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  • Writer's pictureEmily Louise Perkins

when I was seventeen my friend died with my poem in his wallet

and then the sun set for me and God was there

he'd painted the sky so pretty for me

and then Cat Stevens wrote me a whole album

he told me about what to do if I lose my eyes

and now I like how my basil reaches up towards me when watered

like a human when kissed for a long time

give everything away! Your whole heart!

  • Writer's pictureEmily Louise Perkins

The Rest of Us 

I refuse to be intimidated by your fierce intellect I admire it sure 

You always spell correctly 

You can tell a good poem from a bad one 

you can write your own brilliant tender

that good punctuation 

that opinion on 

It is not a cry for help it is a loud characteristic 

It is a cry We cry! 

No one wants words in the trenches 

we will take them sure 

but only to bring us closer to a steady heart steady breath steadfastness or just trust 

we want eyes we want touch mouth to mouth

we want someone to break through our sternum with their fist and protect our heart, lungs and major blood vessels from injury with their selflessness that’s how we’ll know they’re true 

we want their hand to ease it all in there somehow 

Can you write about that for me but more elegantly but then can you actually be there for me when I fail? 

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