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"Poisonous" -kaitlyn warnken

I live in a grey and white world were i dont always get to see the sun, so I was in The flower garden.
In the garden, I noticed a flower from the distance that was full of color that I couldve never see before. A color your reality would call pink.
Oh how it was a poisonis flower, but to me this flower was beautiful.
I wanted to take it home all for myself. It showed me things i could never see before. I wanted to watch this flower grow. I needed colors and I learned that day that my love for pink was strong which soon became my only and favorite color. I like all flowers, but only I could see the pink in this flower. to the sky I wish all flowers could be pink, but in a world grey and white.. One was a miracle.
Oh how I loved this flower.
But Momma always told me not to pick the pretty flowers... Because They would die...
And daddy always told me to stay away from poisonis things becausw I would get hurt...
But in my world grey and white, I didn't want to leave the only thing that could bring color into my life, the only color I could see. So I sheltered the flower... And ate their leaves the leaves the flower gave to me.
Oh what a poisonis flower...
...Oh what a poisonis flower...

'I think I'm awake now. Ive never seen a place like this before were Everythings colorful.
Why am i grey?
Am i going insane?
Where is my flower?
Where is my flower?
Where is my flower...?

I didn't understand what was going on.
This flower gave me color and I just wanted to have my flower back.. I Dropped to my knees and cried in the green grass and asked the sky with a tear in my eye..

"How could somewhere so beautiful feel so ugly without my flower?..."

Im so grey. It didn't matter if the world saw color anymore... In my eyes it didnt matter anymore.
Nothing mattered anymore. My life faded black and I just wanted to wake up.
I felt like i was dreaming.'

I could feel the poison leaving my body and by this point I woke up.
When I opened my blood shot red eyes and lifted my sore body... I could see my flower.
I looked at myself and I was full of color!
I was pink! Just like my flower!.
I thaught, 'Oh what a poisonis flower
I do not authorize the duplication of this poems, photos, writtings, or any personal information.
If any questions conserning, or about this poem or my page you mat contact me.
alex martinez Jun 2015
when i met you, i thought you were good.

it was the summer before my freshman year and i was spending a lot of time at memorial park, because i could walk there from two different houses and still find somewhere to stay for awhile. i liked to sit under the tree and read, or just people watch, because i felt almost exactly like a ghost. neither here nor there, yet somewhere in between.

i can almost remember all the details if i lay in bed and think hard enough. a greyish umbrella. a mangy puppy. and a copy of a book which i eventually grew to hate (the picture of dorian grey.) those are the only details im entirely sure of time after time without fail. i had been reading the book under my tree, and it started to rain. i remember getting up to go into the library for awhile when everything happened.

i could hear someone screaming, calling out a name, and then i saw you running down the hill towards me. you were such a scene kid now that i think of it. i could see the panic in your eyes, and i guess you could tell, because of all the people in that park, you came to me. i wish now i had looked away like everyone else.

in half sentences and stammering cries you told me all about how you had been walking your puppy and he had gotten away. you were worried because the park was substantially big and he was not. i was nervous to help you, but like i said, i thought you were good. and so i got under your umbrella and we started walking.

we walked around calling for him for about thirty minutes, looking under the bridge, in the trees, even down the streets. there was no sight of him. you were handling it surprisingly well though, asking me questions about myself as we got to know each other. eventually, i suggested that we just make lost posters and then come back. you got nervous, and i just thought you didn't want me in your house, so i offered to stay outside. you reluctantly agreed, and led me towards your house. i still pass by it sometimes. you aren't there anymore, and the family inside seem nicer.

when we got to your house you got quiet. you had been talking the entire trip and now you just suddenly seemed to clam up. you avoided my eyes when you ran inside and i felt myself getting very confused
when you didn't come out immediately i sat down on your curb. when thirty minutes passed i knocked, and when an hour came and went i figured you were inside crying and didn't want to be bothered. i knocked one more time before starting home.

i was halfway down the road and, admittedly, thinking about you when i heard the patter of feet. i stepped to the side to let the person pass and saw that it was you. in your hands was a mangy puppy. while you fidgeted you told me how you had lied and how you're puppy was okay and that you were sorry but you wanted to meet me. i should've known them you were bad, just based off of how well you had lied. but i was 14, and you were cute, and i was flattered.

from that day on we pretty much hung out every day during summer. i learned so mucb about you, and some of the things you told me scared me. you were 16. i was 14. i didn't know. i didn't need to know. it started out with innocent secrets, just things like first boyfriends and girlfriends and stuff like that. you made fun of me when i told you i hadn't had my first kiss, and then you were my first kiss. you told me where to place my hands while i kissed a girl and what was okay and what was not. you were a lot of firsts for me that summer, and a lot of firsts after.

school started and it was hard to see each other, but we still talked almost nightly. my mom was getting mad becausw i texted too much and when i got my phone taken away for the first time i was worried. i didn't talk to you for three days. in that time you sent me 1000+ messages and blew up my myspace account, along with about 37 missed calls and a voicemail full of you crying. i didn't know what was wrong so i ditched track and went to your house to see if you were okay. i wish i had just cut you off then sometimes.

when you opened the door that afternoon you were wearing a long sleeve and your eyes were puffy. you hugged me tight and cried, and let me into your house. we layed on your bed and listened to music while you occasionally cried, and when you leaned over to kiss me i accidentally touched your wrist. you pulled away from me and i felt bad so i offered to leave.

when you told me you had done a bad thing, i thought you meant like stealing money or letting your dog mischa out. i didn't know what you were about to show me. i still remember how raw and red your wrists looked, and how much i wanted to cry but couldn't stand to see. i didn't know what self harm was. I WAS 14. you cried again and told me i couldn't leave you again, and i apologized for being grounded. you kissed me again, but harder, and then took off your sweatshirt and bra. i didn't know what else to do, but it seemed okay because you wanted it. i don't feel like talking about the rest.

that's how things were for awhile. you and i spoke every night, and hung out a lot, but you didn't want to be chained to me. sometimes when we hung out you would tell me about some guy you had wanted to **** but didn't, or how you had gotten drunk and almost hooked up. i never believed you, so i took to beating on walls and keeping quiet. i think i might have loved you too much to see that you were ******, which in itself is pretty ******. but i wasn't allowed to leave you. until the night you decided you would try and leave yourself.

i had just left your house and i felt strange. the air was thick and heavy and i felt something. i went home, and ate, and i probably called about a dozen times in the span of an hour because you weren't answering. i convinced myself you had gone out to a party, and tried to sleep. i didn't talk to you again for two months.

the first month was really ******* me, but i was starting to accept that you had moved on when your name danced across my screen for the first time in weeks. you asked me to come over, and so i did. when you opened up the door, you were wearing a sweater again. i knew what it meant, so i didn't ask. we sat on your couch and watched tv half heartedly when you told me you had tried to **** yourself. i didn't know what was going on, so i just sat there quietly. you talked and talked and talked, and i didn't know what to do. eventually, you looked at me and said "but it's okay now. you're here." and so we watched tv and kissed and i felt heavy. heavy. heavy.

and that's how it went for a few years, until you moved away or stopped talking to me for a few weeks, only to show up whenever you wanted and leave in the same way. it's so ******. i still remember the last time we talked a few months back.

we had gotten to the point where we were almost friendly, friendly enough to talk about our lives. i told you about my significant other and how i knew that i was in love with her, and although things were occasionally hard she was worth it and more. i was happy until you asked me quietly if you had been worth it. you asked if i know how much i meant to you.

you were asking me to tell you how you felt about me when even you didn't know. it was like handing someone a book with no ending and expecting the reader to just know that everything was okay. but sometimes things aren't okay, and the people you plan on marrying are already on the highway looking for the nearest exit.

i stayed quiet, suffocating under the pressure of your question. you cried a little, and yelled a lot, and then proceeded to try and destroy me the way you were good at, with lies and angry words and accusations of never being there. but i was too tired so i stayed quiet. eventually i heard you whisper good bye, followed by the line going dead. i hadn't heard from you since.

i blocked your number. i threw away your things. i started to forget you. and things started to be okay. i didn't think about you until today.

but today i got a phone call, from a number i didn't recognize. and because i wasn't thinking of you i answered. no words. no anything. just silence followed by the line disconnecting.

and i started to feel bad

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