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This is a poem about a woman named sherry
All that she wanted was a good man to marry
She looked and looked and to her surprise
She fell in love with a woman with really green eyes
I met a boy the other day our eyes locked for mere seconds,
but I couldn’t understand the way that he could read me.
His wispy hair those big green eyes that smile that had captured me,
he uttered one small word and my knees had become weak.
My nervous smile and jumbled words I almost spilled my coffee,
Who knew that a Starbucks would be cupid’s place to strike me?

His simple word, “Hello” had stole my voice and my heartbeat
But thankfully I didn’t faint but sheepishly said, “you’re stunning”
His smile burst across his face and I knew had loved me,
Until then at least I’d pretend he would never leave me.

The next few months were enchanting all the nights we laughed together
It didn’t take very long until I was wrapped around his finger.
He told me that he loved and said, “We should get married”,
He stole my heart, who are you kidding? I said, “Of course I’ll be in your wedding”.

Laughing dancing crying fighting it was epic perfection.
The days spent lying next to you I caught a glimpse of heaven.
But all great things must always cease and soon, you would leave me,
But not from choice or even greed – no you would never cheat me.
Instead your time ran short and I was robbed from our future,

That last goodbye the day you died and someone pulled the trigger.
Months and months were full of cries screaming, anguish, rage.
Why did our future lives seem to be erased from the stage?
I’d thought I’d have more time, I thought you were here to stay.

You know that I’ll still love you but my heart just cannot bear,
Ever walking into Starbucks without your presence being there.
I feel like I’m not strong enough but soon I’ll be okay.
Because our love, you see, was the type that could last beyond the grave.
She watches **** at 3am, and has both ******* pierced
her nails are like white roses
and her palms like the thorn of every flower dead or alive

I feel like if I *** in her mouth she'll keep me inside her forever

I have to google "how to get hard" with every girl that's not her

she's a dead head, barley leaves her bed
keeps a rusted flask under her pillow
and a knife to rip her beat up wrist
there's nothing glorifying about her image

It isn't beautiful the way she pukes on the floor and can never find bandaids
and on sunny days she'll get this feeling in her stomach
that makes her run to the nearest drug store frantically pushing everything out of the counters, looking for scar cream

when she goes long enough without sleep she'll text everyone she knows an apology for something she did three years ago

and I will always love her, but I cannot marry pills and blood

and all the people know her as a crazy, crying *****
she was born with a different heart beat
as she was counting days left, the other little girls were counting sheep
I still haven’t figured out
the combination of those 26 letters
which can tell the story
about how much this little girl
loves being alive
and still wishes to die.
Thursday, March 6th 2014
I’ve been told I’m a beauty since I was born
You are my little princess; you are so perfect my love.
That is all people have to say to make me go to bed
Because that’s all what people see on me, my beauty and a *** pet.
But mamma’s not here and my daddy ran away
And I just need someone to **** my pain away.
You can be woman or men; I don’t really, really care
I just want you to kiss my neck and let me rest my head on your chest.
Tell me that you love me when you don’t even know my name
My pretty and my legs will love you the same.
So baby, please, make me feel pretty again
You don’t have to stay, but please, make me feel pretty again.
 Mar 2015 call me momma
sav
I want you to hold my hand.
Hold my hand so tight that my bones break and every crack whispers how much you really need me. The space between my fingers should forget what it's like to be empty because you'll fix each and every crease. Light a fire in my palms and melt away any other touch other than your own.
I desire you.
I am something worth destroying. Can't you see that I would rather be a pile of broken floorboards and shattered glass than an abandoned house, having never been touched by you? Burn your name across my body and tattoo it onto my heart so I understand what it means to love with a passion.
I want to thank you.
You've made minutes feel like decades by holding me until my internal clock shattered and the only perception I had of time was the beating of your heart. You turned words I was too afraid to speak into currency and now I am a millionaire with nothing to show for it except your smile. You filled my eyes with stars and heart with assurance so when pieces of me died I still had something left to believe in. You never gave up on me when everyone else did.
arms rip away at this skeletal heart without question:
a useless muscle that means nothing to me if i can't hold you.

open up your eyes, beloved.
just because i'm dead doesn’t mean
i can’t love you in this bed
during the night.

for today imagine that this is mutual.
that i am not a ghost and you are not
bound to sunsets with men that don’t
share my exact eye color.

let me lie to you. explain that i don't
******* to shadows ******* anymore,
cross my heart and hope to die.
(i hope you remember that
a heart can beat and still
long for grave-sites).

i know this isn’t a coffin
because i am burning
and you are always here at my side.

pull me up from this
necrophiliac-night-club
and we'll go on

as if you've never found those
maggots in my sock drawer.

i promise.
(c) ophelia annaliese 2k15

— The End —