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We Don't

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Below is the poem entitled We Don't which was written by poet Erica Szabo. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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We Don't

We don’t talk no more
Were not friends
And you don’t want me
Not in this life or the next
Say I’m to butch for you
I don’t see how
When I do all the things you like
You use to call me to your bead
A usage I could take
But now you don’t even beckon me to eat
Breakfasts lunch and dinner
And I don’t know how to approach you in this state
When I know you don’t even want to see my face no more
I’m a bad person
A ***** that lies too much
And yell to loud all filled up with anger then and now
Because I only told you once that I wanted you
And you told me you did not want a relationship
So why bet a dead hours
It won’t get up to let you ride
Dead is dead
And life is breath
Yet I can’t breathe when I’m around you or away
I guess this is how Zombies feel
I’m living in the cracks of to day and tomorrow
I’m a bad friend
A ***** that lies and yells to much
I’m always angry 
And it radiates off on to you
A heater in summer days you can never turn off
And you can’t deal with this heat
Just two people trying to be whole
And two puzzle pieces that don’t match 
Can’t be smashed together
I’m to proud to beg you back
Yet if I did
Got on my knees and kissed your feet
I don’t think it would get me any were
You have heard all but this one
The only one who has read them all
But you will never read these words
That are rushing out like vomit
And I don’t know how to handle 
Seeing your face every day
I want to touch you
Hold your hand because I’m sad
I can’t seem to let things go
I ****ed up and I know
But the secrets that we shear
I do keep
A keeper of so many keys
Yet not one that will open the door to you
A Stone Butch Blue 
I could never warm
I miss you now
And you miss how I use to be
Ask what I want from you
Dead is dead
And a Zombie friendship will never raise agene
So why do I let you flout in my mind
I want to beery this friendship
Like you beery the dead
Yet I can’t lift the shovel to start
The cryptic hole to beery your soul
Or maybe it’s my soul I wish to beery
But no one can lend a hand
When suicide 
Had her legs splayed out wide

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