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Arisa Apr 4
"i can't do anything right"
she says to me

"You can do plenty."
I say to her.

"not really"
she says to me

"Well, you can be here with me."
I say to her.

"anyone can do that"
she says to me

"No. Only you."
I say to her.
A conversation.
Bohemian Mar 21
I could hate my acquaintance
And love the unacquainted
Isn't this idea too tainted ?
Riley June Dec 2018
This is for both a bully and friend. They were like a tattoo I never wanted. Ink swirled under my skin screaming at me in victory. I woke up one day discovering this design dwelled in me making itself at home. How did this happen? How come no other kids had ink under their skin? That’s when they became a bully. When I got older the ink got meaner. Everything I did wrong they used against me like an arsenal of regret.  Elementary school became a battlefield and I always wore my armor. Children choose their sides not understanding the consequences each battle held.
Every morning they were there with more loyalty than a service dog. Every mirror was marked by them. Every student knew their name. And every day we would fight. Most days the fights were small and no one but us would get injured but some days there were casualties far greater than expected. This was not just a year or two of them being a bully but almost a decade of them being one. A routine developed where they would show up in the morning remind me they were never leaving and then wait for me after school. If I missed the bus they were sure to be there with me through that but not for support but as an opportunity to berate me.
They had a commitment to me that most marriages would be jealous of. No matter what they stayed by my side. And then I moved away traveling across many states confident I left them behind in the move. When school started I was nervous because I was new, and no one knew me. That lasted all of six seconds before I saw them again in the hallway. How the hell did they manage to cross six state lines to follow me and could I just disappear. The answer was no so we met again but this time it was as if they couldn’t remember me so this time around we were acquaintances.
As an acquaintance they were like a tattoo that you got done when you were sixteen, not quite what you wanted but it was better. This time the ink didn’t scream at me but talked. Their loyalty and commitment were both still their but instead of battles they became friends with others. It was weird seeing what they had become after so many years of torment, but it was nice to finally have some quiet. This didn’t mean I was completely free of all bullies however, I met new ones in high school that were much worse and far more cruel. After one particularly harsh day my once bully now acquaintance came over to help me stand again. I learned to lean on them and began to trust in them a little more after that day.
When high school was coming to close I still refused to consider them a friend never forgetting how much pain they caused me in my youth. And so once more we parted as acquaintances to continue onto the next chapter of our lives. This time around I didn’t cross six state lines but stayed in state. This was when I started college. I was shocked when I found out that they were to be my roommate I mean what are the odds of that? I still felt the ink under my skin swirl in a sort of salute to them. They remembered me this time around, but it wasn’t a bad thing. This time I allowed myself to become friends with them and we grew close. The tattoo was no longer a mistake but a well thought out decision that held meaning and color. They were now a friend that I could trust, and the ink didn’t just talk to me, but it sang. I want you to understand who they are so keep an open mind as I introduce to you……. my moles.
Brandon Conway Jun 2018
We walk pass and lock eyes
Ask ourselves if we know this guy
No? Pass on by.
iamtheavatar Nov 2016
I'm thinking about you.
In prose and ballads,
I'm writing words I know
I can't personally tell you.

I know we're not
Friends or even acquaintance,
But I can't help looking
At the pictures of you.

I know it sounds crazy
But I assure you,
Nothing is crazier
Than what you did to me.

I want you.

**iamthe_avatar ©2016
A poem for a woman I met on Tinder.
Ian Moonsy Jul 2016
To stop or not to,
When you have a connection,
It always remain.
Emily Chambers May 2016
My heart goes out to many
My heart goes out to few
To friends who have my back
To the one I saved for you

Many think we have one heart
But I find that to be untrue
For I love the ones around me
As much as I love you

Some think I over exaggerate
When I yell out "I love you"
To a stranger, an acquaintance I just met
But they deserve love, too

So understand this heart of mine
In the many pieces you see
Is not broken, no,
But used, to share with many

The many are the ones I just met
The few are the ones I hold dear
If the many give it back to me
Then I give more to the few
Hao Nguyen Apr 2016
If I were to ask
"who are you"
would you take the time
to have a conversation
with me and share your:
likes and dislikes,
loves and fears,
dreams and worries,
and strengths and insecurities,
becoming closer
as we had set out to be?
Or would you remain
my anonymous acquaintance
and simply share
only your name?
Vamsi Adarsh Nov 2015
Look where you go...The man said,
Look where you go...Life screamed.

Have I realised it late, to turn it around!

My books lay on the path, where
I found the man saying...Look where you go.

Have I realised it late, to avoid a run-in!

I did run into him again, but
this time, I knew him and he knew me

He was my acquaintance
The Man and Life are the same and yet different, asking and imploring her to turn it around. She ran into life and fell, and later found herslef in the same situation but this time, she was stronger and ready for she has already been Acquainted with Life.
BSeuss Nov 2015
Is that presence always doomed.
anticipation of entering another's
life. The hope of them entering yours.
The wait. Knowing effort could
crack the very time they linger.
The fear that distance will cause
opportunity to cease. The decision.
The stop light switches from green
to red. Never seeming to be a cautious
yellow light. Informing you to proceed

The feeling is wondrous with wait.
dreary with slight fear, even trepidation.


Hello there, you're familiar to me.
Did you know I exist. Or are you
yet to forget my face as well.

Will you stay in my life or will you fade too,
amongst all the others, old and new.

how wonky a feeling.

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