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This is about the girl who fell in love with the moon.
Resting against the cold glass window at night
To get a glimpse of the light on the side she laid eyes on
And wondered about the darkness she would never get to see.
This is about the girl who fell in love with the stars.
Watching them sparkle and shoot across the sky.
She shed a tear knowing these stars were long diminished
And wondered if she as well would leave such a lasting mark.
This is about the girl who fell in love with the rain.
Falling fast asleep to the quiet drops on the pavement
With colors forming through the heavy mist,
And wondered if she could ever be as beautiful as a rainbow.
This is about the girl who fell in love with the ocean.
Sinking her toes in the sand while breathing the salty air,
Noticing the fish swimming easily through the blue water
And wondered if she could glide through life the same way.
This is about the girl who fell in love with the sun.
Lying in the swaying grass, feeling a soft breeze on her cheeks
Only to be shaded by the birds flying free under the light
And she wondered if she could one day be as free.
This is about the girl who fell in love with solitude.
Curled up with the dusty pages of her favorite book
Reading of the lover’s who share their lives together,
And wondered if one day she might share her solitude.
This is about the girl who fell in love with you.
With the way your body wrapped around hers,
How you could command a room with the warmth of your smile
And she wondered if one day she could call you hers.
This is about the girl who fell in love with too many things.
Realizing none of them would ever be hers,
Knowing she had no one to share them with.
And she wondered if she would always feel so alone.
 Sep 2013 Sommer Parks-Scott
Lee
I remember you so well.
The way I felt that,
I alone owned
and knew you.
Your pale fragile body
wrapped over and over in my memories and emotions.
I remember the way I could find arches and curves
when my eyes went fuzzy and my fingers traced your bodies.
There are so many of you.
I want to set you all free
filled with my denied expectations
and foolishness.
My highest aspirations
and deepest regrets.
I'll bury you deep in some hole,
cold and crumpling
as I pile the dirt on your stained body
or watch you writhe and float about in some steel barrel
as I cascade down lighter fluid
and say my final goodbyes
to your gathering ashes.
I'll be rid of you
I don't want you to commemorate my mistakes anymore.
I'll burn you alive
my memories turning to ash on your frail and blistering body.
You will be gone forever;
you ****** notebooks of high school poetry.
 Sep 2013 Sommer Parks-Scott
Lee
I
 Sep 2013 Sommer Parks-Scott
Lee
I
In
indecsicive
instances
I
instantly
interprept
irregular
inflama­tions as
illmatic
interpretations of
irregular
isolations
irresistable to
introverted
infadels.
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