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I found you in the cracks of winter between puffing breaths of cold air like a dragon, on that cold Wednesday afternoon. I swore your eyes were the ocean, and I could see all the way to Europe. You held your books like a shield guarding your chest and you introduced yourself like a king.

We talked of Bukowski and Frost in between sips of lukewarm water. I fell in love with every pause you took and every time you blinked my heart beat increased. I was surprised you couldn't feel it from across the table.

You showed me the scars on your legs and arms you've gotten over the years. One from jumping off a roof into a pool. One randomly showing up when you woke up that morning. And one from that time you had a tumor removed from your chest. You told me don't feel sorry for you and don't feed you sympathy because you have been full for years.

We spent the next couple of months telling secrets. You told me I was the first person you have ever felt comfortable with in a long time. You kissed me so silently and slowly it was like breathing underwater. Forgive me if I sound selfish but I could not stay under the water any longer and I couldn't hold my breath for another second. I gave all my wishes and stars to you that night. I wrote poetry on your skin that we created when our hands touched.

We explored the mountains and ate picnics every Saturday afternoon. We ran from the rain as we saw the clouds roll in, we sat in the car and played truth or dare for an hour straight. I promised you I will love you until we're old and I'll have to feed you with a spoon until this action isn't anymore romantic but necessary instead.

It was a Tuesday at 2:35 in the morning when you were experiencing pain. I drove you to the hospital.

Our love was like a mother teaching a daughter how to slow dance for the first time; clumsy.
You didn't know how to hold me properly anymore because you were to busy holding medical bills in your hands. When I see these papers my mind loses focus and all those words form one big blur, and they become wet with warm teardrops smudging the news across the white crinkled paper. I turned off the tv that night and we actually looked at each other staring like we were both blank canvases and had painters block for the first time ever. That night you packed a suitcase and went away in a taxi. The hospital wasn't too far away but I couldn't bare to see you walk into that place again.

It was cold and it was Sunday. The doctors tried everything they could but it was already too big and eating you away. Old friends were always bitter when they weren't welcomed back but stormed in like a hurricane destroying everything the future has to hold. Your eyes were colorless and your hands were too fragile to hold anything. My heart was beating out of my chest and my palms were shaking. It felt like I was holding an earthquake.

You were only 21.

You had a warm heart and a beautiful brain. You were drained like rain-soaked up from the earth. I wished I could have taken you places and brought you flowers. But it was always too cold to go somewhere and all the flowers have disappeared away until next spring. For on now I'll just have to bring you back to life through words and hope not to cry. Another love is too far away to see and my vision is blurry but I don't want it to be clear. For I fear that I will once again become too selfish because I can't wait forever for you because death is miles away, and I'm not ready to see that side of my life. But when tomorrow starts without you I guess I'll just go home because, sweetheart, all the dust has disappeared.

Let us praise the time when we flew to Vegas one night because we were board. Praise the moment when we were so full of glee that time we won $20, and how we ignored that fact we lost $600. Praise the day our car broke down on the side of a mountain and so we finally got a chance to talk to each other and confess our problems. Praise that moment we meet on that frosty December. I hope your ghost waltzes at sunset with my shadow. I know it's only been a few years since we meet but for me, it was a lifetime of happiness.  Let it be known you are engraved into my brain and I'll always remember the time I saw you clutching books to your chest and puffing dragon breath.
just rambling
 Oct 2013 Sofia Paderes
Morgan
there was an ocean on the tip of his tongue
that slept calmly in the sun
so pretty and mysterious
your heart would fill
with an overwhelming desire
to bathe in it,
the moment your eyes
caught it in a
peaceful glance

but if you're one of the lucky ones
that came across it at night
you'd see it unfolding
into violent waves
of rage and love and
fear and agony and
excitement
and
if you were brave enough
to fall into it then,
i swear
with every inch of my soul,
*it would change your life
forever
 Oct 2013 Sofia Paderes
brooke
each perfume
reminds me of
a time passed.
truly, i just want
to live in the present.
(c) Brooke Otto

I'm tired of living in old scents and photographs.
 Oct 2013 Sofia Paderes
Morgan
sap
 Oct 2013 Sofia Paderes
Morgan
sap
i am in love with
the way you pull
the sleeves of your
sweatshirt over your
fingertips in the winter
& then of course the way
you rub my hands between
your's, while shakily laughing
through a bitter shiver

i am in love with
rubbing your back
on a rainy night
because your mind
is so filled with pretty
thoughts, you can't
silence it for sleep
i am in love with
the way your spine feels
beneath my palm

i am in love with you
and how you quietly
walk away
when you are mad
and how you scream
when you are anxious
and how you kiss harder
when you are sad

you are the warmth in my tears
*the only love i want to be in
 Oct 2013 Sofia Paderes
Morgan
i don't live in a city
i live in an apartment
(that happens to be inside of a city)
but
it's not loud
or bright
or busy
where i live
i keep the doors closed
i keep the blinds drawn

tonight,
i'm drinking cold coffee
wrapped in a thin blanket
the air is on high
as it always is
and my hands are shaking
as they always are
my phone is warm
i'm holding it close--
as an extended limb
that reaches out from
me to you
when the touch
is lost in the distance

silence gets stranger
by the hour and
i'm starting to feel
the sadness now
it's poured
out from my skull
and stained my skin
it's leaking into my clothes--
it's becoming all that i know

i said i would never call this Hell home,
because home was a place inside my mind
where i felt safe but it seems to have caught fire
in my sleep & burned to ashes with my dreams

how do i rebuild my life
when all i have are the bits and pieces
of a comfort that once sheltered me?
*what is the foundation for change made of?
 Oct 2013 Sofia Paderes
brooke
sometimes i bury my
stress and put on a
clean face, tell people
I'm relatively unfazed
by everything but I
splintered this morning
over eggs and toast

they say He never gives
you more than you can
handle but bits of me are
seeping out the cracks.
(c) Brooke Otto
 Oct 2013 Sofia Paderes
Jedd Ong
It's 3
Am and I'm
Still
Up writing
Your paper
Explaining why you
Can't seem to stick,
Your commas in the
Right
Places.

It's 3
In the
Morning and
I am staring
At Ollie's
Baseball glove
Green ink scrawled
With poems
Which he reads
When the third innings
Are dull When
***** become too trivial to
Catch.

It's 3
In the
Morning and I
Am sick and
Tired of watching
You make out
With
Every
Girl
You pick up
At this
Phoney
School.

It kills me.

You have no idea
How it
Kills me.
Holden, for all his flaws, had a good heart.
 Oct 2013 Sofia Paderes
Morgan
I don't want
to write about
fireworks,
and butterflies
and pretty
stars in
perfect
skys.
I want
to write about
the gaps
in your teeth
and the way
your voice
sounds when
you're angry
I want
to write about
the mess of
clothing
that you
don't even
wear,
all over
your bedroom
floor
I want
to write about
the tears
on your pillowcase
and the way
you so often
fail to make
sense
in the morning
I don't want
to write about
all of the perfect
things you do
I want
to write about
why I'm
in love with you
and
I want my words
to prove that
there's nothing
you do
that
I'm not
attracted to
...
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