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Liana Jan 9
I wonder
What would happen
If people I knew saw my work

I think
My friends
Would be shocked
At what goes on in my head

And that my mom would cry
Both proud and sad

And my dad would either **** himself
Because he hates himself even more now
Deny and call me crazy
Or get mad

Sometimes I debate
Whether or not to show people

Sometimes
For the less personal poems
I show my mom
And she says
How I can try to publish them

Though I know they're not good enough
And that they might never be
Sometimes I wonder
What would happen
If I did
And they would read them

I hope that they won't
Completely change their opinion of me
That I've so carefully sculpted
And made sure was okay

The book probably called
"Silent Screams"
Wouldn't be so silent anymore
I know that my work isn't publishing material, at least for now, but one can wonder.

(This not was written by a fortune teller that tells everyone they will die. It's right as long as they were once alive. His name was penongolo)
Liana Jan 9
Day after day
Alone on a hill
The girl with the fake smile
Is keeping perfectly still

But nobody wants to know her
They can see she's weird

And no matter how hard she tries
She can't be the way they are

But the girl with the fake smile
Sees the tear a boy in math tries to hide because
"Boys don't cry"

And what looks like a stare into space by that person who sits in the back
But what she knows is just her reliving something bad

But day after day
On that hill where she watches
The girl with the fake smile
Waits for someone else to see
That the hill she's on all alone
Is one of misery
Inspired by "Fool On The Hill" by the Beatles

(This note was written by scribbles you drew on a paper when you were younger. You thought that they were art then. Then you grew up some more and decided that they weren't. Then you grew up more and realized they, and that it made you feel something.)
Liana Jan 9
Running
Back
And forth
Reach the line

I'm not that bad out of shape
But still struggling

Throat burning
Head pounding as if there's someone trying to bang their way out
And lungs desperately fighting for air

I give up...

I sit down when I reach the line
And try to catch my breathe
Instead of running back

Chest rising and falling
With each gasp for air

Oxygen
Why do you hate me?
Lungs,
Why aren't you working?

Coughs hurt my throat
And make me weak

I take my inhaler
But it isn't working
It's just making me shaky

Panic rising inside me

I can't breathe
I can't breathe
I can't breathe

I take another puff
And wait
1
2
3
4
5
...
Breathe out
And couch violently

I'm going to die
I'm going to die
I'm going to die

No one notices
(this note was written by headphones that plays trombone as if it was a flute)
Liana Jan 8
Being your kid
Is like being in the deep end of the pool
With no swimming knowledge
And just the hope you'll hold me up

And you do
Sometimes
But then you push me under
I can't breathe
And whe world gets all fuzzy

Just when I think it's over
And I've decided that you're bad
You pull me up for a breath
And I hope you let me stay that way
But before I finish that thought
My mouth is full of poisonous water again

What if I would rather
You just let me sink?
(this kite was written by a color we can't see that's the most beautiful. She is like many people.)
Liana Jan 7
Doctor said
I just need rest

Came back a year later
Still messed up in the head

Doctor said
Just drink more water

Came back two years later
After I took a test and it said I was depressed

Doctor said
I'd be fine
I just needed a therapist

Came back one year later
After 4 of them
Not feeling the best

Doctor finally said
There's a problem
And set me up with a psychiatrist
To give me meds

I hope I won't need to come back again
Not a fan of my doctor

(This note was written by a backpack named zamarthadero that only was willing to hold hot pink clarinets that ate avocado ice cream)
Liana Jan 7
I remember a teacher telling my mother
That I was
"One sweet cookie"
And she was right

My father was the scorching tea

He grabbed from my comfortable bag
Loved me in his
"Unique way"
Left me soft
Feeling like it was finally olay
Then
Took a big bite
With his ***** mouth
And broke me

And after all of that
He thinks he can just buy a new pack

How wrong
Can he be...
(this note was written by a pasta noodle so big it could fit 100 people. They would eventually give in and eat it through. It was sad for the noodle.)
Liana Jan 7
So mad at myself
Completely freaked out
Fighting back tears
How could I forget
I can't fail this
This counts as a test
Crap

I just forgot piece of paper
A stupid
Important price of paper

I need to go to the bathroom
Get out of class
I can't let myself have an anxiety attack here
Now
But my teacher banned bathroom visits
Too many kids vaping

I ****
I can't fail English
I won't
It's my best subject
AHHHH

I repeat in my head
A grade is a grade is a grade is a grade is a grade is a grade is a grade is a grade is a grade
It's not that big of a deal
But my stupid amygdala decides otherwise

I even can't focus on the parts I can do anymore
I feel dead
I'm done

Close chromebook
Dig nails into my hands
...
Ow
...
I deserve it

Red lines appear

Open favorite poetry book
Absorb words
May be heartbreaking
But
In a different way---
I don't feel alone

Soon enough
The buzz of the bell releases me
To a new hell
More like a story than poem but whatever

Also, the amazing book I'm talking about is "Save Me An Orange" by Hayley Grace. I feel so understood when reading her work. I relate to so much of it.

(This kite was written by the crazy ocol and colorful pair of socks that you don't wear but should wear in public.)
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