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anjelica

i change the pronouns

in my poetry

from me

to she

and no

do not be mistaken

i am not her

and she is not me

i do not know this lost girl

yet I do understand her

i have dreams of her

she has eyes that scream

with bags sinking beneath

plump with everything

that she

hides

her hair is unkempt and wild

she tells me her only goal

is to finally be as free and wild

as the drooping loops

her skin is porcelain

and i fear that i might drop her

that my rough touch will not soothe

and that she will break

her cracked lips part

and she says her name is

anjelica

a pretty name

yet seemingly

too clean for the broken doll

bruise is a pretty shade on her

she has red scars

that chase the dip of her back

and

her voice fills any empty room

as though she is

fighting for a place to speak

as though she is

fighting the silence

i walked slowly and uncertainly

to her room

my feet moving out of instinct

dancing along a cobblestone path

with white cherry blossom petals

scattered like my rambling thoughts

i reach her door

and place a shaking hand on the knob

twist it and pull it open

moving slowly and cautiously

as not to wake her up

but i am afraid that

she looks even more

damaged

when she is asleep

i reach my arm over her

and she stirs

her stained mattress heaves

as though it’s carrying

a burden much heavier than she

her eyelids blink open

and her cracked lips part

as she asks if I’m here for cigarettes

i apologize repetitively

quietly

softly

because i am scared of anger

and she says it’s okay

and that she understands

but darling i do not think

your mind could comprehend

how i need them

how i need them to breathe

how they are the air that i breathe

how i breathe them much more simply

i leave with the cigarettes

tucked in my dress

a burn in my hand

and i leave

my dear anjelica behind

to the destruction of her dreams

and i must confess

i am haunted by memories

and i hoped she held the key

i changed the pronouns in my poetry

from me to she

and i swear they are not about me

but i see myself scrawled in the ink

4/1/17

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6 Comments

  1. i read “and place a shaking hand on the noob” and that was funny af… xD

    but anyway, you know I absolutely love this one.. there’s always a sense of randomness in your work, but nothing’s really random in life, so all these thoughts are actually connected in strange ways, and you always make it sound great & kind of.. fascinating.. amusing.. attractive.. pick any of those.. or all of them 😀

    • Lmao that is pretty funny, but thanks noob i appreciate zee comments

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