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Juhi Chavda Mar 2015
Dear teacher,
you make me want to die.
Maybe if I could see you become human
I wouldn't feel the way I do.
But how do I see through you?
Your fangs sink into me
And **** my soul out.
You make me lie awake at night,
Wishing I was dead, wondering,
If death would be better than
Existing in this hell.
Would I really care,
about your remarks on my death bed?
If I passed your stupid test,
Will I not die?
Dear teacher, why do you make me want to die?
Juhi Chavda Jan 2015
Crying is not enough anymore. I'd like to swallow a knife or a burning candle.
Juhi Chavda Jan 2015
Etched their image on my heart.
Even when I knew they would leave.
Which they did; I grieved.
I've learned to scrape
Images off my heart.
Now I'm weary,
and my heart is paper thin.
Running out of sandpaper,
I'm alone, I've always been.
Juhi Chavda Nov 2014
Oh darling, you don't matter,
Because you aren't even there.
And love, you don't matter,
Because no one cares.
But sweetheart you don't matter,
So what keeps you here?
Why can't you just wake up
And stop time.
Vanish.
Disappear.
Go invisible.
Just like you always were.
But in a more permanent way.
Dear darling, you don't matter
Because you aren't even there.
Juhi Chavda Nov 2014
Why do you have to tell her
To come back home before dark?
Why do you have to tell her
To wear what they want her to wear?
Why do you have to tell her
To sit with her legs crossed?
Why do you have to tell her
to look around when she bends down?
Why do you have to mould her
In to something she shouldn't be?
Why do you have to tell her
That she needs to be perfect?
When you know that perfection
Is like trying to walk to the horizon.
Why cant she just be?
Whatever comes naturally?
Why can't she walk around in pants?
Run like she actually can?
Let her be what she wants to be.
Let her dream what she wants to dream.
What the 4 year old you wanted to dream.
Let her be a person.
And you can find your dolls in the market.
  Nov 2014 Juhi Chavda
Kelly Rose
Is there such
a thing as a soul mate?

I don't know

I'm just learning
about me
How can I expect
someone else
to know me?

Granted
It would be
Lovely to
really be understood
or
would it?

I must travel
my own path
lonely though it may be
at times

And as for being
understood
I suspect it is highly
overrated...
Or
is it?
11/2/2014
Juhi Chavda Nov 2014
I am not writing for attention.
I am not writing because I'm whiny.
I am not displaying myself for applause.
Nor for criticism.

I write because my insides need me to.
I write because it makes existence bearable.
Because if I don't express myself to something that doesn't judge me, I don't see what I'd get from waking up again.

Every time I write, the first sentence I choose is, 'I am tired'.
Not out of habit. But because I'm compelled to write when I am.
I need an out and no one gets me but the paper.
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