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I’ve always had the narcissistic belief
that I deserved poetry
but I’m starting to realize
that us who live in words
fall for the purity of actions
Silently and scrupulously looking at my dad for a minute, I asked,
"What is it like to get old?"
He turned his attention away from the computer screen
Met my gaze
Took a deep breath in, and began,

"You don't realize just how fast life goes by, until it's gone.
One day, you look in the mirror, and realize that twenty years have gone by.
It's a different person in the mirror than what you expected.
Some days, I look at your mother
And it feels like I've only known her for a few months.
Other days I look at her, and she's just so different from the woman I met.
We've grown and changed so much together.
I am, to this day, learning new things about her,
And all of them make me love her more.
Yeah, she can't cook for ****, and she talks in tangential circles
Which I just can't keep up with.
But since day one I was smitten with her.
And to this day I'm surprised that she actually chose
To spend the rest of her life with me.
Getting old with the right person makes getting old bearable."
Whenever somebody would ask my mother how her day was, she would respond,
"Getting better, just like fine wine."
Now I know why.
I saw you this morning,
You made me weak at the knees
Next time I'll brace myself
For when your smile breaks my heart
I was dreaming of a girl I know, and I woke up with these words barely lingering on my lips. I'm glad I could get them written down.
I long to be the story that's told by the curve of your lips. The afternoon glow that meets your tired eyes on Sunday afternoon. To discover 4am alongside your musings. I swear the roses in your cheeks could rival the sunset. I thought of spending such a twilight in your arms, and that was bliss.
pale indian pride flushes my lies,
burned lips of wine staining kisses
no blemish makes less,
my molded science stitches,
that loves needle sowed into itches.
Now an ache a need a hole to be filled
that i wish my heart could mend.
Bleeding out to reach the color of desire
that only you could start the fire.
It spreads in the Blue veins tattooing
your own threaded pain.
that's when you know your mine forever.
frustration
to say the least
to say the most
my thoughts have ceased
to make sense at all
you dropped your responsibility
of standing by my side
I have no concept
of what sprints through your mind

its not me

it never will be

at least not how
all the poets made me dream
//

Burning
out brighter than the rest.

Trying
hard but it ain't my best.

Dying
may hurt but I'll finally get some sleep.

Wishing
on a group full of stars.

Clearing
my mind, my soul, my heart, my palms.

Piercing
skin.

Destroying
all in my life that is beautiful.
If I write a beautiful essay I must burn it.
If I continue to do so I must chop off my hand.
If I have a beautiful friendship I must end it.
If I have a good looking haircut I must ruin it.
If I'm getting good grades I must ditch.
If my parents start to trust me I must sneak out.
If I start to sober up I must drink mouthwash.
If I start to love myself I better **** up more gloriously than all before me.
Sadness is a razor
Uncertanty marks my arms
Dissapointment carved my thighs
But the crimson is so beautiful
When all you want is to die

My arms cry for a breakup
My legs for being unwanted
New skin where the old used to be
Your body is now haunted

But the scars have a certain beauty
Be it from razor, needle, or knife
They show that you were strong enough
To not give up on life
my angel in red
Let's sing along
to songs only we know
I'll kiss your scars
we can smoke and read Thoreau
until we've forgotten time
and slipped under the moon's glow
my angel in red
you can stop the show
now we're alone
you were a missing thread
in my story
read and reread
trying to comprehend
what I was missing
my angel in red
welcome home
For Alexis
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