Pink

You don’t write to me

or give me the slightest chance

but I thought I saw a trust in you…

You told me a few of your secrets,

for the briefest of moments

though I only saw them by page…

I see all your regrets

when you’re confused or upset

you use me when you need me,

or else you leave me in the unzipped case



I’ve heard you say you wish I could do more

erase some memories, 

or some decisions you might’ve made

I desperately wish I could



I long to do more than allow you a second chance 

to spell that word you keep forgetting
“i before e,”
I’ll whisper



I’ll keep reminding you as long as you need, 

until I’m nothing more than pink, rubber shavings

that you blow off your desk

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*to be titled later*

An offer to smile yet again, 

Oh, it’s been too long

An offer to dream a tale so simple,

I’d notice nothing to be gone
It’d make sense to say no
To hold on to this intricate mind,

But what if this, the one I bear,
Should be left behind?
Selling the soul for eternal rest

Could be an awful price to pay,

But nature’s pains and the constant whispers

Might already have their say

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deep inside a runner’s heart, there’ll always be the thirst for first
no matter how close
seconds good, hey, thirteenth is fine!
but we all want a gift
one given to few
no matter what you say, i’m wishing i was extraordinary

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i haven’t had …

i haven’t had inspiration in months…

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February remains bittersweet in this town of trees and weeds
Spring is shuttering and winter’s goodbyes are hard to bear
My sense of direction feels flawed, and forward is in my nightmares
Months of cold, I don’t know if I want to go back
The light blinds my troubled eyes, no glasses could repair

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the girl

she ties her hair with ribbons
and polishes her smile twice
she licks a stamp and sends her love,
makes cookies of sugar and spice

she takes her steps so carefully,
looks back to reassure
she tells the sun her secrets
and is always wanting more

she plants her hope with daisies
and finds only sorrow in the season
she plays songs of soft, sweet melodies,
searching for a reason

she thought to breathe, it was a burden
though she had to know the rhythm
she stayed alone for days to think
and her patience began to dim

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dear bipolar,

please stop. no one knows what’s even going on because of you. i thought i loved him…

sincerely, tired of being confused

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