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"ava" poems
When I told my phsysical therapist that I'm a lesbian, her answer was a question I did not ever expect; "So... Are you a lesbian because you are disabled and you cannot get a boyfriend?" I was speechless, looking at the wall, stunned. Holy **** she did not just stereotype every single disabled homosexual to have ever existed. I stammered no, and I tried to explain that I have had boyfriends before, it just wasn't my thing. Looking back now I realise that, I should not have explained anything because I don't ever need to explain anything about the people I love. I have had a thing for girls, since I was three, and when I was three years old I did not notice my disability, the way it's being noticed today. And the absolute most heartbreaking thing about both my sexuality and my disability is, that I still do not notice it as much as everybody else seems to do. I can be the best girlfriend ever, no matter what my sexuality is, no matter how my body looks. And don't get me wrong; I like guys too. I think guys are wonderful. If God had created Eve and Ava, who would have brought me into this World? I can get a boyfriend if I want one, maybe someday I find the most amazing guy ever, and I will not let my sexuality stand in my way. But for now, I am a disabled homosexual, who decided to tell you about it. And dear physical therapist: I have never judged you, not even when you told me you fell for a fat guy, and now you're married. So don't ask me if I'm only a lesbian, due to the fact that I have a disability, because guess what? I'll have my disability no matter if, the person I'm dating, has a ***** or a ****** (e.k.j.)
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Jan 1, 2016
Jan 1, 2016 at 2:24 PM UTC
A lesson for my phsysical therapist
When I told my phsysical therapist that I'm a lesbian, her answer was a question I did not ever expect; "So... Are you a lesbian because you are disabled and you cannot get a boyfriend?" I was speechless, looking at the wall, stunned. Holy **** she did not just stereotype every single disabled homosexual to have ever existed. I stammered no, and I tried to explain that I have had boyfriends before, it just wasn't my thing. Looking back now I realise that, I should not have explained anything because I don't ever need to explain anything about the people I love. I have had a thing for girls, since I was three, and when I was three years old I did not notice my disability, the way it's being noticed today. And the absolute most heartbreaking thing about both my sexuality and my disability is, that I still do not notice it as much as everybody else seems to do. I can be the best girlfriend ever, no matter what my sexuality is, no matter how my body looks. And don't get me wrong; I like guys too. I think guys are wonderful. If God had created Eve and Ava, who would have brought me into this World? I can get a boyfriend if I want one, maybe someday I find the most amazing guy ever, and I will not let my sexuality stand in my way. But for now, I am a disabled homosexual, who decided to tell you about it. And dear physical therapist: I have never judged you, not even when you told me you fell for a fat guy, and now you're married. So don't ask me if I'm only a lesbian, due to the fact that I have a disability, because guess what? I'll have my disability no matter if, the person I'm dating, has a ***** or a ****** (e.k.j.)
Continue reading...
42
My Doppelganger holds secret negotiations with my Avatar. Slicing up the available territory by flipping a coin. Apparently, I can see a me for myself if I happen to be in Somalia next Monday. But that’s the Avator talking. Doppelganger is betting on Seattle. I am eavesdropping, sitting around in my underwear. They think I am unaware because I can’t see them, but they are impossible without me. Goethe, Shelley and John Donne are in the next apartment huddled over some broken poems each had written on the mirrors. No mistakes were made. No reflections. They get to see themselves out of the corner of one eye, for up to nine seconds which is like a lifetime to remember. Yet the acrid smell of Neitzsche emanates from dark corners. Sturm und Drang be ****** Neitzsche is convinced no one has ever looked like him, but he does suggest a parallel universe. Abe Lincoln, a latecomer and unlikely participant, picks up a few pointers. He knows full well that what he saw was not a reflection. And he rode that train all the way from Pittsburg. All those windows... And, yes, KA, the spirit double, the Egyptian Goddess, goes in **** as the Greek Princess and shows up as Helen to tease Paris of Troy. How can you not believe that? For Goddess sake, she helped end the Trojan War. I have a lot of time on my hands. I don’t get out much. Ava and Dopp came by just to let me know I’m still around.
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Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 4:57 PM UTC
My Doppleganger
I hold your life in my hands: small squares of time, caught out of context. Picture this! they say, tempting me to remember. And I do. I remember a chubby baby’s face, caught in heavy sepia tones. My twin, ‘though of another generation. Years later, Fujicolor would reveal our only real differences in auburn hair and emerald eyes that I loved too well to envy. An Ava Gardner look-alike, who looked at me with a mommy’s eyes: emerald eyes that cried when I hurt and sparked with a humor that never faltered. I remember a strong-willed woman holding a family together amid shattering dreams, emerald eyes that grew jaded, and a humor that colored your pain. And I remember loving you -- ‘though God knows liking you came hard! Both of us strong-willed women with nothing but a shade of hair and hue of eye to separate us. That, and a lifetime of differing opinions. And I remember holding your life in my hands watching the light fade from your emerald eyes and I’d give what’s left of life to have more than their memory and small squares of your life to hold in my hands.
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Jan 5, 2012
Jan 5, 2012 at 4:45 PM UTC
First Time Alone (the Mom poem)
Her name is Ava, An autistic girl who just needs love, A beautiful angel sent to us, From almighty God, up above. She's in her own little world, That is far from here, What she doesn't know is that she's loved, An innocent girl who lives in fear. She may be aggressive at times, Disobey the rules and cry, But she can't help her actions, We can only hope and try. I can empathize with her, I can cry like her as well, But I will never see the world through Ava's eyes, A girl with much to tell. :)
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Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 8:03 PM UTC
"Ava"
Once upon a time As time was once upon us, Would have you and I in love and to dream of Although today, we are nothing more then... Were before's Way back then Used to be's But today just friends Once upon a time Ex-partners in crime You keep yours & Ill keep you in mind But today though Still just friends Once before's Way back when Now nothing more Then acquaintances Agreed upon unanimously Too,new beginnings With two different ends Never will be's Ever again Now just bad memories Of an Ex-benificial friend Yesterday's news Last Months Blues We're before's Still no-more's Weren't really even back then Yet someone I catch myself still missing My Ex-Selfie sharing ,best friend AvA
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May 16, 2018
May 16, 2018 at 8:55 PM UTC
Time that was once upon us
Constellations settled high above us, the endless night, deep as the ocean. The moon lies watching us shedding light over the dense forest, yawning, waiting for her brother to take over. Misty vapors sit over us, Our eyes shut, listening. My casual garden of Eden your fragrant strawberry gum, clouded by the poison of your rude cigarette, and the soft rose perfume you always wear. Whispers of a breeze float by, blowing hair over your gaunt cheeks. When your patience is finally exhausted, you sit up, your voice ripping the silence. I hear your carefree tone, but see a traveler in your eyes, with the weight of the world, resting on your shoulders. The rotting facade strapped on each day, cannot conceal just how much you want to vanish, endlessly searching for an escape, longing to be a ghost. But you pick up another cigarette and breathe.
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Sep 14, 2013
Sep 14, 2013 at 1:28 AM UTC
Ava
I knew a boy who came from the sea. He traced my scares and kissed them. He couldn't understand the pain that I had conquered up in my head. He was the only one who had ever known the truth about me. My therapist though I had made him up. She couldn't grasp someone so graceful, and so magical could ever exist. He did exist. He existed more than I ever could. I would let him read through my journals full of poems, and self harm. And he would touch my arm, and leave burn marks. I had four so far going up my wrist. At night lying in the dark, the round burns on my wrist faintly glowed. And when I traced over them his face flashed through my mind. I would spend each day with him, but the moments we had to divid I will never forget. I stand facing him, as he lifts his hand in front of my chest. He smiles. I start to smile back until a sharp pain rushes up my spine, and out my chest. Everything gets bright, and my head goes dizzy. It almost feels as if something is being pulled out from my chest. Everything goes dark, and numb. And after awhile I gasp for air, and open my eyes. I'm alone again, as if it never happened. As if I never was with him. This is not new.
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Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 6:04 PM UTC
Ava Adore
This happy land of Diemens, dogs and bush-walks, Creative flurries, chats over beer, spag bol and chocolate. Van trip, scoot down the coast, Wander along the beach. Talk of this and that, laugh And put the world to rights. Thrash out ideas, share some thoughts, Wonder if living could be easier? Two friends who shared a trip to the Beach twenty years back take stock; And find that from start they had more in common than they knew. Now seperated by ten thousand miles, A thousand quid and two days flying, They're closer than they were sat facing front in that old escort van. Another chapter ends Or begins Or begins and ends. I awake and think of boarding, My plane. I hadn't realised how simple it was To just be, To just exist side by side With an old friend who you connect with. No need for the usual preambles Just straight to the core. Don't waste time, because 20 years fit badly into five days. And What happens if you click cancel.... before the download has finished? I'm so reluctant to leave. These days have been so easy and fun and blessed. Brotherhood is hard to find And when will I return? A red light shines through my window And appears on the wall across the room. It blinks yellow and moves as the people opposite Reverse from their drive And head off to work. The daylight outside is growing, The rumble in the air is not traffic But waves breaking on the shore About fifty meters away. Soon I'll get up, make tea And we'll all go for a walk. Me, my frind Toby, Pablo the happy staffie And Ava the lucky foster dog, Wandering care free along the beach as the waves break around our feet. A plane flies overhead. Taking the **** Okay I know! All things come to an end. And this too shall pass. It's just I haven't often wanted to stay this much. It's so fun here, And life outside can be a bit full on.
0
Oct 1, 2015
Oct 1, 2015 at 1:05 PM UTC
Van Diemen's Land
This happy land of Diemens, dogs and bush-walks, Creative flurries, chats over beer, spag bol and chocolate. Van trip, scoot down the coast, Wander along the beach. Talk of this and that, laugh And put the world to rights. Thrash out ideas, share some thoughts, Wonder if living could be easier? Two friends who shared a trip to the Beach twenty years back take stock; And find that from start they had more in common than they knew. Now seperated by ten thousand miles, A thousand quid and two days flying, They're closer than they were sat facing front in that old escort van. Another chapter ends Or begins Or begins and ends. I awake and think of boarding, My plane. I hadn't realised how simple it was To just be, To just exist side by side With an old friend who you connect with. No need for the usual preambles Just straight to the core. Don't waste time, because 20 years fit badly into five days. And What happens if you click cancel.... before the download has finished? I'm so reluctant to leave. These days have been so easy and fun and blessed. Brotherhood is hard to find And when will I return? A red light shines through my window And appears on the wall across the room. It blinks yellow and moves as the people opposite Reverse from their drive And head off to work. The daylight outside is growing, The rumble in the air is not traffic But waves breaking on the shore About fifty meters away. Soon I'll get up, make tea And we'll all go for a walk. Me, my frind Toby, Pablo the happy staffie And Ava the lucky foster dog, Wandering care free along the beach as the waves break around our feet. A plane flies overhead. Taking the **** Okay I know! All things come to an end. And this too shall pass. It's just I haven't often wanted to stay this much. It's so fun here, And life outside can be a bit full on.
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53
My eyes click clacked To the cling clang Of a bottle of *** hitting marble Ava was sitting on the bar countertop The boy with the glasses Folded between her spider legs Their teeth like piano keys playing one another She ****** his shirt Red maraschino Pet his cheek with her smooth leather palm Stroked his hair with Comb fingers Bejeweled with silver rings She stretched out her vowels like taffy when she spoke Giggles stabbing themselves into the middle of her sentences. “I️ like the way wine makes me feel” She purred, Swishing the words around in her mouth before she chased them down with Pino Gris I’d never seen this version of Ava. Night velvet Black cat Skin sheets of raw silk. She was slippery and evasive, Like a mermaid Hiding behind her hair and her scales and champagne, Because Inside I️ knew She wished the boy With the glasses and the red shirt Was her Brooklyn boy So she kissed him with wine lips, The force of disappointment and pain
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Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 10:46 PM UTC
PORTS AND STORMS
AVA: drinking sriracha so that i can feel something GRACE: *** how'd it go AVA: not well GRACE: *** ava u liar u r practically a genius AVA: that's hilarious AVA: sayS THE GIRL IN GENIUS MATH GRACE: wish you were here AVA: what??? GRACE: nvm, ignore me GRACE: wrong person GRACE: i'm sure ur test went fine
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May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 3:54 PM UTC
a tragedy in text messages
This body is to narrow to start the concrete picturesque poetry As a marvelous bright sparkling spring into the pitch black marvel stone My poems are shallow water running out of time climbing backwards Shanti dances, Shakti watches, I ride the glossy magenta mountain byke Elementally through the potentially ***** city, gulping two little               flying                            spoons                      wwhhpp          mhm                                       of Brilliant        IO Ag                    Helth guarantieed on the nulth spelling positive not Obtrusive politely declined           skipped          suggestive Visually objective little pencil box down bellow                                              friend    _ this is blank ! Absolutely! Absoulutely! A ****** stream of no perservatives no *** Objecting flowery flunder opiates                           Words grow from Barriers between insufficient gestures                  from human Jazzy left ear leaving laments of sounds incapability to stay Endlessly entwined and glued together as your soul loves Tender tactile cats touch on your desperate desert sju++                   Ave Gratias Plena Ava Gardner Avon Avion   My throat is not of a managment made suits suiting suitcases I'm Tired Of Fraternities Or True Females  Always  Ends  Well
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Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 3:37 PM UTC
Magic You And The One World
This body is to narrow to start the concrete picturesque poetry As a marvelous bright sparkling spring into the pitch black marvel stone My poems are shallow water running out of time climbing backwards Shanti dances, Shakti watches, I ride the glossy magenta mountain byke Elementally through the potentially ***** city, gulping two little               flying                            spoons                      wwhhpp          mhm                                       of Brilliant        IO Ag                    Helth guarantieed on the nulth spelling positive not Obtrusive politely declined           skipped          suggestive Visually objective little pencil box down bellow                                              friend    _ this is blank ! Absolutely! Absoulutely! A ****** stream of no perservatives no *** Objecting flowery flunder opiates                           Words grow from Barriers between insufficient gestures                  from human Jazzy left ear leaving laments of sounds incapability to stay Endlessly entwined and glued together as your soul loves Tender tactile cats touch on your desperate desert sju++                   Ave Gratias Plena Ava Gardner Avon Avion   My throat is not of a managment made suits suiting suitcases I'm Tired Of Fraternities Or True Females  Always  Ends  Well
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20
Ava dwells on imperfections Wishing an iron could be made Perfect enough to smooth them out Ava dreams in seven colors If only to escape the void If only to dance freely for a while Ava doesn't flinch at the medication She curls a lip and smiles As she dangles feet in crystal waters Ava misses her auburn hair, But misses the salt of the ocean more The one place she calls home Ava possesses the courage Of armies ten thousand strong Yet, no one hears her battle cries Ava's heartbeat may finally cease Before sunrise, before breakfast But her love won't fade anytime soon .
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Apr 20, 2018
Apr 20, 2018 at 11:24 PM UTC
Ava
Standing beneath black skies' hush, cold rains' fall a stimulating touch bringing rise to forbearance forcing stormcells to pressured positions above our expanse. These words escape to nothing. Thick air mixed in with each vowel of smoke, straining to glimpse beyond those choked fragments. I caught your shadow skirting the edge of visions and slipping past my bounds. You were cloaked in millennia, time soaked from downpours seemingly lost of origins, be they long past or still forecast, you were, falling drops rolling from silken hair still bruised in memory, forgoing present presentation to reacquaint opportunity with overlooked encounters. Soaked to soul, the ripples spread quick stepping to the plane of... ...wait, where are you... when are we... ...will you be?.. ...or have we been lost in relativity and escaping in each word I breathe. Comprehension critical, compassionate clouds constantly reminding of drowning you out, professing this changing view in hallowed hurricane whispers. An angel you became, living upon these grounds your plague, living on, earthly existence anathema, each second foreword another progression of decreeing beating heart a final concerto, Ava Maria your soliloquy, serenading dreams in a missing tongue, with dying tone and a pulse set out for loan. Loneliness my investment, appreciating until the light was blinding, pain breaking anthems, scaling back to feed off what was left. I missed our true nature until it was reflex, illumination only brief glimpses of a passed future, grief developing to timelines sutures, bleeding blending was and has, with will be still the memory I'm forced to foresee. Broken in neutrality, droplets still caressing the shadow skirting the corner of my eye. Your life was short, I let us die far too young. Consider it your sacrifice, the reason for the crying clouds whose pain soothes these brainstorms vented through cigarette breaks wasted pouring words to howling winds.
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Aug 29, 2012
Aug 29, 2012 at 6:06 PM UTC
In the Storm of the Beholder
Standing beneath black skies' hush, cold rains' fall a stimulating touch bringing rise to forbearance forcing stormcells to pressured positions above our expanse. These words escape to nothing. Thick air mixed in with each vowel of smoke, straining to glimpse beyond those choked fragments. I caught your shadow skirting the edge of visions and slipping past my bounds. You were cloaked in millennia, time soaked from downpours seemingly lost of origins, be they long past or still forecast, you were, falling drops rolling from silken hair still bruised in memory, forgoing present presentation to reacquaint opportunity with overlooked encounters. Soaked to soul, the ripples spread quick stepping to the plane of... ...wait, where are you... when are we... ...will you be?.. ...or have we been lost in relativity and escaping in each word I breathe. Comprehension critical, compassionate clouds constantly reminding of drowning you out, professing this changing view in hallowed hurricane whispers. An angel you became, living upon these grounds your plague, living on, earthly existence anathema, each second foreword another progression of decreeing beating heart a final concerto, Ava Maria your soliloquy, serenading dreams in a missing tongue, with dying tone and a pulse set out for loan. Loneliness my investment, appreciating until the light was blinding, pain breaking anthems, scaling back to feed off what was left. I missed our true nature until it was reflex, illumination only brief glimpses of a passed future, grief developing to timelines sutures, bleeding blending was and has, with will be still the memory I'm forced to foresee. Broken in neutrality, droplets still caressing the shadow skirting the corner of my eye. Your life was short, I let us die far too young. Consider it your sacrifice, the reason for the crying clouds whose pain soothes these brainstorms vented through cigarette breaks wasted pouring words to howling winds.
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76
Would you be my Ava Gardner      When I submit myself to the darkness?          The madness of my own racing thought theatre                               In my mind My own sacred sanctuary                           lost      Somewhere between the ruminated past      And a catastrophized "way of the future" Where I presently react Would you ever bring me back?      Before bath times      And fetal positions Back into the arms      of infinity, space and all in between 'Cause all I feel is scared anymore Washing my mind clean with your cosmic touch      From a black hole back to star child  Whispering,        *You will emerge beyond The Phoenix and The Full Moon.                    Just rise, My Sun* Exploiting my inner madman       with all the right intentions Little death in the dark Reborn illuminated *Way of the future Way of the future Way of the future...*
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Jul 30, 2013
Jul 30, 2013 at 9:09 PM UTC
Nothing's Clean (Ava Gardner)
The storm in me Is the conflict you cant see Who i am, or am not Supposed to be The person i was, Because and should be Someone who was Smart and strong Needed and belonged Confident without hesitation A patriot of this great nation and A loyal friend If ever you needed one Today though some see me differently They say im a Disappointment with disabilities Slowly ruining a reputation A product of my environmental instabilities Falling short of an expectation But sometimes there's nothing you can do When life interferes with predesitination And redirects it down a path unsecurred and Opened to translation. Just as it did to me... Now everyday is exactly the same But completely different I wish I could explain. Who I was back then Came to his end that beautiful day in May And what was left is what is now A conflict that no one sees The Storm inside of me. AvA
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Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 11:30 PM UTC
The Storm In Me...
and this morning, like most, found you sprawled out taking 3/4s of the bed again. don’t get the wrong idea, I am not complaining. I’ll take a sliver at your side over mountains of blankets, pillows, alarm clocks and emptiness. you can tell my jealous mattress I prefer to sleep on your floor because 7 AM sunlight will never look as good as it does stretching over your bare ******* shoulders, belly. I lie with a thin sheet between my knees tucked between your legs and a curtained window. I think about kissing you but I’ll wait until the jade buried under your eyelids come to meet the morning on it’s own terms. until then…
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Sep 21, 2016
Sep 21, 2016 at 6:16 PM UTC
Ode to Ava’s Bed
one day everything falls apart. your hands and her promises and you heart. loving her turns into not sleeping. ever. that one day six months later when you finally saw her again and choking on not saying I love you before she left because you can't stand the thought of her not saying it back. the possibility. this ache. someone asks you what happened between the two of you and you say that even the continents came apart. they don't get it. you don't either. something breaks inside of you every time the wind blows and you smell her perfume. something harder than glass. they call this something hope. she knows where you live and she knows you never leave but she isn't coming back. make no mistake. there will be no surprise visits. no knock on your door at five a.m, no tear streaked hello's and no heartfelt I missed you's. no happy ending. no ending at all. just a belly full of whiskey and the last time she told you she loved you. her words feel like plagiarism in your ear. you wonder how her mother would feel about this. you wonder if her mother saw this coming a mile away. you wonder if her mother will always be right. you take another drink and wonder how this glass would sound as it breaks against your wall. the moment it leaves your hand you regret it. what a mess. all liquor and love sick and four a.m. the rorschach stains on this carpet from back when you were practicing for ava or evelyn or aiden. she picked the names. all the carpet cleaner in the world won't erase the memory. you wouldn't try even if it would. the empty chair theory doesn't soothe this broken heart of yours. nothing does. you pull another glass from the cupboard and see her lipstick stain on the edge. you imagine being small enough to jump from the top and landing hard enough to **** yourself but softly enough to not leave a stain. they would look at you and say, "I think this one was an accident." and they are wrong.
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May 27, 2016
May 27, 2016 at 3:25 PM UTC
practicing for ava
one day everything falls apart. your hands and her promises and you heart. loving her turns into not sleeping. ever. that one day six months later when you finally saw her again and choking on not saying I love you before she left because you can't stand the thought of her not saying it back. the possibility. this ache. someone asks you what happened between the two of you and you say that even the continents came apart. they don't get it. you don't either. something breaks inside of you every time the wind blows and you smell her perfume. something harder than glass. they call this something hope. she knows where you live and she knows you never leave but she isn't coming back. make no mistake. there will be no surprise visits. no knock on your door at five a.m, no tear streaked hello's and no heartfelt I missed you's. no happy ending. no ending at all. just a belly full of whiskey and the last time she told you she loved you. her words feel like plagiarism in your ear. you wonder how her mother would feel about this. you wonder if her mother saw this coming a mile away. you wonder if her mother will always be right. you take another drink and wonder how this glass would sound as it breaks against your wall. the moment it leaves your hand you regret it. what a mess. all liquor and love sick and four a.m. the rorschach stains on this carpet from back when you were practicing for ava or evelyn or aiden. she picked the names. all the carpet cleaner in the world won't erase the memory. you wouldn't try even if it would. the empty chair theory doesn't soothe this broken heart of yours. nothing does. you pull another glass from the cupboard and see her lipstick stain on the edge. you imagine being small enough to jump from the top and landing hard enough to **** yourself but softly enough to not leave a stain. they would look at you and say, "I think this one was an accident." and they are wrong.
Continue reading...
1
Sometimes I look at you and smile because I am so blessed. Even right now at a time when I am the most stressed. You come running while I'm in distress, you hug me, lay your head down with your ear to my heart and listen to that pitter patter in my my chest. You wiped aways the rivers of sadness that flows from my eyes. I Think God has sent you to me, my Angel in disguise. You are Such a beautiful Surprise! God knew Exactly what he was doing when he created you in my whom. Such a beautiful spiritual being that blossoms and blooms like flowers in the month of June. He knew just what to bless me with and How Amazingly to do it. You and I are a perfectly great fit. Because you and your brothers, I am a good mother and I cannot quit! I'm forever grateful for the pleasure of just knowing you. It's only been a year or two, so I Know This is just a Preview. I wouldn't have a clue, I honestly would be lost without you. But I want you to know no matter what, Mommy loves you Boo boo!
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Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 10:17 PM UTC
A poem for Ava
Miles and miles and miles away, is a big lovely place we like to play, we jump and bounce, we we spin and ponce, all in the middle row's house Daisy,Zack,Seb and Fi, we all wonder so dearly, how they are such a fabulous family, And we wonder in the middle row's house Meanwhile downstairs the adults are all fine until they start drinking sebastian's posh wine , suddenly everyones up and dancing, their all drunk and some are prancing, They drink in the middle rows house Upstairs the kids play and play Maybe they think it's the only way, say play Ava say play Everyone plays in the middle row's house WE ALL LOVE THE MIDDLE ROWS
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Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 9:43 AM UTC
The middle row's
When the rain touches my face It imitates my tears It hides all my distaste And all of my fears... It hides when I'm missing you And im feeling down Or when I'm sad and blue Cause you're not around... It hides whom I want no one to see.... Me. AvA
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Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 6:17 PM UTC
When the rain...
dear best friend, thank you to the one who made my depressing life 10 times better to the one who'd always listen to my endless rants to the one who always understood me to the one that i can talk to about anything to the one that became my best friend in less than a week to the one who accepted me thank you Deanna dear ex-best friend, thank you to the one who stabbed my back and taught me i shouldnt trust everyone to the one who made me let go the one i loved to the one who attempted to change me to the one who never loved me for me to the one one who ripped everything away from me to the one that i hate thank you ava
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Jun 6, 2018
Jun 6, 2018 at 3:57 PM UTC
friends
Her name is Ava, An autistic girl who just needs love, A beautiful angel sent to us, From almighty God, up above. She's in her own little world, That is far from here, What she doesn't know is that she's loved, An innocent girl who lives in fear. She may be aggressive at times, Disobey the rules and cry, But she can't help her actions, We can only hope and try. I can empathize with her, I can cry like her as well, But I will never see the world through Ava's eyes, A girl with much to tell.
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Jul 20, 2013
Jul 20, 2013 at 3:45 PM UTC
"Ava"
Ava holds me tight in her delicate skinny arms, And whisper perfectionin my ears. Ava comes to me at night, she fills me with dreams and leaves a kiss in my mind.    She breaks into pieces, like a flower loess its Patals as winter arrives. Lost I call out to her, not a whisper. Somewhere between obsession and perfection I lost control. All dreams were illusions, illusions which made me quietly bleed. And now I walk a blurry path unsure and lost, where the only exit is death . As I slowly dig my grave, I sit and watch time fly by, as my soul run away, my existence begs for redemption, begs  me not to give up, but I'm already far to gone. Ava penetrates your mind and controls your life. Ava is a liar
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Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 12:05 AM UTC
AVA