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About Literature / Hobbyist EmilyFemale/United States Group :iconcalling-all-poetry: Calling-All-Poetry
 
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Emily
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
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20 deviations
My boyfriend watched, open mouthed
as I unscrewed the lid of your urn,
and ran my fingers through your ashes.
Your depression, your soul dust.
I felt an ocean rolling under my ribs
and an urge to cradle your urn,
rock you back and forth
like you did for me when I was young.
-
At the funeral, my uncle announced
that you hated religion.
But he left out the part
where you did believe in a God,
just that he was always punishing you.
-
“There was nothing you could have done”
said the other uncle.
I think of all those spent wishes,
the birthday candles extinguished for gifts,
the meteor showers I wasted on love,
the prayers offered from family friends
that are now given a little too late.
-
This year, I turn 22 years old.
But when I blow out the candles,
my wish won’t matter.
None of them did.
One, two, three
My birthday was actually a couple days ago.

I feel empty.

Edit 1/8/2015: Thank you so much for the DD. I wrote this shortly after my father passed away on New Year's two years ago. He ended his own life after a long battle with depression and being diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease. Ever since, I have been struggling to process my feelings about this event - and I will be for a very long time. He was my favorite person in the entire world. He was incredibly funny, intelligent, sarcastic, as well as gifted machinist and an amazing storyteller. Although he was battling his own inner demons, he constantly made others laugh and was always willing to lend a hand. The word was a better place with him in it. I miss him every day.
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You were still alive when I started this poem.
Maybe Newport's walls couldn't hold you in after all,
Maybe running away from home is the only way back.

I spend every summer looking for you in the sky,
between the blurred bokeh of carnival lights
and the blasts of mortars. 
Nothing but smoke.

I hang on to that last week in August like a promise.
Maybe in the crowd of two hundred thousand,
your face would flicker in the dark
before disappearing altogether. 

But after the bright lights burst, 
all we are left with is blue bruising into orange
and the fade of sulfur in the air.

After it's  over,
all that we have
are the ashes in our palms.

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:iconbloodshotink:
BloodshotInk Featured By Owner 22 hours ago
:love: Thanks for watching me!
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:iconshadowisstillalive:
ShadowIsStillAlive Featured By Owner Jan 24, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks for the badge!
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:iconpennymae:
PennyMae Featured By Owner Jan 15, 2015
Thanks for the llama :la:
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:iconsuperdemon-inuyasha:
Superdemon-Inuyasha Featured By Owner Jan 14, 2015  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Thanks for the llama! ;w; :hug: :glomp:
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:iconthesoundtechie:
TheSoundTechie Featured By Owner Edited Jan 14, 2015  Student Artist
Thanks for the :llama:!
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