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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: I Don't Get It, Annadots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: StrayCat
    ASL Info:    17/Female/USA
    Elite Ratio:    2.88 - 3/7/4
    Words: 588
    Class/Type: Deep Thought/Lostfriend
    Total Views: 900
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 3867



    Description:
       My friend and classmate, Anna Hurd, was tragically murdered on February 23, 2013, in Maplewood. Everybody had been posting RIP statuses on Facebook and I tried, but I didn't feel like it was enough to honor her. I'm still confused and my writing may not be much better than a Facebook status, but I needed to do something and this is what it turned out to be.


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsI Don't Get It, Annadots
    -------------------------------------------


    I don't get it.
    It's not the most eloquent way to put it...
    But I don't get it.

    Anna, at the young age of sixteen,
    You didn't just die -
    You were killed.
    Your life was pulled out from underneath you.
    Your last breath taken by the hands
    Of a killer.

    He plunged the knife into you,
    Borrowing it in to your flesh,
    Stopping the pure beat of your heart.

    You didn't just die, Anna...
    You were stolen.

    And I don't get it.
    I don't get that it happened to you.

    You, who always had a smile on her face.
    You, who used to get yourself into these crazy and awkward situations.
    You, who had a laugh that could cheer up anyone.
    You, who would always be the one cracking jokes.
    You, who spoke with such a cute accent.

    But now I will never hear that Texas drawl again.
    Or hear your good humored jokes,
    Or listen to your laugh float in the air,
    Or follow you on your wild adventures
    Or see that smile that I loved -
    That we all loved-
    So, so much.

    I just don't get it.

    None of it makes sense.
    It's not real,
    At least it shouldn't be.
    I'm trying to find out what happened
    But don't know how to search without stumbling.
    Words like murdered, killed, slain
    Or the phrase like left to die,
    Just don't want to come to me.
    I act as if I don't say it
    It's not real.

    Because death is so much more disbelieving when it's personal.

    But it is real,
    No matter what I don't say
    Or search, or type.
    It's real.
    You're gone
    And I'm never going to be able to see you again.

    There isn't a hope or wish in the world
    That could bring you back.
    And I hate it.
    I hate that there's nothing I can do.

    Everyone says dying with regrets is bad,
    But what about having someone fall before you
    And regretting all the things
    You can never do.

    Anna,
    I don't get it.

    How could you be gone?
    How could this be you?
    How could anyone have the heart to take away your sweet life -
    Your sweet, pure, too-short life.
    How could anyone have the sick, twisted heart to stab you and leave you to die,
    Alone,
    In the woods.
    Forever cold,
    the blood that brought heat to your body no longer flowing.
    Forever lost,
    surrounded by the darkness of early morning
    Of a day that you never got to see,
    Because your eyes were glassing over
    With the dim glaze of death.

    Anna, it makes no sense.

    You were slain,
    left with the innocence
    Of your youth.
    Slaughtered
    Before your prime.
    Destroyed
    Before you even had a chance
    To taste what life had to offer.

    Anna,
    I don't have the phraseology,
    The vocabulary,
    To describe the grief
    That surrounds your loss,
    From myself and others.

    I can try as I may,
    I can go for words and words and words,
    Page after page,
    But I can never describe
    How we miss you,
    Or the longing desire we have for your revival.

    You're gone now, Anna,
    And the rest of us our stuck here,
    Trying to pick up the pieces,
    As we stand here in disbelief,
    Repeating,
    I don't get it.

    Anna Hurd, 1996-2013,
    You will be severely missed.
    Rest in peace.




    Submitted on 2013-03-01 22:12:12     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      No words.
    I'm so sorry for your loss.
    You've summarized the confusion, bewilderment and disbelief through the questioning tone running throughout the poem. You have done your friend, Anna, justice through your poetry.
    &#9829; Take care.
    -Esha.
    | Posted on 2013-03-04 00:00:00 | by EshyFishy | [ Reply to This ]


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