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A Fire In the SkyThe sky was on fire, or so thought Lily. At six, she didn't know any better. She thought that the sun set the trees on fire, and the blues and purples from the sunset were from when the firemen put the fire out. That's why it got so dark. The water flooded the sky and made it black, and when it wasn't completely black it was because the lights from the near by cities were reflecting onto the water in the sky. The stars, the stars were Lily's favorite thin in the sky. She loved how tiny they were and how small they were , just like her. Every night before bed, she'd ask her mother to watch the fire in the sky, and then she'd fall asleep to counting the stars in the sky. When she woke up, she'd eagerly await the fire in the sky's again. Every day the fire in the sky was her way of knowing it was time to sleep.
As Lily grew up she started to stop that tradition, but the time she was thirteen she no longer wanted to watch the fire in the sky. She thought it was beautiful of course, but she
It's WeirdIt's weird to have to start from the beginning again.
It's weird to worry if I'm wasting time,
investing it in a certain someone.
It's weird to think that someone else likes me
and that they enjoy my company.
It's weird to be in a long hug,
and it being a different person.
It's weird to think that I may kiss someone else
that isn't my ex.
It's weird to get butterflies in my stomach
and want to skip around
just because he stopped at my room and said hi
or paused his game to devote some time to me.
It's weird to be able to sit in a room
or lay on the floor
and just talk
and do nothing else.
It's weird to think that I may be in a relationship with someone
that's not my ex.
It's weird to think that I could be just dating for fun
and not to get married.
It's weird to think that I'm happy.
In The MorningSometimes I wake up in the morning
and I hate you.
I hate you so much
I want to destroy everything related to you
anything about you
I hate you.
And then after I'm up for a bit
and I find that the world is good
and not bad
I miss you
I miss you intensely and insanely.
I start to hate not talking to you
I hate the silence
I hate the box I'm in.
But the main part that I realize
I hate you because I miss you.
Through VeinsMemories of me and you
they run through my mind
like a drug runs through the veins of a druggie.
I can't get enough of them
I can't get away from them.
Our connection is breaking up
and I want to grab onto power lines
just to feel if I can feel a shock.
Because I can't feel you there
I can't feel me here.
I'm losing you while losing me.
I didn't realize you really were the definition
of what made me happy
and now you've turned that happiness
into my worst misery.
ViolinI remember the day
you told me violins
were strung with cat gut
and that is why
you hated music
(who says that to a child?)
I followed you
all that summer.
I watched you
grow away from mother -
your whiskey held better conversations
and all she did was cry.
We'd sit cross-legged on the porch
and count the horseflies
settling on our lunch.
You would drown tadpoles
in a bucket
surprised they could not swim
and I would dream
of cherry popsicles.
And when night would gather
on the sidewalk
I'd hold my breath
until a star appeared.
Don't bother making wishes
you'd tell me -
stars are dead weight in heaven
and God has cloth ears.
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