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Hazel Hirsch Aug 2017
She's always Watching.
Always out the window.
She is Pretty.
People stare.
She's Afraid,
Always keeps her face straight.
Her deep blue eyes glazed over.
Always in Another World.
People don't Laugh and Whisper,
They Don't Understand.
They Don't Know.
Hazel Hirsch May 2017
I like using glue when I am sad.
I like painting my arms with the white, sticky substance.
I like letting it dry.
I like seeing the white turn clear.
I like feeling how hard and sure my arms feel when they are coated in this shield.
I like touching how it wrinkles when I move my arms.
I like tugging it off like dead skin.
I like ripping off large pieces at a time.
I like collecting the scraps I pull off in a pile.
I like pretending that I'm peeling off every flaw of mine.
I like acting as if, when I'm done removing it, everything will be better.
I like noticing how difficult it is to grab onto the dried glue.
I like how it pains to remove it.
I like how red my arms are.
I like using glue when I am sad.
Because sometimes removing sadness does hurt.
  May 2017 Hazel Hirsch
Robert Zheng
I like mandarin oranges
I like the way they taste
I like they way they look
I like how they fit in pockets
I like their straightforwardness
I like that they are easily segmented
I like how easily shared they are with others
I like how I can hold a few in my hand at once
I like the feeling when I peel it all in one long peel
I like running my thumb under the skin as I peel it
I like the way they make my hands smell afterwards, orange-y
I like how people seem mildly impressed when I am finished peeling
I like folding the skin back into its original sphere like I never peeled it at all
I like when people play along when I give it to them even though they know it’s just skin
I like putting the peel on my head like hat or fake hair and pretending it’s normal
I like pinching the peel and looking at the little spray of citrus
I like ripping the peel up into little, tiny, itty-bitty pieces
I like having that little orange pile on my desk
I like knocking the little green ****** off
I like chewing on the big pieces of pith
I like looking at the word pith
I like saying pith, pith, pith
I like mandarin oranges
My way of celebrating mental health awareness month. Or making myself seem like a serial killer. One or the other~
Hazel Hirsch Nov 2016
                                                ­                                                                 ­   Yes.
Do you ever miss
          Who I
     Used to be?
                                                             ­           I have to accept who you are
                                                             ­                        Regardless.

You didn't answer
       My question.
                                                       ­                              I don't miss anything.

I miss
    I used
To be.
Hazel Hirsch Oct 2016
Pebbles of Thought make ripples in my Mind.
A clear blue lake, my Mind is.
Pebbles they drop,
Maybe today I'll go pebble skipping.
Hazel Hirsch Sep 2016
Dust on my
Just brush it off
A night of peace
A galaxy of blown stars.
An attempt at an imperfect perfection.

But I wipe it away, anyway.
My constellation is too dangerous
for Anyone Else.

So I **** my night heaven with light pollution,
And diminish my stars.
And I'm just a canvas
A Blank,
Now, look what we've done.
Hazel Hirsch Aug 2016
I used to think I was Cold.
Distant, Untouchable.
I used to think I didn't care what they said--
Until they did.

I forgot it's too late.
I know I was wrong.
But hey,
              I'm not sorry.

I started out young,
And dumb--
Blinded by These Bright Lights.

My last tumble down the rabbit hole:
I swore; Never Again
But You came,
And I broke.

I met you and Alice pushed me down,
                                                           ­  Down,
                                                           ­    down.

I was the Mad hatter;
But I didn't notice.
Blinded by These Bright Lights.
You Left.

Alice awakens me from my dream
And I'm left sorry--
For the things I haven't seen.
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