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Lucy Lovett Poem
It's her stupid red shoes,
they make me miss her even more
she'd call me at 9,
she'd want me to come lay under the stars with her
we'd pick out constellations,
naming them after people we once knew
but all i'll hear now is the reminiscence of her
voice over that awkward dial tone
& i'd tell her to find the same star i'm looking at,
as long as that star was still there, we'd be happy
i left monday, i left for good
now all i get is phone calls,
its been weeks,
and weeks,
since that last call
that star burnt out last night
well i got a call,
she killed herself.
Copyright © Lucy Lovett | Year Posted 2008
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Lucy Lovett Poem
Goodnight
he says
click of phones,
awkward dial tones
you sit to catch your breath
back to the floor
your hand to the door
lights off,
the moon blooms through your window
catching a glimpse of a smile
one missed call,
he misses you.
Copyright © Lucy Lovett | Year Posted 2008
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Lucy Lovett Poem
Now that its June,
we'll sleep in the garden
soak into the dirt,
down into the underground,
to sleep with the dead
our bodies filled with maggots
decomposing
under the sullen sun
pushing daises
its a new morning,
soil in your mouth
dirt in my lungs
should we awaken?
now that its June,
June on the west coast.
Copyright © Lucy Lovett | Year Posted 2008
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Lucy Lovett Poem
i have this friend
hes consumed by fear
emotions crawl up his spine,
rip out his guts
i pretend hes mine
his gentle voice makes me sick
makes me cry
he says these things
i never forget
it makes me sick
it makes me sick
Copyright © Lucy Lovett | Year Posted 2008
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Lucy Lovett Poem
Its the dead of night,
were lying in the grass
the stars glimmer down
the light of a lit cigarette dangles above
coils of smoke drift above his head
i'm laying apart from him
every word that comes from his mouth drips with agony
"if this is good as its gonna get,
lets just leave now"
the thoughts in my head,
they shake from side to side
"i'm dying" i say,
he looks at me, another drag from his cigarette
"aren't we all" he says
"every second that passes,
is a second closer to dying"
and this is what kills me.
Copyright © Lucy Lovett | Year Posted 2008
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Lucy Lovett Poem
i wait for that phone call
staring out my window
sun bleeds in,
the pane condensed like tears
just hearing your voice makes me happy,
inspires me,
just your voice
i wait,
and wait,
until the sun has faded into the horizon,
the darkness begins to flood
finally, that loud ringing
a slight panic,
my heart leaps
come to find out,
it isn't you
it's your mother,
sobbing,
water in your lungs.
Copyright © Lucy Lovett | Year Posted 2008
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