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Outside, it was miserable and rainy: A cold day in November. I held the photo against the lamp On a dark day in November. It was old, blurry and grainy, But enough to make me remember.
They say everything we passed From the time it starts, The all we had light and dark They say the truth these are.
The nothingness of space envelops me As I drift amongst a sea of stars. Cold, unfeeling, this is the space we exist in,
What do you see when you look at a photograph? Do you see your memories from the past? Do you notice the things you hadn’t notice before? That night the picture was taken?
I found a faded photograph Of my grandparents Not the grandparents you’ve met My grandmother who died of cancer The one I’m named after My biological grandfather who killed himself
I used to carry the photograph of us, but now I carry the memory of how I dropped it in the subway. I carry the regret of not going back far enough to retrieve it.
In a world where people are periodically posting pics and sending selfies to fellow citizens, there is a surprising amount of self hate surrounding the subject.
When you look at the world What do you see? Do you view your food and friends in Mayfair and Valencia? Your wasting your time deciding which accent makes your skin look tan
Maybe I'm crazy and insane. Maybe we are not the same. But now I know what I see. Every time you look at me. It's innocence, That light. A light that shines through any dark night. And tho you are far away. These words I still have to say.
When I take a picture I smile and stare at my relfection. My mind wonders if they will like it if they will see me the way I see me.
I am a woman who can do it all Even though I am so small I have so much potential because I know most of the essentials
In and from this world what do we really want?
Blood as red as a rose They said death was something that you just chose Truthfully it chose you
Smile, Wave hello, Be friendly, Be bold, Be perfect. They expect that from you, So you give it to them. “What’s wrong?” They ask, if you only slightly frown.
Will it be Instagrammed, 50 likes buttons pressed to show approval instapopularity, we can accept ourselves now filtering out sincerity in acid blue Will it be framed on the wall
She told me to write a letter
Staring at her past self Evaporated Dreams Waistline Increased Color Dimmed Snapshots of happiness Endless Sunny Skies Playful Fights Summertime How old was she?
There is a bright red telephone box
This is a photograph of you, and people ask: "why is there so much pain?" How do they know... just by seeing your face that you feel anger, sadness, confusion,
I tack a portrait of you to the classroom wall --You-- Gorgeously lit in the the frame of a window Appear in the grays and blacks and whites of the photograph Peering questioningly at all who view You.