Crystal Clear
Heather, Age 16, Benson, NC

Eleven years.
Maybe we were meant to be.
But eleven years seem so much.
This is too good to be true, especially for
Anything Iíve ever had.
Ever experienced.
I canít think of anything more unimaginable
Than this.
You think of me as a goddess, whistling my
Sweet seducing song you cannot fight.
I donít wish for you to slip,
But Iím too selfish to care when you do.
The shattered bits of myself on the floor
Collected by my own Jacob, my own guardian angel,
My own liberator.
They werenít just glued together with fragile hands
And streaks of imperfection,
But they were molded and melted and ameliorated
Into a crystal clear diamond with an unsurpassed finish.

I canít help but live in what if land.

Iím nauseated by coloring outside the lines.
Iím crossing every border put in place
By two golden circles.
Enthrall me, engulf me.
Iím a notch to you,
Youíre a relief to me.
My stomach turns,
My heart jolts.
Itís the most controlling addiction.

Weíre parasitic to everyone around us,
But together, we grow.
We feed our hungry hearts to kill the
pangs of loneliness together
Until they swell with the perfection you provide.

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