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 Apr 2016 Isabella Rosemary
js
The problem with money & drugs is there's never
enough.

Too much is not enough.
Too little is not enough.

I have a problem —
money & drugs

but
my real problem isn't
money & drugs, or
too much and
not enough,

they just keep my mind from
the 'problem' that is

me.
 Apr 2016 Isabella Rosemary
april
i am dying to know if you still have the tiniest bit of feelings for her;
so i can finally live
to tell the tale
of "the girl who loved a boy"
wait no –
**"the girl who loved a boy who loved another"
 Apr 2016 Isabella Rosemary
Lunar
I missed him not in raindrops,
But in roaring tidal waves.
We were wild.

I missed him not in breezes,
But in dizzy hurricanes.
We were crazy.

I missed him not in a bouquet,
But in a maze of flower gardens.
We were lost.

I missed him not in a cloud,
But in the heavens above.
We were ethereal.

I missed him not in a rain puddle,
But in the lakes and seas.
We were deep.

I missed him not in the new world,
But in historical lands.
And up to this day, it's still the same,
We are classic.
To Karen: the first hansol poem I've ever written goes to you. Protect him, he's a classic keeper.
Beyond these unyielding doubts
cast upon me like rust-splintered chains
haunting my every thought
my every breath
there is reason
for my existence
the strength of which carries me beyond the fog
from which these chains are cast

there is purpose in my struggle
a light that burns unrelenting
searching the summits
riding the storms to their end
darkness be ******
the rain and wind of change
only serve to make me stronger
more determined
to write these thoughts
that lay in waiting
for those willing

I remain a poet
in this age of the dying word
 Apr 2016 Isabella Rosemary
Farah
I wake up on your side of the bed
cold, without you to bring sunlight
to dandelion bones, shaken by the
violent winds
and dimmed stars that sew our
eyes shut, together and then apart
like children on swing sets
on a warm summer night.

blow these dandelion bones far
apart and into the sky
till I’m void of anything but
battered skin and galaxy bruises
till I’m nothing but
everything.
I think my lips are chapped because I've kissed so many boys who don't love me.
You ask me 'what do you taste like?' I don't think its very **** to say regret and sadness.
You say 'when can I taste you' My taste has been passed around so many tongues there is nothing left for you.

He tells me 'I'm here for you, I'll always be here for you' as he kisses my neck. The next week the bite mark on my belly is fading and I can barely remember the colour of your eyes.

My sister says 'you will change your mind' she says, 'all woman want to be mothers'.
I have stumbled in at 4am with the taste of strangers in my throat to see my mother sitting upright waiting for me, I think of the night I spent crying on my mothers lap in a&e;, certain I couldn't make it through the day, the way my brother scowls at my mother, my sister telling her that 'you could've done more, you could've walked away.' I. Dont. Want. Children.

My mum tells me she is old, she is tired. She desperately needs a man to hold doors open for her and carry her shopping. I am trying to remember that needing someone does not mean you are weak.

My grandmother gave me waist beads to encourage fertility. She says 'god gave you those hips to birth children'. Ive never told her that i lost my faith in god the year i lost my virginity.  And if there is a god, i don't want his ******* fertility. I want to break these beads and let drugs engulf me to prove my grandmothers blind faith wrong.
I laugh and pray before our meal and kiss her forehead, 'god bless'.

He tells me 'i know youre *****, its natural'. I laugh and play along for his delight. 'women are just like toys, television, easy puzzles'. I think of my father beating my mother, my fathers face all the men ive walked past in the street. My mothers face is my own.

'if you don't want boys to touch you you shouldn't wear tight clothes'. I think of all the boys who have run their fingers over my back when i was dressed in clothes from neck to ankle. I wonder if god is a sexist man. I wonder if there's any men who aren't implicitly sexist.

He tells me, 'I'll spend hours on you, I'll make you believe in god again'. There is nothing I can do but laugh. I ask him, 'does your mother know you speak to girls like this?'
He ***** his teeth, 'do you always have to be so difficult?'  
I kiss him but I think of his mother, foreign and lonely, 2 sons and no husband.

He says 'you need a real man' I think of all the other boys who have told me that before leaving me.
He wants to know why I'm in hospital so much, 'how are we going love each other when you can't tell me what's wrong with you' I don't want to tell him that I've cut my arms so badly I can see god in my blood, and sometimes the voice in my head screams so loud I black out. I kiss his chest. He doesn't ask again. I resent him for that.

I've been ignoring my fathers phone calls for two weeks because his voice sounds like absence and I don't want to hear another 'I love you' from a man who doesn't know my secrets.
I used to flip through my pages
        Scanning
There were some interesting points
  Some high, some low, some kind of just sitting in-between after the good and the bad cancelled each other out, but mostly I
       Skimmed by,

         Until I met you,

                 You can't be summed up, there's too much to you, you're too rich, too deep
Too interesting to be confined to a few measly paragraphs and sped-read through

     You deserve attention, you deserve time,

       And the more I've gotten to know you, the more I realize you're the entire book, the entire story in beautiful, vivid detail.

                *I'm going to take my time getting to the end of you, and I dog-eared the page where you entered my heart, so that if I ever forget how it feels to fall for you, I can go back to the start
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