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tarnish

Heavy new soul, biting away at your
Brave black words,
Like they were candy or a
pill that you could take to make the please remember me's just go away
I see right through you, tired ocean eyes
See your scars and all your bittersweet goodbyes
Like they were mine, or just a memory
of days when we could hold ourselves
and know that we could make it on our own
You are my broken bluebird
I call out for you and know that you have heard
The ripping whispers from a day that we have lost
From all those time we put our daydreams in a box
and said, We won't ever leave it all behind
But we're just victims to a clown the world calls Time
She makes a joke of us and turns it all around
Brushing past us and erasing every foothold we had found
And through these young lives it seems we've taken up her work
Helping her to twist ourselves in shapes of dread and hurt
Masks that we've invented, our very own charade
Dancing through new missteps, finding our own way
of coping with the bitter years that tore us up
Dirty like the rainy days we loved just for the mud
Tired like the times when we still cried if we would bleed
Like it was some surprise we're not invincible
Like we have some right to be
I said a quiet blessing and moved forward with my life
All the time still watching you from the corner of my eye
Shift into some sort of demon that I've grown to only loathe
I wish that I could tear it off, this skin that you have grown
You sad animal, please tell me just what we've become
Like we were innocent, we played with finger guns
for too long and now they're real and we both fell and I am dying
Shot right through the heart by you, this pain, this past and I am trying
To get through to you these words before my mortal struggle ends
Please don't play pretend with me,
My tarnished, faded friend



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MckayThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
today at 3:14 pm:
Hmmm...Seems to me you've always been good at writing poetry, even four years from now. I sense a lot of fustration, which I can relate to with my old stuff—my old juvenilia—Ha! There's a lot of anger and angst, and want of better understanding this upside-down world we live in. And the final two lines are wonderful. "Please don't play pretend with me,/ My tarnished, faded friend." Still an emotion that currently occupies my old self. 
 
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