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zen Sep 2018
Bygones will be Bygones
and their baggage shall beg
to plow again.

Between the gains and confines
of the wrestled soul,
resinous,
behind his silver buttons
and navy knitted nylon
beneath it grey,
cunningly,
breathes the pain
of his flourishing.
you win some, you lose many more ;)
serpentinium Dec 2017
momma said she found me
ten steps from heaven’s porch,
nestled in bloodied saw grass, flickering
fireflies circlin’ like anxious cherubs.

i forgot what i was doing out there—
waist-deep between heaven and hell,
sleeping in Shiloh where bones
rattle and beetle shells fixed with chitin
hum steadily in the dead heat.

“you too young to die,” she says to me,
face all red and sunburned and marred
with tears. sadness becomes a part of her,
alongside mother, and farmhand, and guilt,
and miracle.

my memories slip past me on copper scales,
swimming underneath the current. i am ten
again, wading in the river, pockets full of
rocks and sea glass. i am twenty and the river
has become a fragile stream. i am thirty and
there is nothing but dirt.

i feel my childhood bleeding out of me,
a mix of red crayons, red paper plates
cradling birthday cakes, red kick-*****
at recess, red tulips pressed into my
sister’s cold hands.

momma said she found me
ten steps from heaven’s porch,
just out of reach of the lamplight,
where i left my childhood.
adolescence to adulthood is a tricky thing
Sai Sep 2015
This part of my day is called
A Fistful of Muddy Mushrooms

Because I feel like the embodiment of
something edible, yet poisonous;
Pure, yet filthy, putrid, covered
in the refuse of plants that die.

Maybe they should have refused
to die,
Maybe they should have
Tried
to reach their leaves up and up
until
an ant at the bottom felt
like they were BIG ENOUGH
And a giant thought they were just the
right size for dinner salad,

Because when I speak,
My heart strangles my vocal chords,
And my words sound much less of the
perfect
role model I really am.

How could I not be?

I serve young minds and cater to
small minds,
Much smaller than those they serve.

No one told me that growing up would
R.I.P the arms off my former child self,
Dangle the appendages in front of me,
while I watch monster after monster
Eat my flesh. Slowly. Delicately.

Like a dessert.

I wanted to grow up to be a kid.

I got my wish.

At the cost that I
Do Not
Belong
to the good graces of the Good People
around me

and all of us

scattered like leaves on the ground.
"This won't hurt."

"Maybe later, darling"
"Yes, we're nearly there."

"Nothing's going to change, it's just Daddy will live at his new house, and Mummy will stay living here."

"Things will be so much better when you get to secondary school."

"You'll definitely use what we learn in this lesson in future life."
"No, it's Daddy that doesn't want you to get your ears pierced, I'm fine with it."
"We'll be best friends forever, won't we?"
"No, I liked him before you liked him."

"I hate you."

"I love you"

"These exams are the most important things you've done so far."
"That haircut looks so good on you!"
"Of course I know how to pierce ears, who doesn't?!"

"These exams are the most important things you've done so far."
"Things will be so much better when you get to university."

"Nah, no-one's actually allergic to MDMA, I reckon it's a government conspiracy."
"Seven inches, swear down."
"Oh, that assignment? It's at home."

"No, honestly darling, I love your tattoo!"

"I love you."
"I won't be late."

"Now you're in the real world!"

Any sentence that starts with the words "When I was your age..."

"It's not that I don't like him..."
"Oh come on! It'll be fun."

"You're too young to be this sad."

"This won't hurt."
Sarah Lennon Jun 2014
She woke up early
To see what the Easter Bunny brought her
And she fed her dog jellybeans
And she put on her new baby blue dress
With the matching hat
And couldn't sit still in Church.

She woke up early
To find that the Easter Bunny only brought Dad’s favorite candy
And her mom sat her down
And said, “The Easter Bunny is a fantasy”
And her dog got stomach cancer and couldn't eat the jellybeans.
Her baby blue dress was too small
But she wore it anyways
With pants underneath
And the matching hat,
And she got a cramp in her neck
From counting the ceiling tiles in church.

She woke up early
To the sound of her parents fighting
And she climbed into the bed of the pickup truck
And told her brother about Easters he was too young to remember
Of baby blue dresses
With matching hats
And how they used to have a dog that ate the jellybeans.
She wore her pajamas to church
And refused to get out of the car.
Not even when her mother cried.

She woke up late
To the sound of DVR’d episodes of Pawn Stars
And her dad told her that taking the SATs once was not good enough
And her boyfriend needs to take driver’s ed.
And they didn't go to church
Because her mom didn't live there anymore.
So she put on a different dress,
Dark blue with no matching hat,
And drove that pickup truck off the bridge.
Laughing as the cab filled up
With death’s cold fingers.
Wrote this when I was in a bad place a few years ago.  Went back and edited it recently.

— The End —