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#4 |
living
Join Date: Jan 2013
Posts: 3,485
Battle Record: 33-18
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Alyssa -
i remember you well. you're a headrush, a high oily blonde, skin dry, bleach white. dusk in July we met between classrooms, disenchanted goodbyes and degenerate friends with whom we identified you triple layered mascara. Madam Raccoon in disguise i would tease you, only wishing to look into your eyes blue as the sky. translucent, dilated, foolish, misguided your green thumb. roses bloody red. mushrooms psilocybin love without a name for it. 16 with a license we'd park the car just to kiss and smoke in comfortable silence. perfume violet. sweet like stevia. compassionate victim of your scent. a memoir slave to my olfactory system you made decisions. i listened. we bonded over addiction choking out sentences. breathing boa constricted when smoking sections existed. before camels were blue empty parking lots and alleys after classes were through candlelight between us. bread and water and time your stare was Gemini. i don't remember your sign but i remember you well. scarred, resentful and wise often resigned. so much to hide. your smile would kill me inside but i obliged. an ex-boyfriend who committed suicide was the root of all your pain. the catalyst for you and I you would cry. flick your lighter. whisper under your breath shoot yourself with opioids and razor your flesh run into the bathroom. i would ask for the check come back. adjust your bandages. as numb as it gets before money or debt. landlords, mortgage and rent corpses and death were a condition of your company kept you read Kerouac at 12. Richard Brautigan next Vonnegut texts at home. a Honda full of Chomsky cassettes bourgeois intellectual. Kafka, coffee and toast ballet class at 7 is when she started to smoke, she says her confidence rose - no appetite, so light on her toes quit at 9 until she found a body. naked and cold with a note on the sink. lined paper, sharpie in bold bathwater rosy red like the garden she grows. you told me once, it's ritual. there's prayer in the smoke i'm with you always. waiting while you're chasing a ghost i remember you so well. O, morose valentine i want to thank you. thank you, cause you tried i can't forget you. i'm sorry. god, i hope you're alive even though i couldn't let you let me die. DEADMAN
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Zack Wicks for president |
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