world.
I appreciate you,
I adore you,
I miss you,
And I, unconditionally, love you.
(I wrote about you in February when you're cigarettes matched your lighters and I never thought we would be what we are today. I love you, I love you, I love you.)
rebecca suzanne Jul 2015
Every summer brings
different adventures
but I still can't shake
the memory of
street light constellations
reflecting in your laugh,
or how warm we felt
in their artificial sunbeams
when we smuggled
your sister's beer in your car.

I still can't sleep some nights
 with that incessant glow
peeking through my blinds,
reminding me things
come and go
but you didn't
have to.
rebecca suzanne Jul 2015
I see you in the dust particles
waltzing in late afternoon sunbeams
I see you in endless train tracks
curving out of sight and into
uncharted territory inside your chest.
I'm sorry I didn't know how to loosen
my dead bolt grip, you were your own world
and I selfishly believed
I could grasp your full potential in my tiny fingers.
I assumed you were linear,
two dimensional;
one chapter rather than
an entire library of life.
I know you wanted me to speak up,
unhinge my jaw and let
the unwritten poems of my mind
seep into your ears.
I didn't think telephone wires stretched
across so many miles just for dead air.
I didn't think you were
listening so hard with your eyes.
I've been shaking my head,
trying to find a solution
rattling around in some stray cranial nerves.
Maybe that's why they call it shock
when it's not electricity at all.
We went from caves and brutality
to covered patios and toxic taser tongues
ready to etch high voltage vocabulary
into my bones until that's all I have left.
You wanted a better fight
but you shorted my circuit.
I let go all at once and I couldn't turn away
when you stumbled and crashed into a new reality.
I still have trouble laughing
around the lump in my throat
when people joke about trees falling in forests
because the way you said my name
still has me by the throat and some days
I think your grip is what kept my feet on solid ground
rebecca suzanne Jun 2015
If I could forget just one thing
I think I'd want it to be
how to get from my house to
and from there,
how to get from inside my car
to inside your room.
or which couch in the living room
you always stretched out on.
or where you would keep the
orange juice in your refrigerator.
or the names of your pets.

I know how to get to your house
from mine
like the back of my hand.
I don't even have to think about it.
like running my fingers through my hair,
it's become a part of me.

I feel it would be easier to forget you,
or at least let go of you,
if I didn't remember this so well
so long after I stopped feeling welcome
standing on your welcome mat.
rebecca suzanne May 2015
Chapped lips
and split
Skin renews
itself every
But it's like
my body knew
I couldn't wait.
Ive always been
December winds
have weathered
away my
shiny armor.
I am tired
of tasting my
own blood
in my smile.
I keep telling
myself to Hold On
until the Spring
but my
fingertips are
and I scream
until I Wake Up.
rebecca suzanne May 2015
I keep wiggling
My toes and
Focussing on
How the fabric
Of my socks
Feels against
My skin.
I get by with
Grand gestures
And some sort
Of wit.
Does not mean
The problem.
My socks don't match.
Neither do I.
I spilled paint
All over
My insides.
And it's made
A mess.
I keep thinking
It will be
To clean it up
I keep holding
People at
Arms length.
But I am
Trying to
Hold them
I can feel
My fingers
I Can Feel It.
rebecca suzanne May 2015
It is so cold outside
my toes burn
High on life?
Take a drag off of me
I'm trying to kiss you slowly
I meant ****
I meant both
My mouth is so sore
I'm throbbing
(Double entendre?)
Let me be your drugs
Let's take a bite out of these leaves
And inject cotton candy clouds
Into our bloodstream.
I feel so ghost
But ghosts can't eat Taco Bell
You feel so warm
But I've always dreamed about the East Coast
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