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Evelyn Ann Feb 5
My wildest fantasy is to cut my tongue out
Just to feel the pleasure that pain gives
And watch as my blood pour out of my mouth
As it runs down my neck and slips onto my tank-top to paint a perfect portrait

On regular days I wished
To lose a leg or two
Maybe break a few bones, throw in some toes
Just to see how I would look

Other days I wanted to go MIA
Leaving only bloodstains on my silk sheets
With an ax and suicide note, of course, to throw the Cops off
Just to write about it in my dairy

On sad days I wished I was robbed
Or attacked by a good looking stranger
Hit by a car, cow or something
Just to be notice

It's usually fun to have conversations with dead bodies
They listen well
It's even more fun turning them into antique furniture
Especially the teeth it gives zing to the ring

People say I’m crazy
Do you think I’m crazy?
No, I’m not

I’m a Sociopath there’s a difference!
Date Written: January 30, 2020
Note: This poem was written for a Career Day Presentation. I do not think or possess the above feelings or thought.
Evelyn Ann Feb 2
I was standing there alone when I realized, summer has come to an end
I realized that my exhausted days which have been graced by half-naked bodies are long gone
I realized that there’s no need to be uncomfortable, no need to cringe
Summer has come to an end

I realized that the earth has turned a new leaf
I realized that the burning beauty of summer has faded
I realized that this yellow greenery, so unreal, will no longer be here
Summer has come to an end

I realized that I will no longer hear the sweet melody of the ice-cream trucks that steals the hearts of children like a first kiss.
I realized that summer has left me with a sad melody, Titled ‘Goodbye Ice-Cream Truck’ by Screaming Children featuring T.T.B*
Summer has come to an end

I realized that radio man will no longer pester me to stay hydrated
I realized that there will be no more news of sudden forest fires
I realized that there will be no more late-night hot flashes
Summer has come to an end

I realized that my days are becoming nights and my nights becoming days, a change that signifies, another season has come to an end
I realized that the sea breeze has changed, that I too have changed, I too have come to an end
I realized that I’ll have to say goodbye

I realized that in my sleep I’ll have to dream of you as if nothing happened, no matter when
I realized that I’ll have to say Goodbye
Summer has come to an end
I have to say Goodbye

Goodbye Summer
Until we meet again
Written on October 19th, 2019.
T.T.B means Tantrum Throwing Babies.
Evelyn Ann Dec 2019
Descent Busan


Meaningful given

Through Cultural influences

He had a dream but

It was changed

His beginning contemporary

You can have your way

Call him an Idol

I call him Singularity in Busan

Possessed within him

Invaluable treasure

Pottery, paintings, and literature

Pieced together to form his ancestry lines

Born September 3

Descent Berbice


Meaningful given

Through Cultural influences

I had a dream but

It was changed

My beginnings poetry

You can have your way

Call me an outcast

I call me Serendipity in Berbice

Possessed within me

Invaluable treasure

Crafts, poetry, drum, paintings, and literature.

Pieced together to form my ancestry lines

Not different I guest

But they still Jude

They still point fingers

The thing is we don't care anymore

We have become proud of who we are

And they can't stop us loving ourselves

They can't stop me loving myself.
  Jan 2019 Evelyn Ann
Do you not see your greatness-
          Your beauty, that radiates from your smile?
Do you not understand that others look at you
          and see far deeper than you can with a mirror?
I know you don't think much of yourself,
         and I know you don't believe others kindness,
But there are people who think the world of you;
          so the next time you feel the doubt, the uncertainty
          weighing you down,
          my belief in you exceeds the stars.
  Jan 2019 Evelyn Ann
Em Glass
it wasn't snowing yet, but they'd told us it would.
probably I said something infantile, about how
I could smell it, the frostiness of snowflakes in the
air, because you smiled that knowing smile of yours,
like you were an adult and i was a child and you
didn't have the heart to take my innocence away.

that look always made my heart smile, sadly, and
it also drove me up a wall, partly because it made
me want to hug you close and pity you the
burden of assumed moral superiority, and whisper
that you, too were a child. but mostly because you
were right— I clung to my naiveté while you, you
had already had the good sense to push it away.
it followed you around with sad puppy eyes, but
you knew it and you kept it at arm's length.
you brave, brave soul.

when it did start to snow I wasn't surprised. you
were. you didn't say anything. we were in
a deserted school hallway, listening, removed
from the other kids' cries. we were
delighted too, but the others wanted to run home
early, and we knew the definition
of home better than they. and I can speak only for
myself but it seemed we both wanted only to stay
forever side by side, tucked away in our corner,
me reveling in the softness of love and friendship
and winter, you trying to be there with me but having
trouble leaving your mind, where that sad-eyed
puppy snapped at your heels. it whimpered
but you held your own.

and slowly, we built up moments like this one.
we wallowed in each other and in the coziness
of cloudy days. we read good poetry and
heard good music and took photographs as we
discussed life from our  softer world.
there were moments of such pure white happiness
that they came full circle to being sad,
simply because I knew I would never be that
happy again, and I was not wrong, and I didn't
want to be. and we had
sad moments, too, never ever think I am not
happy to be sad with you.

and slowly, too, your innocence knew its
defeat, and sat obediently at your feet,
and we shared things.
but I was a child, and a weak one at that, and
God knew I was not as strong as you so she
gave me no great suffering to speak of, to
share with you. no way to reciprocate the
vulnerability you gave, and that in
itself was suffering for me.

I regret that I was not good at saying things.
that while
you had to be your own adult and push childhood
away, I clung hopelessly to mine as
I discovered me and watched it slip
from my small hands.

among the plethora of reasons I can give for
bitterly hating sunny days is the
way the sun slanted through the window and lit
up your eyes and swilled particles around
your face like fairy dust on the day you reached
out and pulled my lanyard over your own neck.
look, you said, content. almost proud.
I'm wearing a bit of you around my
and you wove it through your
sunlit fingers, eyes bright. you tugged on it,
lightly. that's what love does, it strangles
you. and we all want it.

and I gasped at the way that word sounded,
so harsh in such beautiful sunlight on such
a soft face. but I don't want to strangle
. I said that. thoughtlessly,
instinctively. I regret it every day. in that regard,
you gave me a strength, but it's no german shepherd—
you are so **** strong.

when your ache tugged and tugged at you,
tore you from reality, or brought you closer to it,
it slipped its finger into that lanyard knot. loosened it.
I could have reached out right then, as you had when you
pulled the sun-soaked string over your head, and
tightened it. tightened us. been a friend.

I didn't tug the knot. if you run.
when you run,
I know that two grown dogs
will follow after you, blocked
from the sun by your receding shadow.
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