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 Jul 2019 ravyn
Janelle Tanguin
But our eyes can't unmeet,
and you can't unwound my heart,
the strings you tugged at.
I'm not the kind of person you keep 
when you let everything just
fall apart.

You were always the first one
to bolt out the door
when the curtains caught fire,
when the faucet spewed dirt
instead of water.

What little light I thought you saw
in my fluorescent eyes,
couldn't get past your opacity
and you just watched them
burn out.

It was always going to end
exactly like
 Jan 2019 ravyn
Jonathan Witte
 Jan 2019 ravyn
Jonathan Witte
Burnt toast and
a spot of blood.

Father dresses for work
and leaves with a wave,
his gabardine suit
the exact same shade
as the storm cloud blooming
on the back of his left hand.

After breakfast, mother pins
his undershirts to the wash line,
clothespins clenched
between broken teeth.

From my upstairs window,
I watch his shirts stiffening
in the flinty December air,
a chorus of white flags,
obsequious and clean.

Mother recovers in the laundry room,
where the floor is dusted with feeble
grains of spilled detergent.

I spend the afternoon
preparing for the sound
of tires crunching on gravel,
for the sweep of headlights
across the lawn.

There are plans
and maneuvers
to arrange.


Even now, the snow
on the side of the road

has turned to the color
of my childhood.
 Jan 2019 ravyn
She Writes
You asked me why I like you
But I didn’t want to tell
Some of my reasons are cheesy...
But here is why I fell

I love the way your lips curve
When I make you smile
It makes me want to pull you close
And kiss you for awhile

I love the way your eyes twinkle
When you talk about things you love
I truely believe
You are a gift from above

I love that you are compassionate
You have such a big heart
That was the first thing I noticed
Right from the start

I love the way it feels
When you hold me tight
I finally feel safe
Like I could sleep through the night

I love that you don’t judge me
For my less than perfect self
That is more attractive
Than any amount of wealth

There are so many more reasons
But I’ll start with just this few
Maybe someday
I’ll give this poem to you

 Jan 2019 ravyn
it is not just pink for girls
and blue for boys
or laundry for moms
and desk jobs for dads.

it is self confidence plummeting
because your nine year old legs
look different than the others

girls aren’t supposed to be hairy.

it is watching the cheerleading team
through the windows of the gymnasium
hoping the other kids don’t see you

boys are supposed to play basketball.

it is being called bossy
for voicing your ideas
to say what you believe in

girls are supposed to be quiet.

it is a lack of empathy
from years of quieting
your emotions

boys aren’t supposed to cry.

it is being placed in a box
that is too small and
being told to cut off your legs
so you can fit inside it

we are not contortionists.
 Jan 2019 ravyn
Janelle Tanguin
i fell in a sea of crystal clear honey,
sank to the deepest abyss
floating, swimming
through candy-coated dreams.

i get a kid's licorice kind of high
everytime you look at me
with liquid warmth, laughter, summer--
those beautiful amber eyes.

i'm caught in a strawberry avalanche
caramel popsicle knees melting in milliseconds
i don't know how you trigger
my hidden sugar rush obsession.

can i comb my fingers through the maze
of your curly cotton candy hair?
can i taste the chocolate peppermint fragrance
surrounding your atmosphere?

i'd give up my innocence,
to live in your confectionary world.
rot my teeth, stay sweet
be your blueberry cheese cake, vanilla ice cream girl.
 Jan 2019 ravyn
Janelle Tanguin
 Jan 2019 ravyn
Janelle Tanguin

i used to only write sad poems.


you see,
i am a cynic,
a cemetery,
a holocaust,
a chaotic, distant, lost girl
buried in her own

but with you
i am different.

i want to wake up,
keep my promises,
make up for lost time,
spill blood and ink,
try again,

for you.


you walk me home
and the skies blush
pink cloud summers

we part and i marvel
at the sepia tint
of backyard roses
blurring my lenses.

you came in
like the missing palette color
i never knew
i needed
my skies painted with.


now, you are all the love poems
i didn't know i could write.

and every metaphor i create
is just a lengthier version of
'i love you'

i really do.
 Jan 2019 ravyn
Janelle Tanguin

I intentionally failed to wish you
a happy birthday this year,
though I know significant dates,
hours, moments, people,
by heart.
I still search for you in boys
I mistake for bandages,
the ones with eyes almost
the same shade of your hazels,
lips resounding your laughter,
resembling a wisp of your smile,
But they aren't you.


Sometimes I pretend you're dead,
because it's less painful
to stop reaching out into voids.


My mom still blames you
for everything that preceded that year.
Though you probably had no idea what happened
when we stopped talking altogether.
Can you believe it's almost been three years?


My dad wonders who was my 'one that got away'
Though, I'm pretty sure he knows
it's you.


Remember how I mentioned Sylvia Plath?
How most everything she wrote
brimmed with melancholy?
How I loved every single word?
Especially that piece
where she talked about expectations
and disappointments.
You'll never know that
up to this day I still think
people are selfish enough to
always, eventually turn into the latter.
Even you.


It's sad I never got the chance
to tell you about Ted.
How she loved him so much,
she just had to dive headfirst
into the flames-- burning herself,
what was left of her--
after she found out
he never really loved her
the same way
she loved him
in the first place.


truth is,
some of us
never learn to accept
the love we think we deserve.


I don't know if you still read my poems
or if you still think about me,
about us, sometimes.
Every time you fall asleep past eleven,
a part of me hopes you do.
because I always remember you--
in birthday candles, red ribbons,
off-tune voice records, golden arches,
concrete sidewalks, pedestrian lanes,
the last flickers of city lights
softly fading out of the blue.
I remember you
in everything, in everywhere,
in everyone.
It's useless, no matter how much I try to forget.
No matter how much I just want to forget.
I want to forget.

But, how could I?

When forgetting means forsaking
the very memory of you.
 Jan 2019 ravyn
 Jan 2019 ravyn
and when you said
laughter is like a foreign language
i imagined that i was
teaching you how to
speak it
jcl. you said you don’t laugh much just in general, but i sat with you for two and a half hours and that’s all we did. i’ve missed this. i’ve missed you.
 Jan 2019 ravyn
olivia anne
you use me;
string me along
like you have for years.
you whisper in my ear
just as i'm forgetting you,
tap my shoulder
as i'm walking away,
and i always whisper back,
turn around,
look at that smile,
and i'm doomed.
i wrote this poem on january 10, 2018 after a boy i had liked for years finally paid attention to me. wish i had known back then that some people just have flirty personalities.
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