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Anya Sep 2018
In first grade
My mom
Made me read
A
Magic Treehouse book
Someone had bought me as a present

Then came my 6+ years long obsession
With fantasy

In third grade
My mom made me read
Red Pyramid
Recommended by my girl scout
Troop leader

Thus started my 5+ year obsession
With mythology

In seventh grade
My mom signed me up
For a field hockey goalie camp
She heard about
From a colleague

This started my 4 year venture
Into being a field hockey goalie

Somehow she always tells me
I never listen
She forces me
And I fall in love

This cycle has repeated

So much

When will I learn from my mistakes?
Will I ever?
When will I be able to find these things for myself?
Will I then be truly independent?
Anya Sep 2018
When I set up my profile
I put down my gender
Right away
No qualms

But when it came to my age...
Sometimes I put it down
Sometimes I take it off

And I wonder why...

Somehow, to me
My gender has been
Entrenched, in my sense of identity

When I was little,
I remember thinking
“I like being a girl”
And there was nothing
To it, really
No true reason
I just liked who I was

But when it comes to age...
Social anxiety
Lack of confidence
Gave me difficulties
When interacting with peers
As I would have liked
At times
Adults were kind
And I saw them through rose colored glasses, mature individuals
I wanted to emulate
At times

Then...
At other times
I wanted to be a little kid
Innocent, young, free
Especially
When we started having homework

So.
My gender
Is okay with me
But as for my age...

There’s nothing wrong with it
But my double sense of identity
Between young
And old
Keeps me from consenting
To permenantly leaving those
Little
Black
Numbers
On my profile

How about you?
Are you certain about your gender?
Age?
Neither?
Both?
Anya Jul 2018
Why should I?
I ask my insistent self
And instead of
Giving me some convincing reason
She says
Why should I?
No matter what others say, the only one who can truly understand or at least speak for ourselves is ourselves. Also bringing the idea that the only way to be content isn’t to look for external answers but to be happy with ourselves.
Anya Sep 2018
I'm not saying
that this is how it is
But,
In all my years of school
the one thing I've been taught
Again
and
Again
...
is the American Revolutionary war

Which makes sense
since,
it was technically the official formation
of the country I currently live in

But really,
In 10th grade
I'm having deja-vu back
to fourth grade
when we even had a musical
about it
(I was student #2 by the way)

And now
we have the Broadway musical Alexander Hamilton
which,
I am TOTALLY a fan of
Despite
the numerous reoccurring themes
I've had stuck in my face
enough to remember
for the
rest
of
my
lifeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
...
Okaaay,
So, Revolutionary War:
...
...
...
AftertheFrenchandIndianwarBritianwasindebtsothey­triedtaxingthecollonieswhichthecolloniesweretotallyagainst.Miscom­munication(allthewayacrossthesea)alongwithotherthingsincludingphr­asessuchas"notaxationwithoutrepresentation"werethrownaround.Event­uallyitjustblewupintotheactualwarwhichAmericaendedupwinningdespit­eBritain'ssuperiorarmyandinthenAmericawasleftwithamessofstatestan­ddisagreeablefoundingfatherstocometoaconsensusandfiguresomethingo­ut.

Okay, I don't know if you actually
got anything from that
but basically
it was a rushed (sort of) summaryish
of the American Revolutionary war
...
ish.

Well, I mean I've only learned
about it from one side

Anyway, by now I almost know the facts
we learn in school here
as well
as the back of my hand
...
which I don't know very well by the way
why do people even use that?

Anyway, it's not completely old material
that we're learning
because
now,
there's analyzing too

Just today we analyzed the differences
between
Federalists
and Anti-federalists
...
Okay,
you probably don't want the
nitty-gritty details
...
And that concludes my
(Strange)
tirade/(I can't really call it a tirade because it wasn't angry
so maybe narration?)
About history class
...
Hope this quirky
piece of writing
gave you a few smiles!

(Or if not confusion works too.)
In all honesty I started this as a valid poem but my strange mood made it spiral seriously off track.
Anya Sep 2018
When a person is
Caught off guard
Is their natural
Reaction
Fight
Or flight
...
Or freeze?

Sometimes,
One can play it innocent
Diffident
Flight
Backing off
Easily

Other times
One could play it cool
There’s nothing
Wrong with what I’m doing
And I ain’t moving gurl

Then, there’s the freeze
Just stop
Stutter
Or don’t even speak
Um’s and
Uhhh’s
Leading
The other
To come to their
Own conclusion
...
So, which one do you do
Flight
Or fight
...
Or freeze?
Anya Jan 2019
On the girl's side:

Are you going to winter formal?
No, I wish I was. They even have a candy bar.

On the boy's side:

Theoretically, if I was to consume cyanide...
You know you could...

On the girl's side:

Look at how perfectly I filled the gel!
Yeah, girl power!

On the boy's side:

Who filled the gel C?
I'll use you for my source of error.

On the girl's side:

Eugh, beef tacos:
I never eat them, only paninis and pizza...sometimes

On the boy's side:

Ooh, beef tacos!
Finally something good to eat.

I find myself smiling. It is true, I'm only describing a tiny microcosm
Not nearly enough,
to make conclusions

Aligning to stereotypes?

Maybe, I don't know
But I do know,
While listening,

I was fighting to keep a smile off my face
How funny people can be when you remove yourself from
Main character to audience
Anya Jul 2018
A thousand worries
swarm my mind in an instant
A thousand warnings
ring the alarm
A thousand tingles
race up my spine
My stomach knots
my face burns
My mind unsuccessfully
tries to tamp it down
I grit my teeth,
Close my eyes...
Anya Nov 2018
Some say to fear the dark
Yet, unlike day
It offers a sense of comfort
Enveloped within
A blanket of invisible space
Free from searching eyes
And the terrifying
spotlight
Anya Dec 2018
Today I drank straight peppermint tea
Normally I’d sweeten it
With spoonfulls of
Sugar or honey

Today I read five chapters straight
Normally I’d take
Frequent breaks

Today I didn’t check my phone once
Normally I’d do it at least
Seven times

Well,
We’ve all gotta grow up
Some time
I guess
Anya Oct 2018
A glance
The little black figures
words
lines
of endless text
pass me by
my eyes
seeing nothing
but little
black
lines
shapes
dots
stripes
crosses
...
A stick
slathered in
nutella
chocolate, and hazelnut
the sweet
makes
me
numb
The crunch makes me
succumb
...
The sounds
pelting me
commands
inquiries,
things to do
things to hear
So
Much
Noise
Information
being blown away
in the wind
past my
unresponsive
ears
A lone
buzz takes
over
...
The sprite
gluggs down
my
esophagus
Burns
my lungs
A crinkle
from the now,
empty
bottle
...
The led
****** my fingers the
keys click clikety click as I
tap tapety tap
poke
****
the computer keys the
piano keys
ting
tingety ting
as I push
press
Smooth
that little piece of dirt I
rub rub Rub RUB
scratch SCRATCH
...
The frozen
unbelievable painfully
sweet sweetness
numbs my
tongue
cream
cold as
ice freezes
my brain
My brain
My brai
My bra
My br-
My b-
B-
b-
B-
bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb
...
...
...
Envelop­ed
in a blanket of
sweetness
my tongue is all I know
as I
Binge
To
Ecstasy
It's a strange feeling I've tried to inscribe onto these pages. A bit dark, obsessive, attempting to numb obligation with food, some OCD in there. But all of these are maybes, interpret it as however you'd like I hope you find it interesting.
Anya Sep 2018
In preschool it was drawing
In elementary school it was reading
In seventh grade it was anime
In eighth grade it was Manga
In freshman year it was Asian light novels
Now,
It’s poetry
...
What will it be next???
Anya Nov 2018
Shall I leap
Or step back

Retain the blanket of security
Or explore the uncharted waters of uncertainty

Say what comes will come,
Or grasp the minimal control

Free fall?
Or use the stairs?

One is riskier,
The other is safer,


Obviously


Then, she says something to me
that makes me realize
my foolishness

We're in the age of computers and technology
If I'm facing a risky proposition,

Why not look it up?
Sometimes we make a big deal out of nothing.
Anya Nov 2018
I internally sneered
at her disjointed manner

Externally cheerful
but actually proud that I wasn't her

Acting like her friend
But only, when it was convenient or I felt pity

Seeming to mind my own business
But chastising her inside

I wondered what was going on
Everything she did
wasn't malicious
She simply didn't know
But why did I act the way I did
...
But today I understand
She and I,
are one and the same
I took an event that occurred with me back in middle school, elongated it a little bit and wrote it into this poem.
Anya Sep 2018
One day I’ll let free
The me
That only my family knows

One day I’ll allow myself to babble
Without feeling
Self conscious or insecure

One day I’ll allow myself to run
As hard
And fast as I can
Without worrying about looking like a fool

One day I’ll sing
(More like scream)
At the the top of my lungs
Chasing birds off of rooftops

One day I’ll twirl
Round and round and round
Till I drop

One Day,
I’ll meet someone
Who can handle
My bedazzle
Anya Dec 2018
Children are...
rather innocent creatures
Or at least,
I,
in my protected, childhood of fairy tales
Princesses and superheroes and talking frogs
Was
My third grade diary when asked to name something precious
-Family
Unlike toys unbreaking
Keeps you happy and safe
Rather,
precocious I was at that
but still too much
-Naive

As I still am,
of course
See, the thing about adolescence
Is
Hormones raging, from crushes to bullying to acting out
The time when we
              Think
We're out of the                     Naive
                  Quite dangerous, really
Since, we're really Not

A whole butload of
                         "adult"
                               stuff I'll probably
Be subject to and
May have been earlier if not for
My reclusive tenancies
and lazy ways
and protected life


I say it,
In a careless manner
Trying to look cool, even in poetry
But, like, it's going to happen
I'm going to come face
to face
Have to make
a choice
And it's nothing to be intimidated about
I tell myself
Still,
Truly a question
to consider,

I'm assuming,
one day I'll mature
And when that day comes...

Will I still be the little girl
With the two bouncing pigtails
Scrunched up face
Pencil too tight grip
Recreating
Oval eyes, smiley lips, long hair
My nth drawing of a girl?

Mind uncluttered
with what could be
         what should be
         what would be
Only, what is
And what I want

Hmm...
But as the clock strikes twelve another day has gone by
and it's well past time for me to go to bed
Another year, past
More time gone by
More memories to reminisce about
But...
Also more to look forward to
Anya Nov 2018
“Ought”
Ought to do
What a strange word indeed
Very different
From “will”
Will do
Rather like it’s
Parent
Following behind      the child
Stubbornly refusing the jacket
They
     “Ought”
To wear
Like now I “ought” to sleep.
Anya Dec 2018
Rules,
Superficial rules we create
We confine ourselves within boxes
Answering a desperate plea for order
Some semblance of control, of understanding,
Shape, within shapeless mass, shapeless space
We build cages, chains, interlocked, intertwined

Yet, a common phrase
“Think outside of the box”
We acknowledge,
This cage
And in many cases it can be good
But we also acknowledge,
That to truly come up with something great, unique, to leave a
Lasting mark
One must think outside of the box left behind by our predecessor’s
Thoughts outside of their box
Which form our box

It’s like

Understand how to read notes
Before you compose your own

Know the color wheel
Before you experiment

Read books,
Before your write one

Maybe that’s where successful people come from,
People who manage to learn about their box
Well, before they manage to
Break it’s boundaries

And each minute, each second, each millisecond, each
This is happening again, and again
Our cages being broken
Reforged, anew

And through the internet, the media, mordern communications
Knowledge of this new box, these new boundaries
Can be spread

To pique another child or adult’s interest
Until the boundaries are broken
Once again
A cycle
On repeat

Until finally-



Or,
Is it like the universe,
Ever expanding,
Infinitely large
Without an end?
Anya Apr 2019
I dropped red paint
It got on my black pants
And my black shoes
And my black hair

I touched blue paint
It got on my brown arm
And brown nose
And brown cheek

I plopped yellow paint
On my pink lips
And pink nails
And pink phone

I lathered black paint
Made of yellow,
Blue,
And red paint
On my white soul

Now,
I have color
Weird ending isn’t it? I dunno, it spun off the axis for which it was originally intended.
Anya Sep 2018
I do think someone who adamantly denies themselves would
Possibly write a poem judging others for reading
Their poem
But wouldn’t that be denying others
Not them?
Anya May 2018
They speak, they laugh, they smile.
They joke, they whisper, they snicker.
They have fun;
I don’t.
They are there; I am here.
Perfect,
a smooth layer of glass.
Not a single bump.
Not
one single
ripple.
Perfect,
cold,
apart,
alone.
But not entirely...still.
A word,
a phrase,
bubbling, churning,
trapped.
Desires escape.
Wants to come out.
Needs to come out.
There, on the tip of the tongue.
Clever?
Maybe.
Funny?
Possibly.
Me?
Yes.
But...
But...
Imperfect.
Thoroughly, utterly, completely imperfect.
And the waves come crashing down-BOOM!
Silence,
gone,
returned to placid waters.
Gone.
Click!
cage locked tight...
Perfect.
Anya Sep 2018
The little children stand squished together
in a tight enclosed space
Straight
uniform
But...
squirmy
Unable to be completely still

A solid phase

Then, they start to squirm some more
as their boredom takes over
wriggle
shake
some start coming off
the tightly knit shape
More and more
lose
and open spaces
Until its a shapeless mass of kids
Each with ample space

Liquid phase

Then they get tired of standing around
Some start playing tag
Running about
leaving
wandering
Dispersed
Until finally,
...
The once tightly knit
figure
is simply
a few random kids
zooming around
here and there

Gas phase
The kids were molecules going from a solid to a liquid to a gas phase as energy was being added by the way in case you didn't get it.
Anya Oct 2018
Today, we went backpack
shopping
and I got one
covered in pineapples
that matches my hat
from a year ago
So happy!
You know when random, little, nonsensical things make you happy?

If not, being completely confused by this poem sprung from my random bout of strangeness works too.
Anya Oct 2018
I just realized,
I have a painting of
A pineapple
In my room
Made by
Yours truly

I have a pineapple
Hat bought on a whim
At Walmart
Last year

I have a newly bought
Pineapple
Backpack
Because of
The sheer
Randomness

I nearly googled pineapple
I used to watch Sponge Bob
(For those of you who don’t know, he lives in a pineapple)
...
...
...
I don’t even eat pineapples that much
...
...
What’s going on?
...
I think multiple
Sets of coincidences
Became a serious
Thing
..
.
..
But I don’t have a pineapple obsession!
.........
......
...
Do I?
Possible weird, mildly worrying obsession of your own? Feel free to comment!
Anya Sep 2018
Just a color
But,
Is it really?

In preschool it was fine
I liked what I liked
No one cared

In elementary school
It became
Girly
Yet, ironically
This made most of the girls
Like me
Tomboys
Stay away from it

And instead,
It became cool for a guy
To like it

In highschool
Girls don’t care
Guys don’t care
People like what they want

But,
Is that really how it is?

Somewhere, under the surface
Amongst sparkly pink nails
And dresses

Somehow,
It’s not a color anymore
...
But a symbol
Anya Oct 2018
Poems
Are like sticky notes
Recording
Little pieces
Of my life
...
Although,
They record
Much,
Much more
Anya Sep 2018
Why do I write poetry?
Is it to let it all out
Sometimes
A torrent of words
A hurricane of emotions
Other times
Simple lightly dusted sprinkles
On a cupcake
Free and airy
Yet,
Despite the medium
Through which my emotions
Words
Messages
Stories
Are conveyed
What is the purpose
And why only certain people?
Why not that person over there
Why doesn’t everyone write poetry
Why do people write poetry
What makes one a poet
And what makes a poet
Be a poet
I wonder
Anya Sep 2018
I just realized
As I was shuffling
Through my poems
A majority of
My poetry
Seems
To be
A
Pocket
For my
Insecurities
Anya Oct 2018
The poems
That mean the most
To me
Are my most personal
Individualistic
Ones

But the ones
That are the most popular
Happen to be the
Most general ones
Writtin in a whim
Easy,
To empathize with
...
It makes sense if you think about it
Anya Sep 2018
Is it better
To have complex sounding poems
With analogies, literary devices, and enriching words galore
Conveying the same message in numerous ways
But sporting a simple ideas

Or
To have simply written
Clearly stated
Easily comprehensibly worded
Poems
Sporting complex ideas?
Anya Sep 2018
You know,
The frustrating thing
Is that almost all
The good poetry
Comes to me
In the night

I try to sleep
As newer and newer
Pieces
Loudly
DING ****!
The doorbell in my mind

Then, of course
My body is inclined to roll over
And my hands are forced to
Pick up my phone
And
Begin typing
...
Argh!
What must I do to sleep!?
Anya Sep 2018
Is it better to write like you live
Or live like you write?
Anya Jul 2018
I think it’s silly
And maybe I’m cynical
To wonder
Because to me
Life isn’t a gift
Life isn’t a right
Life isn’t a chance
given to us
The universe was just so
For it to happen
And it did
Weather we are lucky
Or not
One can decide for themselves
But as for me
I don’t want to think of those useless things
It did happen
So I’ll make of it what I will
Do what I want
Short term
Long term
Whatever the case
Not for others
Not for some possible entity living above
But just
For
Me
Anya Jul 2018
Blank canvas
                       Empty
                                 Flat
                                       White
                                                  But,
                                             Potential
Anya Jan 2019
Click Click clickety-click
A rolling laughter in waves,
Increases like a storm, then comes spinning down
In little bouts,  Actually
My to do list stretches quite long as I enjoy frequently reminding myself
Feeling busy
Feeling like I'm useful
I have things
to do
But,
For some reason
Maybe none,
I don't
Open my tab
and do them
Click Click clickety-click
Anya Jul 2018
Buried in a hole
                           Pain?
                      Nah
Numb...
                Eh
Numb...
               Short circuiting
Numb...
               Fluffy ponies
Numb...
               Sleep, who she be?
Numb...
               Crinkle, the package opens
Numb...
               Blurry vision
Numb...
               Hysterical
Numb...
               No tears
Numb...
               Wave of self deprecation
           Self pity
        Wow
       I'm pretty pathetic
...
Oh well
  A
    Problem
      For another
         Day
Anya Mar 2019
I go over my bucket list one more time...
Study, then jog a bit, finish my drawing for my grandma, then the equation I couldn’t figure out, then write the essay-
Or wait-maybe I should read the guidelines one more time-
The due date, when is it again?
AH! Piano is more immediate, where’s my metronome?
Oh no! The books are all our of order again and I can’t find it, why don’t I reorganize them in the process-
My room looks like trash why don’t I-

“Honey, are you done with your homework yet?”

Um...






Well...
Anya Sep 2018
Proteins oh Proteins,
How much you do for us!

You are our support
The framework keeping us up
The bones under our skin

You are the mad scientist
encouraging chemical reactions within us
Enzymes, catalyzing reactions

You are our traffic regulators
Signaling how much,
Hormones
Like insulin regulating glucose in the blood

You are the detectives within us
Figuring out what it bad
Then flagging it for destruction

You are our truck drivers
Shuttling materials to
and fro
Hemoglobin, carrying oxygen from the lungs

You are our storage
Our shelves packed to the brim with
materials
Like ferritin storing iron in our bodies

There is so much you do
That is key to our survival
...
However shall I remember all you do
for my test tomorrow?
Anya Dec 2021
The title is simply
a culmination of my whims
like the whim that keeps me
glued to my screen
tap taping away
tap
tap tap

While my room looks like some monster's den
And I engorge myself on those chocolate almonds

My eyes grow hazy
As my waistline grows larger
The yellow light pierces my eyeballs

As I be tap
tapping
away
If you're feeling like me right now, you're not alone. It's so easy to get swallowed up by our screens, fight it, fight it so you have no lasting regrets for the time will slip through your fingers like sand.
Anya Sep 2018
When you're little
and learning to grasp reality
Invisible friends
Unicorns
and fairy tales
are a common thing

But when you grow older
Do you actually grasp reality
...
Or are the mystical fairy chimes
in your head
just replaced with screaming?
This poem took a darker twist than I'd usually use but I wanted to test the idea out.
Anya Oct 2018
I discovered something today
As,
The proposal
Of the main character
Of my novel
Had me jumping
All over the house
In a fit
Of giggles
...
It’s easier for one to get closer
To a fictional character
Since,
You know everything about them

If my classmate
Told me something
In the way of romantic
Matters,
I may congratulate her
With a smile
...
But it’d be
Nowhere near
As energetic
As I am now
Anya Sep 2018
I held back the waterfall
threatening to pour
Honestly,
Is it passive resignation?
I don't believe so
It feels more like...
waiting
Taking joy in the little things
But clutching onto a hope
that the world
my world
my story
will just evolve into just about every book
I've read
A happy story
I mean-it is
But, it's imperfect
Filled with incessant
USELESS
pity parties
I'm not friendless
I'm not heart broken
I have my family
I have talent
I have resources
I live in a great community
I have a great education
Endless opportunities
At my disposal
If I just reach
But-
It's impossible to feel perfect
And impossible to shrug off the laziness
The complacency
The flaws
It's important to be greatful
And I am
If I had the opportunity to trade
I definitely wouldn't
But-
It is true that sometimes
I'm smacked in the face
with the imperfections
the flaws
of my world
that I strive towards
I must keep striving towards
...
Okay.

I feel better now.
Anya Feb 2019
My mouth, awash with the remnant of the 320 calorie pack of six oreos I know I shouldn't have bought
My eyes glazed after succumbing to the irresistible allure of hours of youtube rather than the exam I should be studying for
My mind entrenched in every stupid thing I've ever said or done (quite a list if I may say so myself)
When all you see is a little girl
Studiously typing away
Anya Sep 2018
I’ve always thought
That an ideal relationship
Not nessesarily romantic,
Must have
A balance
Of give
And take
...
But what if that balance always tips?
I often find my self consciousness has me holding myself back and giving more than taking at times.
Anya Jul 2018
Lives inside
      A monster
Picking at
      everything new
Pointing out
       everything wrong
With your life
With them
With you
Anya Jun 2019
Truly, I feel most peaceful when
My face is attempting to go
Through the floor, smushed up
Against the little fibers containing treasures from last week’s late night snack
Before being swept away by the tornado known as the vacuum cleaner

I somehow really do like it
My stomach being repelled with every breath gives me the mistaken belief
That there’s no need for my exercise routine or that
I won’t be regretting the chocolate hazelnut churros and chocolate ice cream I indulged in
“Just this once”
My new favorite three words

But wait,
It’s not new
Simple the same old story repeating itself again
And again
        And again
Anya Sep 2018
It's scary when you realize
how much your self worth
is dependent on Others
Anya Jun 2018
Third wheel
                             Extra
                                                    Discarded
                                                                          Trash
                                 Time to pull out the self pity
Wrap it around myself tight.                                    
                               A snug cocoon
A supposed shield                      
                                                   Suffocating me unnoticed
From the inside.                

...


Till it’s too late
Anya Aug 2018
I’m an embarrassment to my name
I’m a ****** all the same
I could sing this every day
Not really
Just kidding
I’m not so negative
Or at least I don’t allow myself to be
They’re just excuses
Used to cover up
Mistakes
Embarrassments
Make myself feel better about
My failures
But I know they’re not really true
At least,
They’re not what I truly believe
Anya Jul 2018
When
Your helping her helping him
It’s for your own gain
Either it benefits you
It makes you feel good or better about yourself
It’s someone you love or like
All of these are for yourself
There is no “selfless”

But

Neither is it selfish
People connotate
selfish
With bad
It doesn’t have to be
Why should we
Do something if we have no motivation?

Motivation
Comes from
Us having some stake
Some benefit
Something to gain
Some reason to act
To speak
To behave

So it’s not selfish
I the cynic would say,
Nor is it selfless
There is no such thing
It’s simply the cogs and mechanics
That turn
And enable us to act
Speak
Behave
Work

Because why would we do anything without a reason
even if that reason happens to be boredom
or curiosity?
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