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We made wishes on dandelions

Tried to find images in the clouds

And at night

We rearranged the stars


Do you ever feel like

Broken glass

As if

The peices do not fit


What you see

Is distorted


Just is


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Tired of these four white walls suffocating me

Tired of this ceiling encaging me

I will break through this room and set myself free

Walls crumbling, windows crashing, ceiling clashing into the floor

Busting through and there will be wall no more

Tired of this patch of tile

Can’t wait to walk on grass

My feet are sinking, sticking, staying on the floor

Wish I could fly and not touch this tile anymore

I’m going to run out

I need to break through

To the other side, that’s where I’ll see you

Tired of all these walls


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Teach me how to embrace your lips

Don't lecture about social sciences

Instead conduct an experiment

Fit me into your equation

Help to find the critical value

Explore our correlation

Form a regression

Forget the intervening variable

Instruct me through a research examination

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It's actually rather brilliant the way he did it, as if we were pulled together by some universal bond.  

However, this reaction penetrated the series of walls I've carefully constructed.

He's shown me how to maintain bouyancy.


Showed I was a waste of matter, was comfortable floating.

Was once hot.

Then expanded to cool these particles.

We went out with a bang.

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I see him watching out of the corner of his eyes

The gentle stare that invites you in

I want to kiss him touch the corner of his mouth feel his lips pressed against mine then more within time

Even though we know each other it’s still as if we were strangers

And I know my wants are strange than fiction

The only thing that stands between us is this imaginary wall we can’t break through

The only thing that should be in this room is me and you

Over taken by the thought of him

Us alone that could be dangerous but I have a taste for danger

The only thing that stays between us are these seats

Binding us lining up every disc in are vertebrae making us stiff and numb

Emotionless unable to stand up

What lies between us is this floor

Unable to move our feet

This floor can destroy us this chair just annoys us this wall will fall and you and I will be left

Get ready and catch your breath

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maybe is false hope

maybe is a broken promise

instead of no

might be, we'll see, could be


statistics show

that maybe is linked to no

don't lie to me

simple question should be answered with a simple yes or no

not a maybe

don't beat around the bush

be blunt

don't be a maybe

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I imagine she's lovely

With long gold locks to her shoulders

And eyes as clear as the sky

With legs that float on sidewalks

And a sense of humor approved by your guys

She must own every room she walks in

She probably has a voice as soft as butter

That melts on any ear it touches

She must be cunning

But I'm a zero

With short hair as brown as the mudd you track

And my legs, well they make side walks crumble

While my eyes are indecisive when it comes to color

And my sense of humor is rather dry

I slip under the radar

My voice is robotic

Making the ears it lands on kick into overdrive

I stutter when I'm nervous

I'm far from perfect

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        Some lessons in life cannot be learned from a text book.  What I’ve learned about life I’ve learned from rowing.  It’s the start of the race and the coxswain controls the direction of the bow ball.  The current pushes me back as I wait for the regulator to yell, “Attention row”, on his megaphone.  I’m at the start of the stroke with my inside arm brushing against my knees, between my bent legs.  Then I jump off with my legs and feel the weight of the boat which makes the first couple of strokes the most difficult.  From a young age I was in and out of family court watching my parents fight for custody.  In a way the judge showed more compassion about the situation than my own parents.  I remember speaking to her and she kept reassuring me that the mess was not my fault.  She kept repeating in a soft voice, “Everything will be okay.”           

        I keep pushing off with my legs as hard and swiftly as possible to the finish of the stroke to feather.  Then I slowly come back up to the catch, pushing my arms away from my body, bringing my upper body over so as the oar passes over my knees and began to roll up to un-feather the oar.  I’m going against the current trying to pick up speed.  According to statistics, like my mom, I too should have been a teen mother and in a sense I was.  I cleaned the house, cooked dinner, and watched my brother and sisters while my mom was at work.  In a way, I was a parent to her as well.  I had to step in when her abusive relationship got out of control while stopping my siblings from seeing the violence.  It took me years to put things into perspective and to understand my mom.  She sacrificed her youth for her children and possibly more with the benefits of having another income being brought into the home.

       The boat builds up momentum.  The coxswain plays with the rope to move the tiller and it cuts through the water.  She is in complete control as the direction the vessel shifts.  The speed increases and the weight of the boat begins to decrease, making each stroke easier as I move with the rhythm of my seat.   The wheels start to move up the track effortlessly as the boat moves beneath me.  What happened in my past did not stop me from becoming the first person in my family to graduate High School with honors or being the first to go to college and stay.  There’s an underlying emotion of inferiority with each step.  All the pressures of home life began to fade.  The wind kisses my face as it dances through my hair.  I began to feel far less pressure as I jump off the foot stretchers with the strength I have left in my legs.  The wheels on the bottom of the seat move with no hesitation as the vessel races beneath my body.  The current is too weak to slow me down with the more strokes that I take.  The weightlessness, the jerking forward and the rhythmic motion does not tie me down.  The simplest feeling of all these factors makes it seem as if I’m defying gravity, as if I were flying over the water, against the current and through the wind.  The voices that told me I wasn’t good enough vanish.  I feel free

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                Down to my core I was infected before you.  Hearing your screams late at night made it impossible to sleep.  Watching you spend hours trying to cover up your black eye so you could survive another day at work.  Yet you still let him stay.  This is when the disease took its toll.  I wasn’t even eight years old when I started to decay.  You were so dependent on him or did you just want to be loved?  It’s pathetic how he’d come crawling back.  In a short amount of time evolution came to play.  His back straightened out and one foot followed another as you followed him town to town.  His hand still not let down.  This is when my plague peeked. You chose him over me.

                The disease took over.  I couldn’t control my speech.  I spoke my mind mom, I wasn’t happy.  I tried to fight it.  I kept bitting my tounge, forgetting to think before I speak.  But your words were no remedy.  At this point there was no cure.  I need you to feel how I felt.  A choking when you cry, suffocation when being hugged, to feel nothing around the person you love.  I had succeeded.  You say I’m a virus that makes you sick, but I’m more than that.  I’m crawling inside your head, borrowing inside your brain.  I’m the last thought you have before you drift to sleep and that slowly kills you inside, doesn’t it, the fact that you can’t control me. 

                Your eldest daughter



                I will always love you.




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Why couldn't you just love me

I hoped I was what you wanted me to be

You told me you were sorry

And my reply wasn’t sincere

Then you told me the two of you weren’t working out

And your voice is all I hear

I wait at the door hoping you would come through

But the only time I see you is when I don’t want to

I don’t want to believe them but the rumors are true

And I have many regrets but never the day I met you

I want to believe you when you say those three small words

Even though I know it’s a beautiful lie

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You draw a map

Of my body with your hands

I nibble on your bottom lip

Bite into a Sunday school apple

You undress me

Raking autumn leaves

Cold sheets pressed against my back

Making angels in the snow

An ocean of pleasure

Summer waves that rush the shore

I feel you swelling

An expanding canal after the rain

Brush my nose against your cheek to meet the small hairs sprouting

Dew in the evening

Arm stretching across my chest, hand embracing my breast

My fingers dance through your curls

Hated haircuts

Listen to your breath

Swimming in shallow lake

Feel the pounding of your encaged heart resting under my head

Playing with sand


Dusty toys in the attic


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This could be dangerous

nothing to claim



Creeping up

want him so bad

In a different way



Call me heartless

He gets jealous

Young and allowed to be reckless

All I know is

This could be dangerous

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