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 Apr 2013 Skye Applebome
Dev A
I finally said good-bye
I told him last night
And i know that he was upset.
I told him to call me sometime,
But somehow I know he won't;
It’s just the way he is.

This morning I told my friend,
She said she was proud!
How could she be so happy?
That I said good-bye to him,
When I feel like dying on the inside?

I almost gave up last night
As I explained what was wrong
I almost gave in to his begging and pleading
But I just can't do it anymore
I had to say good-bye.

She asked if I was okay.
How can I be okay if I told him good-bye?
How can I be okay if I gave him an ultimatum that I knew he wouldn’t stick to?
I’m not okay
But I have to pretend that I am
Just to get by these last few weeks in this country.

2 days of school,
2 weeks of exams,
3 weeks before leaving this country forever
Not to come back
Leaving him forever unsure when I’ll see him again.
Why am I losing these last few weeks with him?
Why did I say good-bye now?

I didn't truly want to say farewell
But she made me.
She hates him
Even though she's never met him.

I finally said good-bye to him
And said she was proud of me
And asked if I was okay.
But how can she be proud?
How can I be okay?
When he's still on my mind?!?
 Apr 2013 Skye Applebome
DG
every night when I am on my computer
why am I driven to tears?

it's not because I am lonely
it's not because I keep failing
it's not because I'm a fool

I cry because I cannot stand to see you suffer
I cry because you are hurt
this applies to a lot of people I know
 Apr 2013 Skye Applebome
E B
Upon the taking of my last breath,
I ask that no tears be shed.
Instead, I request that there be laughter,
Laughter to fill rooms and shake shoulders.
I want there to be joy upon my departure,
Joy that may follow me wherever I go.

Do not tell them the truth.
Tell them I died valiantly,
Protecting the helpless and
Playing savior for the weak

Tell them I was fearless,
Completely unafraid and unfazed
By anything that was ever placed
Obstructively in my path.

Tell them that I danced in the rain
And that I never got sick, ever in my life,
That I wrote beautiful things and
Spoke wonderful words.
Do not tell them the truth.

Or better yet, please do.

Tell them I was broken and frightened,
Pretending to be strong always.
Tell them I was a dreamer and I never woke up.

Tell them of the music I loved.
Speak of the people I greatly adored.
Tell them I was twisted, psychotic, confused
And beautifully, boastfully, blissfully so.
Tell them how I laughed as often as possible.
Explain how I never cried in the presence of others.

Tell them how I cared for others and how
I never did understand human nature.
Tell them you could never know me
Without knowing my deepest secrets.
Tell them how few people really knew me.

Tell them they are beautiful and loved
Because that’s what I would say, if I could.
Tell them goodbye and wipe their tears.

Tell the truth of my gloriously insignificant life
But only to the ones who loved me most.
 Apr 2013 Skye Applebome
E B
He wakes in the night,
Screaming and thrashing
Fighting invisible monsters
That intrude the air.

And then, of a sudden,
Moved by a terror unknown
He begins to cry, shrill and broken.

For lost time and
Innocence and
For sleep, he cries.

He closes his eyes once again
And rests his head, only to reawaken
And fight the monsters that have returned.

Sadly this cannot be remedied.
He will live his entire life afraid
And it hurts me to see him so.
I ripped the pearls off my neck.
The string was as fragile as love.
White spheres, dozens,
roll under the couch
like my baggage--
all the stuff you wouldn't,
couldn't,
didn't,
help me carry.
How do you think I got so strong?
Wearing heavy pearls around my neck?
Bearing heavy curls around my wreck
around my sides
inside my insides?
How do you think I got so strong?
Making mistakes and being wrong.
i cant read
so i just write
i quickly become tired
with your work
i would much rather pace
wear down the blades of grass
in the familiar place

i cant read
because while the graces of poets
philosophers
and scholars
make pretty the page
syllables dancing
atop meticulously pressed parchment
while this happens
through their beauty
i only think of you

toss the tome aside
and imagine all the ways
i can express
the things that capture and drag
the fingertips to their home
back to the place where i feel full
loved and laughed at
where i carouse and cherish

this was never about the "reads"
never about the ratio
of lit to likes
it was only ever about me writing
you love letters every day
ten max though

fact is, half of these *******
scrawlings these
are returned to sender
but crying alone
is far better than pretending
pretending you were never upset
and begging for something you need
begging doesnt only work if there is a listener

i cant read
i cant read our future
i cant give you house keys
a front or back yard
a cat box
a leash

i cant read
i write.
all 106 of them
garbage some think
but its garbage
i sealed with tears
and stamped with a kiss
spritzed with cologne
(if i wore it)

i cant read
star charts
memos
concert bills
calendars
no parking signs
or the expressions of cats

but i can write
pour out every guttural spasm
scribble every inspiration
leer and laugh toward
a glowing screen
mute and accepting
of the drivel banged out below it

i cant read
i can write things though
some things
good things
things

see what i mean??
i cant even write.
"things
good
things"
hay-seuss x-mas!
looking to hire a writing coach....
999-888-9988 extension 666
"i like it"
so i guess i win
I no longer believe in what I once knew
I no longer care
My eyes are open to the lies and the truth
while I am asleep I am aware
I fall asleep so easily
it's so easy to fall
So now I give it all away
from the beginning until the purist fate
There is nothing left to share
nothing at all

I would never sever a family tree
who would do such a terrible thing
I would never poison the food we eat
yet they took no shame in killing me
They burned my life and future down
now I stand over the devastation
As the dial of life keeps spinning
the world keeps turning
round and round

I no longer believe in what I once knew
this life is lost
I no longer seek the ugly truth
stop the world and push me off
© JDMaraccini 2013
the love of a best friend
is one that cannot be
smothered
but when i watch you and her
i don't see best friends
i see one girl desperate to escape
a sick, twisted, dying relationship
and i see you
starving, crying out in the darkness
wanting to be the girl she longs for
while she's too busy chasing boys
to notice your sacrifices
you look in the mirror and you see wrong
you see lost
you see empty
where she sees nothing
when she asks why there's no one
to hold her close in the night
you look at me and i can see it in your eyes
i'm here, love. i'm here.
but just because i see it
and just because she sees it
doesn't mean she wants it
doesn't mean she needs it
so please, for me, for her, for them
wake up in the morning
eat the food in front of you
smile at your reflection
just because she doesn't appreciate you
doesn't mean no one else does

when i look at you and her
i don't see best friends
i see a love that's been
smothered
by codependence and
a lack of oxygen

i see loved
and i see
lost.
sometimes it's easier to write about other people than myself
sigh
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