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when i was ten i discovered these books about summer
it seemed all the chapterbooks were filled with strange stories of girls finding their destiny by the sea as their whole life changed between boardwalk adventures and family urgency, like melodrama in small increments with too much sunscreen
something about one of them specifically stayed with me for years
the cover was of the shore and the sand dollars lined in a row as if waiting to be picked up or maybe had just been put down
something about them gave me the impression that this could be my life
an eternal summer that i didn't have to abandon, the book i didn't have to close, look into the sun and not have to pick my body up from the water
it seemed agreed upon that i could live in a continuous day
nighttime didn't exist and the moon was a name given to my mother's friend
everything was promised warm, my feet would touch pavement while my hair was permanently bleached
but the sunset came and shook my shoulders

i stand in my bathroom
cold and harmless
the window is fragmented so no one can look at your ***** body but it makes everything outside look like when you didn't realize you needed glasses and once you did every memory was post foggy
i could be a dying star or a sun brushing its' rays and you'd never know
sometimes my hands are so clean my nails taste like soap and there's no way to go about it but accepting that

there used to be a fire
and if i had to give it a name it would be Frederick
i don't know when it disappeared or how it even started existing
one day someone asked me if i knew how much wholesale toothpaste cost and my feet curled, i bit my lip so hard in fear i would scream until my throat bled
but that didn't happen instead something burst, not a vein but a sentiment
there were theories i used to develop while i went on dinner dates
i remember thinking of what i now reference as the sangria theory
while we sat and ate pasta and i could feel my head drifting while his eyes sank into the bottom of my shirt
i thought maybe all the people that you meet have no chance but a say
all circumstantial until you find something that harvests your attention
until you slip past the underwear and then nothing feels important anymore
was it ever?
you go separate ways, separate directions
as if in fear of finding something too close to whatever it is you're trying to find because then what would be the point of looking?
there was a fire and now there's a glow and i can't tell which one i like more
When the sun has gone to sleep
And ghosts have had their time to creep
Imps and goblins awaken to
Do the things that monsters do
There once was a mouse

Who lived in our house

You'd often him hear him sing

Until the cat did gobble him
just a bit a fun haha
My mind is full of wonder
Why did you ever say hi
You are a stranger to me
That's why I responded with bye.

My mind is full of wonder
Why did you ever smile
Now I want to know more about you, stranger
And I need to ponder why

My mind is full of wonder
When you start to speak
We talk about things that aren't so sweet

Thoughts in my mind start to wander off
I know there's something about you
That won't turn me off

My mind is full of wonder
Why we haven't mentioned our names
Perhaps, this is all just fun and games.
sushii 4d
We would be friends...
That's how it could have been.
We would have fun...
That's how it could have been.

I wonder why I still think of how you might see me?
The opportunity has passed already.
I wonder why I still fancy having a conversation with you?
That's no longer possible.

Maybe, one day we could still be friends...
That's how it could be.
We might be able to have fun...
That's how it can be.

Maybe, one day your friendship
Could breathe into me
The life that I held so dear,
But had forgotten so easily.
It's quite strange but nice
How it's odd and precise.

You can gun with a gun,
And a run can long run.

And an 'S' can turn laughter
To nothing short of slaughter.

If you're hot, they will drool
But be warm, and stay cool.

Head off with your head up
Face it head on, so heads up!

It is a deep and rich mine
For all to mine, yet mine.
Under the Christmas tree
Are toys for you and me:
First we have our personal phones;
Now, we can each have our own drones…
They fly high – they fly low –
Hovering to and fro.
Like eerie will-o’-the-wisp they fly…
Appearing like dust specks in the sky…
They fly high…they fly low…
We can’t see where they go…
Suddenly here! Silently there!
Like ghosts, they show up everywhere!
Like aliens, out of a nightmare –
Disappearing, ev’n as we stare…
Under the Christmas tree
Are drones for you and me…
I was a tall order,

                            but the bill
                            was cheap.

And I filled you up every time
Every breath is a balloon
    rising and floating away.

We never hold onto them,
as its nicer to watch
                         them soar.

And who want to hold on,
  when we have our
           feet on the ground.
And can watch them dance in the air.
Watching your breath in the crisp air :)
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