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 Oct 2015 am
ER
If I Could Write Anger into Poetry

If I could write anger into poetry I'd write about how five months with someone has led me to almost 6 months of insanity

If I could write anger into poetry I would write about how he said he was depressed his sophomore year but I knew "was" wasn't the right tense of the word and I didn't say anything more

If I could write anger into poetry I would write about how ******* him didn't change the way he treated me (not that I ever imagined we'd be here)

If I could write anger into poetry I would write about all the times he swore he wasn't talking to her

If I could write anger into poetry I would write about how I begged him to stay

If I would write anger into poetry I would write about my headache from screaming so loud the night I found out he was talking to her

If I could write anger into poetry I would write about the time they walked by me in the hallway and all of a sudden it all became too real; I was nothing.

If I could write anger into poetry I would write about the pit in my stomach and the tears in my eyes as I watched them wear matching colors at prom

If I could write anger into poetry I would write about watching the girl who called me " the ****** ex" take a snipe of me and send it to him as if I am blind to other teenage girls

If I could write anger into poetry I would write about how I swear I can still smell his cologne in the passenger seat of my car

If I could write anger into poetry I would write about how he broke up with me when all I wanted was him and he didn't break up with her when she cheated on him and how that makes me feel like every atom of my being is nothing

If I could write anger into poetry I would write about how I dreamt of literally trying to strangle an apology out of him and he kept saying "no, no, no"
If I could write anger into poetry I would write about how that doesn't compare to the dreams where he kisses my neck and tells me he still loves me

If I could write anger into poetry I would write about suddenly waking up at 5:00 am because my blood is boiling about the time almost a year ago we were waiting in line for popcorn and he said that his parents wouldn't care if he died and I didn't say anything more

If I could write anger into poetry I would write about how I watched him laugh with his friends in school about how he ripped me apart vein by vein and months later he tries to tell me he is sorry

If I could write anger into poetry I would write about how socially embarrassing it is to confide in the one person who betrayed you

If I could write anger into poetry I would write about how he's gotten worse and there's nothing I can say, nothing I can do. I am meaningless now.

If I could write anger into poetry, I would.
 Sep 2015 am
ER
What's the point
 Sep 2015 am
ER
Break ups aren't looking at the city's skyline and realizing a whole new world ahead of you
They're not being able to get out of bed because the sadness has consumed even your bones

They aren't eating ice cream while watching a chick flick with your friends
They're 7 pounds of weight disappearing in a week because all you want is the taste of their lips

They are not listening to a playlist of break-up songs and feeling better
They are not being able to hear anything but the sound of his voice when he gets out of your car for the last ******* time when he says "I'm sorry, thanks for the ride."

They are not quietly crying to yourself alone in your room
They're headaches from screaming hard your muscles ache

They are not about forgiving yourself
They're sleeping till one pm and going to bed at 3 am because you can't seem to stop thinking about all the things you should've said

They're not drowning yourself in ***** so you can forget
They're waking up in the middle of the night infuriated and screaming into your sheets "Why me?"

They are not having everyone support you
They are listening to the snippy girls in the hallway call you "pyscho" even though they have no idea you are holding back tears

They aren't being able to move on
They are watching you first love walk down the hallway looking at her they way he used to look at you and it feels like you just got shot but can't seem to die so you live with the pain

They are not looking at the world and still seeing light despite your darkness.
They are hours in your room thinking "if the person I care about the most isn't going to give a **** about me, then what is the point?"
 Sep 2015 am
Chris
worth it
 Sep 2015 am
Chris
we just grew apart
i was never enough for her
she will tell me how wrong i am
that i filled her cracks with cement
in reality i was a thin plastic
on a bridge that demands steel
demands a good unselfish man
the cracks in my plastic snapped
underneath the pressure of desire
you and i are not the same
we tried
we tried
in the end she wanted a love from me
too powerful for me
too emotional for me
a love she gave and hoped for in return
hopefully she waited a year
and the more she fell in love
the more i drifted apart
i could only give a skimp excuse
it really is not her fault it is mine
she believed in me put her faith inside
and i never returned the favor
she wanted a real love
passionate
fulfilling
enduring
i am none but a false sense
i am the eye of the hurricane
you will not hear me roar until
i am gone
love
 Aug 2015 am
Chris
leftover
 Aug 2015 am
Chris
Mediocrity moans the ******* pleasure
Spurring melting love drips from its lips
Amateur hour whisking the air away
Volcanic ash filling the punctured lungs
Lifelessness pours downwards onto the *******
Nothing left between us
Just death and memories of the better days
i am the leftover of something great
 Aug 2015 am
Chris
lost in the night
 Aug 2015 am
Chris
Lost in a hidden dim light
Keeping hold of what is right
Transfixed in the lights ways
Soon I will shatter the lights mesmerizing rays
Free the inner nature of darkness
A true form of self happiness
It's all that I want
It's all that I need
The only problem is what I do
Hurts the people that I love
 Nov 2014 am
Sarah
On surviving
 Nov 2014 am
Sarah
Body asks for breath and you give it
and you tell yourself again about how you are worth more than crying, cowering in the bathroom stall of your high school, its the last period class of the day
Body asks for breath and you give it
take a sip and another and another until you are gorged on sweet smelling drinks surrounded by people you knew once upon a time in a dream you had as a little girl
Body asks for breath and you give it
run from every word that has etched itself into your paper thin oxygen skin, or has eaten at the pit of your stomach- worthless, ****, horrible, inferior, inferior, inferior
Body asks for breath and you give it
you've been in the dark for so long but tonight you stick your head out of the passenger window and gaze at the stars, and that song comes on - you know the one- smile erratically because you've survived for now, get lost in the song
Body asks for breath and you give it, give it, give it.
my songs: gold- wake owl, cigarette daydreams- cage the elephant, Dancing in the moonlight- Alt-J, Hourglass- Catfish and the Bottlemen
 Aug 2014 am
Chris
mom?
 Aug 2014 am
Chris
Raindrops keep falling on my head
Nothing feels quite like it
Much like the way it feels
When you cast your hand and arm
For someone else to take when they
Have no such things, no such stable
Grounds to bear themselves on

The feeling of no air left in my lungs
Nothing burns quite like it
Much like the way feels
When you are the one who stole
Hands and arms, people's ground
Leaving nothing for them to
Bear themselves on not even a crumb
And it burns deep in my lungs most
When they look into my eyes and i see
Every scale of sorrow possible to weigh
And they see nothing in my eyes at the Time

The feeling of my stomach eating at me
There is nothing quite like it
Except the feeling of regret if only now
If only now she could gaze into my eyes
And see the regret for all that I had held
Not often this comes but when it does
She never gets to see it
 Aug 2014 am
Chris
I love to stare at clouds
Not because of the fact that they can be
Whatever suits me
When you stare at them

My love for clouds is because they are
Such a cliche metaphoric version of me
Clouds are made up of little things
Always running from their past

But eventually they will make life hell
With words of rain they spit onto you
Strike you down with lightening
Only then do they realize what damage
And despair
They had caused the innocent
And much like me the clouds
Disappear into the thin air
Strange poem
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