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Eera Jun 2022
Remember the times you caught me crying?
used to make up excuses when you won't stop prying.
I had no courage to tell you;
how many times I've doubted you.
Cause you meant more to me;
than any of my insecurities.
I was miserable, wasn't I?
used to vent out my feelings, didn't lie.
I loved him beyond limits, you knew;
My girls were fully aware too.
Maybe our bond wasn't strong,
or else I could've forgiven you.
Maybe the world didn't know,
how much I really tried to.
You had your reasons,
he was sad and depressed,
and you chose to go address;
leaving me in distress.
You called me your best friend,
then why did you hide it?
I was right there, a meter away from your bed.
You called me your best friend,
then how could you **** him?
in the same places, you knew I loved him.
You called me your best friend,
then how could you not know?
how deep a scar, those actions will carve.
Our bond was like a holy thread,
anything it could sustain,
broken once and tying a knot,
won't make it pure again.
Sister or sinister,
I am not sure anymore.
Friend or fiend,
perhaps you were both.
I wish I could lend a hand,
but it's harder for me to stand.
Roots that run so deep;
I fall to my knees.
You've got many best friends,
so what if you lose one friend?
You made a choice and chose your path,
no good will come from seeking the past.
Look ahead, with no regret;
for I consider you, my kindest crook.
she wanted to be friends again
Anais Vionet May 2022
My suitemate Sunny is from Nebraska. She’s 5’9,” and has cinnamon brown hair that’s half messy-bob, just long enough that she can twist it up with a pearl-studded comb, and half mohawk. She has the long, slanky elegance of someone who’s spent most of her 18 years outdoors.

She’s a cowgirl. There’s a well-worn sage-nova cowgirl hat hanging on her dorm wall and she has her own horse - a red-roan quarter-horse named Valentine - at home, of course. Her best friend growing up was a Sioux girl named Wachiwi who shared her love of barrel racing and lived on a nearby reservation.

Wachiwi was the first person Sunny came out to, at 10. Sunny was 13 when she came out to her family. “I like girls,” Sunny declared defiantly, out of the blue, one night after dinner, “not boys.” Her younger brother had snickered, her older brother rolled his head and said, “Oh, lord.” Her two little sisters seemed unconcerned. Her dad, after a moment’s thought, responded by asking her if she had taken the kitchen scraps out to the chickens yet.

Sunny grew up on a ranch and there was a rigid structure to her days. She would get up early and do ranch chores (muck out horse stalls, feed the chickens, gather eggs and set out hay) then study - but her first love was World of Warcraft.

Sunny was homeschooled and her stories of how that was accomplished are epic. For instance, they had three satellite internet services which she would have to switch between, throughout the day, like a gambler hoping to get lucky and every other Saturday they drove three hours to exchange books at the library. Whatever they did though, it worked. She’s unholy smart - like someone made a deal with the devil smart.

Sunny describes Nebraska as “basic, cliche and poor.”
“Wow,” Leong says, “you really paint a picture.”
“We all inhabited different worlds,” Sunny says, shruggingly, “Lisa’s from skyscraper clouds, Anais a palace, Leong a dystopian communist hellscape..”
“I wouldn’t say a palace,” I demur. “WHAT,” Leong screeches, throwing popcorn at Sunny.
“Stop!” Sunny says, raising both hands to ward-off further snack assaults.
“I just mean, if you were to go live in Nebraska - you’d have to go in on those terms - expecting something basic, unimaginative and poor, periodt.
“I couldn’t wait to excape.” she says, definitively, “I was thirsty.”

Everything about Sunny is deliberate, she looks you in the eye. Like a madwoman let out of the attic, she takes perverse joy in being fiercely blunt, raw and outspoken. She has a drive that can’t be mollified - she’s making her life over and you better not get in her way. The girl cracks me up - I could stand to be more like her.

Sunny’s joining my world this June for most of summer vacation. “Maybe you could show me Nebraska one day.” I say. “Maybe.. someday..” she says trailing off with a far off look, “but I wouldn’t do that to you, you’d go CrAzY in three days.”

“I’ll own that,” I say, wiping away fake tears.
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Mollify: "to reduce in intensity."

Slanky = both slinky and lanky
Periodt = an absolute period - the last word - end of discussion.
Excape = future tense of escape
Thirsty = desperate for something
Cliche = unimaginative
Anais Vionet Apr 2022
Lisa comes into my room and flops on the bed. The day had been uncompromisingly gray, windy and cold. The night sky was a snowy, blowing darkness, an absolute void that absorbed the campus lights and reflected nothing back. “I’m missing Spring Break,” Lisa she says.

“It doesn’t even seem like Spring Break happened,” I say. “Most Yalies went to Puerto Rico this year, I think, from my sampling.”

“RIGHT?” Lisa said, “EVERYONE says that - we’re in sync. But I enjoyed Paris,” Lisa continued, “I liked your family - no - I LOVED your family,” she amends.

“THAT’s a strong take,” I say, chuckling.

“I watched basketball with your uncle (Rémi) and cousins and helped your grandma cook,” she explains, “I felt like a part of your family.”

“Aww,” I say, “You ARE part of my family now - you’re TRAPPED,” and we laughed.

They invented spring break because after several months, the student mind starts to notice a harsh reality - how much their dorm room resembles a cinder-block jail cell - and starts to wonder how a lifetime of study and stress over grades has gotten them no further in life than the average felon.

We’re at lunch. Lisa says, “Ok, what’s new with you?” Keep in mind we see each other ten times a day.

“Well,” I say, I’ve decided that “The Beatles are for spring.” Lisa laughs. “Stop!” I demand, “I’m going deep. Today’s song is Julia,” I say, “It’s John Lennon’s song to his mom who was run over by a car when he was a child.”  “I love that song,” Lisa says.

“Ok, what about you?” I ask.
“My song right now is “Move like a Boss,” Lisa says, “When I’m walking across campus, with my air pods on - I’m intense, don’t get in my way - I’m dangerous, I’ll Will Smith you - I scare me.”

“Good to Know,” I say, wishing I’d gotten a lemon brownie.

Then I add, “I’ve got this presentation on Monday that I haven’t even had time to look at yet. If I don’t get on it by this weekend it’ll be a nuclear-level disaster. I started on it yesterday and the Internet went down for 20 minutes. It was stressful - of course, you don’t know how long the outage is going to be when you’re IN it - and I had THINGS to do - is that convoluted? ”

“No,” Lisa says, nodding in agreement, “losing the Interweb’s traumatic.”
BLT word of the day challenge: Convoluted: "very complicated and difficult to understand."
Anais Vionet Feb 2022
We were in the cafeteria, having just sat down with our trays. The place, which looks like a modern, medium sized ski lodge, was almost empty. I’m registering more and more faces these days. Most are transient acquaintances from the dorm or classes. There were nods. My little group was my roommate, Leong, myself and a girl named Lucy from our chemistry class. Lucy can solve a chemical equation faster than either of us - she calls herself an idiot savant.

Lucy’s one of those overwrought girls who don’t believe food is necessary for survival and who stare anxiously at blueberries. Lucy’s tray has a spoon, a napkin and one small, plain yogurt on it. I got salmon, a bit of Pad Thai, a slice of pizza and some desert. You could feed a family of four from my tray. I always sit with my back to windows - it’s a glare avoidance thing.

Right after my first bite I saw Jordie. The world narrowed to Jordie. He was emerging from the serving area and seemed to enter the room like an actor coming center stage. He was dressed for soccer, complete with knee-high socks, shoes with cleats that clacked like a tap-dancer and little shorts - it was 39°f outside.

“Jordie,” Leong said, in a whisper that held the enthusiasm a cop would use to declare “GUN!”
I couldn’t register an answer, I was transfixed. Then Leong did something I’ll never forget - she raised her arm in a peremptory wave, signaling Jordie over to our table.

I turned to her in stark horror, but just as my lips started to form the words “***,” he was upon us. “Morning!” He says, as he slides in directly across from me and begins organizing his lunch. I look down at my plate, concentrating on my noodles like a bomb disposal tech, defusing a nuclear suitcase bomb.

“Beautiful day.” he says, looking out on the bright, crisp morning in back of us. Leong starts a conversation with him about soccer. It’s clear that she’s been talking to him but I’m not really listening. I’m watching him. Watching him fixedly, surreptitiously in my peripheral vision. Watching him eat, talk and breathe - he breathes just like a regular person only better.

Then Leong and Lucy start moving, gathering everything up to leave. I realize I haven’t actually eaten anything much - a bite of Pad Thai maybe. I stand as well, looking down, wrapping my slice of pizza in two napkins and stuffing it, an apple, a blonde-cinnamon-roll, an orange and three chocolate walnut cookies into my bookbag.

Jordie looks up from his tray. I have such a crush on this guy. It’s heady and embarrassing. His gaze makes me feel like I have awkward, grasshopper limbs. He smiles unreservedly and it hits, like a force multiplier, I’m sure I flushed crimson. I’m surprised how strongly I can respond to his just looking and smiling at me.

As we leave the cafeteria, walking towards the residence, I turn on Leong, “What was THAT?!” I ask, beginning to work myself up into something.

“I’ve been friendly with him - we have English class” Leong patiently explains, “I wanted you to meet him and get a chance to talk,” and after a moment of silence she adds, “and you never said anything!”

I shivered - the wind was freezing - only an idiot would play soccer out in this cold.

I don’t care if my crush is embarrassingly obvious to my friends. It’s pleasantly, invisible to others - I think.

I want to relish the pining - the lusting - it’s delicious. There are times you don’t want to talk to the guy - you just want to keep crushing.

You don’t want to learn things about the man - the red flags - and you always learn EVERYTHING, like what their major is or that they’re a man’s man.

In the learning, they slip from that lofty echelon of dream-lovers - you lose the hot, playlist feeling - the cheesy, corny, giddy, love SICK.

Maybe that’s where love’s real thrill is - in our imaginations. So give me the mystery - for now.
*Slang: someone’s “major” = a person’s kink

BLT word of the day challenge:
peremptory: means insisting on immediate attention
echelon: a level in a select group of individuals
Anais Vionet Feb 2022
Sunny and her love-object have broken up.

It was a selfie-inflicted wound - a slapdash pic taken,
that like a puzzle, revealed more than intended.

We try to be thoughtful and considerate but
we’ve only recently escaped from captivity.

Perfectly nice people are capable of unfaithful deeds.
Isn’t that what so much of great literature is about?

Our lives are written in disappearing ink,
and it’s not as if all kisses are meaningful.

We stretch for happiness or for fleeting pleasure
- we’re not married and only vaguely committed.

What would tempt you - what could you actually resist at 18?
Or now - but maybe you’re a saint.
BLT word of the day challenge: slapdash: means "haphazard," "slipshod," or "sloppy."
Anais Vionet Feb 2022
Leong squirms up to me at breakfast, in the cafeteria.

“May I ask..,” she said, looking around like a secret agent getting ready to make a dead-drop, “what contraceptives do you use?”

I thought this an odd question from someone who just broke up with her long-time boyfriend but, hey, I’m an open book.

“Isolation and despair,” I replied, which got me an eye roll.

“You’re never serious!” She admonishes me.
BLT word of the day challenge: admonish: a gentle disapproval
mary liles Aug 2021
i have never had to share
not a room
not a bathroom
not clothes
i have never had to share
and now i cannot share my heart
MSunspoken Dec 2020
Giant Golden
Breathing in
The sun

Tall and Sturdy
Dancing in
The wind

Wide Green
Drinking up
The rain

Long Powerful
Digging through
The Earth

Biggest, Brightest
Giving light to
The world
My roommate, my best friend, my sister- Merry Christmas, and thank you for the light you've given me.
Rosie Nov 2020
We decided to build a house
Made from glass dreams and ceilings of too high expectations
Laughter and secrets coated the walls
And dance parties lasted all night long.

But a storm came
With insecure winds and alcoholic rain,
And shattered the glass house.

I desperately collected the broken pieces
Slicing my hands and cutting my heart
Making my skin burn as I tried to mend the broken parts.

Worn out bandages and glue well past the expiration date
Were never going to fix this pile of glass
Though I never stopped trying
Til I noticed you had rocks in your hand
With no intention of ever putting them down.

So I let go of the glass
That forever marked my skin
And I walked away from the mess you made
Remembering to never
Build a house made of glass
Ever again.
eh... haven't written in awhile and decided to take a swing at it.
Julia Shaw Oct 2020
Once I had an undesirable roommate
I was in college at the time
I was assigned to a girl not so great
She did things I considered crimes

I thought if I don’t get some relief
I will lose what is left of my mind
My stay at this college will be brief
How can I leave my troubles behind

I walked down the hall of my dorm
Feeling very sad and forlorn
Then suddenly I had a brainstorm
That would heal all the hurt I had born

Quickly I slipped into another room
I met a girl I had long admired
Holding my breath, did I dare presume
She was working quietly and seemed inspired

I didn’t know if she knew who I was
If she would even listen to my request
I told her the problem that had caused
My world to be so greatly upset

She seemed not a bit surprised at all
For in a dorm rumors fly like the wind
She smiled at me and my southern drawl
Would you like to join me and move right in

Her words were like a balm to my soul
I quickly moved my possessions in before
My old roommate could return and stroll
In to make a drama scene that I abhor
That was my college freshman year
I remember many friends and good times
But the best decision I made was clear
Moving in with Jean Shuey was prime

She was smart and always a lady so fine
Five years older with some gray in her hair
I was an extrovert and spoke my mind
Together we made the ideal pair

All that year she gave me much pleasure
Studying and talking late into the night
I always thought of her as my treasure
Without her I would have been in a plight

Time has its way of rushing on
After college we lost contact
I saw her a few times over days gone
But I failed to call or keep track

Today I decided to contact her again
Soon I found her address and phone
I wondered if her would still be my friend
Or would rather just be left alone

We talked for hours of good times and bad
So much to catch up on after thirty years
We both had lost our dear mom and dad
But we said good-bye without any tears

We planned to email each other often
And meet at a restaurant for a meal
I hope we never again let years soften
Our love and admiration, time will not steal
I wrote this poem a few weeks ago about my roommate during my freshman year away.   She now lives about 30 miles from me and we plan to get together again after about 40 years. She was very special to me.
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