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 Jan 2015
Unwanted
You like to party, I am a partier
You like to wander, I am a wanderer
Your thighs are the closet to Narnia
Is it cool if I go and get lost in that?

I'm the lion, the witch in the wardrobe
Massage my lap, I have a sore bone
Of course cold on the dance floor
Like an Eskimo's toes in the North Pole
With both toes poking out of two holes
In the Eskimo socks, I'm hot
Like a cauldron from a warlock
Wearing sweatpants in a sauna
Who's your father? I'm not

I'm *******' Raven Bowie and here's my ****
Rooster, ****-a-doodle-doo sir
Take a hit of the hooka, now make it drop

Girl's ***** was bigger than the stomach of Rick Ross
Holy mother mountain of tender tendon to get lost in
Bounce, bounce, that castle *****, that bottom
Make it wobble, wobbly-waddle 'til my third leg has to hobble

You don't want to look back on this night
And think I should have been freaking on a *****
Freak-freaking on a *****
Just for a laugh
 Nov 2014
Taylor
But when you think about it as often as I do, wouldn't it become normal for you, too?
 Nov 2014
Juilet Rymarowitz
Sometimes, we seem to lose sight of who we think that we are;
Something can happen, and it feels as if we are broken into pieces.

You forget who you are,
You forget why certain things in life had or have meaning to you,
You forget how to smile with the same enthusiasm as you once had,
You forget why you found happiness around certain people or in certain events,
You forget your reason for living.

Yet, you pick yourself back up, give yourself a pat on the back and carry on.

You remember how to smile,
You remember how to laugh,
You remember how to be yourself,
You remember how to live again, and go on with your life as if nothing had ever happened.

In each relapse and recovery, however, a small piece of yourself is lost in the process. You cannot feel it, but you can see it when you take a step back and reflect upon the past.

An old habit is replaced with a new fixation,
A new characteristic has taken over in your personality,
An old friend is no longer on speaking terms with you,
A plethora of old notes and keepsakes were destroyed in an erstwhile fit of rage,
A sweet memory turned sour by a recent event.

Each time we fall into this cycle, we lose a small piece of ourselves.
We change, sometimes for the better, but sometimes for the worse.
Some never leave the cycle, while others simply relive it one too many times.

Valuable people, places, memories, recollections, and thoughts lost to the past, pieces of you that you tried to keep but ended up losing in the process. You don't want to change, you don't want to leave these pieces behind.

But each time you break you forget to pick up the pieces that fall off of you, or you lose them. You can never fully heal and return to the way you were before you shattered into shards. Without certain fragments, you can never be put back together the same way.

Yet, people grow, people change. These missing pieces grow back and manifest in new and strange ways, and it isn't all anxiety and melancholy.

Eventually, we can learn to live, love, learn, act, and behave freely once more; we can use the new pieces of ourselves to change into something great, new, exiting. We can flourish in another form, because sometimes, we are meant to be something other than what we had originally started out to be.

Sometimes, we seem to lose sight of who we think that we are;
But then something can happen, and it feels as if we are made whole again.
 Nov 2014
Juilet Rymarowitz
Gradually the sun sets, no longer a hero to chase away the darkness of the world, only leaving it's shadow to illuminate the Earth as it slowly spins away from it's bright visage.

A cool breeze begins to blow, enveloping the world in a frigid breath, allowing the last lingering signs of day to fade into the stillness of the night.

I raise my head from my pillow and move towards the window, looking out into a midnight field, as if only to reminisce about the past.

A tiny child, betrothed to none other than promise, imagination, and potential.
A wayward girl, unknowing of her past or present, lost to dreams of a future untold.
A ruined teenager, lost to her father and mother, stripped of her true friends, known to all as no one.
A blank adult, unknown to all and shrouded in enigma and concern, yet somehow still a hypothesized complete and utter failure.


I think quietly to myself, and skim my dull eyes over the picturesque view outside of my window, choosing to focus on the moonlight's reflection in the grass rather than on the thoughts that still rebound in my head.

What was promised can not be unbroken
The ones I claim are my friends could care less about me
He had only done what he had because I was not good enough for him
I am only hurting like this because of the situations that I have created for my own torture and amusement.


I place my head back down onto my pillow, feeling it dampen against my cheek.

No matter how hard I may try, this cannot be undone.

The moon takes hold of the sky, rising to it's uppermost point as I quickly slip away into the recess of my own mind, wondering what will come next, and how I will combat it.

Wistful thinking and hopes for a sunnier day bid me to sleep, and the world around me begins to fade to black as I tell myself yet again the same phrase I have been repeating for over a month.

*Perhaps tomorrow, I will feel better. For now, I can wait.
 Nov 2014
MysteryBear
I'm not sure of who I am anymore
I'm not sure of where I'm going
Whether I'm happy or sad
I'm not sure if I'll be alive tomorrow
I'm not sure if we'll be friends forever
Whether god will help me or not
But I am sure of something

I am like the wind,
                     Always changing,
                                         Never staying,
So take shelter,
                     I'll blow your house down just like you did me
                          When you left
 Sep 2014
Riot
give me my heart back
i’m desperate to feel
desperate to be something more than a mask
i’m out on my own
and you think you know but at last
i’m accepting i’m a monster
but when the heroes are gone
i’ll put on my good guy armor.

you won't except me into your world
i'm forced to be nothing but
the bad guy in a book

would you be able to comprehend
if i saved you yet again
*what if the hero is a monster?
 Sep 2014
Riot
since she was 11
she knew
being abused isn't a punishment
it's a birthright
 Sep 2014
Riot
i walk onto nothing
and make a bridge
**but it's burning behind me
 Sep 2014
Unwanted
You always say you want me to leave
and that you don't want to hurt me
that you don't want to bring me down
because your falling

What you don't understand is
that i wont fall
I have a strong foundation in God
strong enough to hold the both of us
and you wouldn't be falling
if you stopped jumping off

Stop pretending your not happy
stop pretending you don't feel joy
you can feel
but you wont admit its real
you cant admit your getting better
your pain comforted you like a wool sweater
but there is something better
something that doesn't make you lie
something that will be with you all the time
something that is right there waiting for you to open your eyes
you would see if you tried

but you have to choose to stand with me
neither me or God can make you believe
make you see
there is still good in you
you have a home
but you have to open your eyes
and see on your own
 Sep 2014
Riot
she's a writer
she writes about pain
she writes about how she
she is the one to blame

she's an author
she writes about the life she never understood
and how sometimes her life has less meaning
then dying

she writes when she comes home from school
she writes about the suffering
she writes about her father beating her
she writes about the bullies
she writes about how worthless she thinks she is
her handwriting is so beautiful
when she talks about pain

it's a shame that she writes on her arm

she's an author
she does nothing without inspiration
and her inspiration?
silent screams
beautiful things that wilt
like how she was born of a mother
who was a victim of ****
and she writes because her mother can never look at her the same

she is an author
her inspiration?
if a tree falls in a forest
and nobody is around to hear it
does it make a sound?
more like
if a girl cuts in her room
and nobody cares
will the silence ruin her?



                        she is an author
she is a poet
she hates herself
and only she knows it

they called her *worthless

what they meant was priceless


she copyrighted her silent song
with blood
she wrote because she wanted everyone to know
she nobody knew


she was an author
she was a bother
she was a punching bag for her father
she was an angel
she was a demon
but she didn't know which part of her to dream with


you were her inspiration
she wrote about you
and now you see everything
now that she's shown it to you

now you pick up the glass
that she used to write her final story
and she didn't copyright it


*because she wanted you to have to glory
 Sep 2014
Riot
i'm the girl who tares herself apart
because she tries to find something she's missing

i'm the girl who is scared of her own mind
because i don't know how to control it

i'm the girl who used to cry herself to sleep
because i didn't know how to be "good enough"

i'm the girl who has a secret that will change everything

i'm the girl who gets stronger every fall

i'm the girl who makes jokes about things i really don't think are funny

i'm the girl who doesn't know what love feels like
but can give it to whoever needs it

i'm the girl who's more than an age

i'm more then what you think of me

— The End —