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  Nov 2017 Lexi
George Anthony
God help me, I've tried
to get you off my mind but it's
i m p o s s i b l e,
especially when the memory of you,
your body pressing me firmly
into the grass, uncaring of the lingering rain-damp dirt,
is still burned into my brain
every time you double text for my attention.

The graze of your tongue,
against my own,
a motion so languid, a feeling so warm,
a taste so sweet―

you're like molasses against my lips
sliding, impossible to ignore, down my throat
and dragging with you the words
I can't seem to spit out

and I'm grateful for the soothing relief,
the way your syrup coats where I'm raw:
a glaze that leaves sweetness in its wake
where usually there's bitterness,
both from the coffee that wars with an insomniac's exhaustion
and the way I feel about feelings.

And that's all well and good, for a while.
After all, who doesn't have a sweet tooth these days?
But once the molecules in my throat
have melted away, gone is the glaze that
sweetened the taste in my mouth, and the dark thoughts in my mind;

smothering the taste of coffee with syrup
doesn't remove the stains from your teeth,
and then the more you do it, you find yourself with cavities
and heart disease.
  Nov 2017 Lexi
Amanda Kyara
Maybe** it’s stupid for me to think
so optimistically about us.

Us.

We.

Two different letters
With potentially two different
meanings.

I just don’t understand how such a
beautiful human being can exist.

There weren’t any signs to show
me how you felt about it.

Maybe I meant something
different when I talked to you.


Or maybe you weren’t honest
to yourself about how you felt.

But boy oh boy will I be honest.

I loved everything I ever had
with you, and I always will.
Read it as a whole first, then the bolded words as a sentence.
  Nov 2017 Lexi
L
Being real is hard
as opposed to being fake
as opposed to being bubbling plastic, mask this
look past my plausibility
soft body
teeth mouth throat
eyelashes,
heart
fake
styrofoam
empty
deserted
these eyes are what I have to offer now, these ears
If you had reached me earlier, I would've had more
to put at your disposal:
my devotion
my hands
my feet
my sanity
my presence in this day, for this conversation
my heart, soul, and chapstick
but I've said too much.
If you had reached me earlier
I swear I would've given you the rib-cage straight out of my chest  
before your lips were halfway open and asking--
I know I would've been in your veins before fall
But I can't worry about your veins now,
I've opened too many of mine
and what I'm trying to say is honey,
My heart isn't full enough for me to pour it out to you every night.
You know I wish I could
Edited on February 13, 2021
  Nov 2017 Lexi
Amy Alien
When you liked me, you played with my emotions.

When you lusted for me, you played with my body.

When you loved me, you played with my heart.

When you left me, you played with my head.

Now I sit and realize, it was all just a game.

You the Master and I the pawn.
  Nov 2017 Lexi
elizabeth brotzman
You are a broken record
Player
Turning your head in circles to get a look
Of that hot peice of
***

She's more than a stupid
Mistake
She's the action you take
Over and over

You are a broken record
Player
I'm worth more than your lie
Worth more than a good lay
I know the words to this song
Keep singing
But I'm long gone.
Wrote this on my phone , which happens to have atrocious auto correct. Feel free to tell me if you spot any mistakes .
Lexi Nov 2017
Bob
Bob is my darkest shadow and only friend.
Bob is sometimes a bully that when I'm in bed at night sits on my chest making me feel as if im suffocating.
Bob makes me think things which --give it time-- I will believe.
Bob is the reason that I push people away and lie my *** off so even the most stubborn ones will leave.
Bob is also the reason I have one hand on my stomach clutching at the skin as if somehow that will make my stomach stop twisting and closing in on itself. The other hand on my mouth trying to muffle the sounds of my sobbing and the gasps as I run out of air and start choking on my tears.
Bob is my depression.
Bob is in no way my friend. But I can't get rid of Bob.
I finally got the courage to read this to my mom cuz this explains what I'm feeling n what's going on in my head and she changed the subject cuz she felt uncomfortable. Sooo now I post it. Poetry is my self harm and you guys are the endorphins.
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