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Literature Text


    i am sorry for how id climb into your garden years ago
and steal your green onion. 
i am not sure why id apologize for taking from you, because
    a. you had more than enough 
and 
    b. i didn't know you,
but, im still sorry.  

    i do not know if this would mean much to you,
    but i thought–
of all the gardens i could sneak into, yours was the best.

    you had a rainy-dark fence that would lean like a threat when 
i touched it. 
each plank had a spearhead and
    they were all decay-black.

    when i climbed it i had to kick hard while forcing my arms 
straight and jam my hands onto the spears. 
    i befriended pain very young.
 
    you never heard me land in the bed of your wheelbarrow,
even though i was loud about it. 
    i attributed it to your being old. 

    i am not sure why of all the peonies and lilacs, 
i took green onion. 
    i guess at eleven, we do not think about what is pretty.
   i wonder if you would have appreciated my irony. 

    i once cut my hand on your rotting spears when the fence
leaned too far while i was leaving. 
    i hit the dirt and my hands were green and red.
it reminded me of christmas, and i forgot the pain.

    i am sixteen now, and i do not steal green onion
anymore, in case you wondered. 
    i am glad that i got to be an onion thief though,
and i am glad that i got to know you
as vaguely as i did. 

thank you for my childhood.
i apologize for stealing your green onion.
 
    
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PatchworkLynx's avatar
Did I ever tell you how much I loved this
cause I love it a lot