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I know I’m meant to feel like the world is an oyster I have yet to crack, like the guts and savory things of life lie just beyond this seemingly impassable barrier of youth.

I am meant to love myself to love others, expected to be grown up but humble; for I am a child in a room full of adults whose legs are trees and I am a sapling not tall enough to reach the rays of sunlight that are experience and wisdom. But how am I to grow if you keep me in the shade. When will I be tall enough if you starve me with words of discouragement, deny me the promise that something lies beyond the world I know now. How will I ever reach for the skies when you tell me this is the best it gets. That I should be grateful for the lack of responsibility I have.

“Oh hush little sapling, you know nothing of the world beyond this grove.” But I know what it feels like to have storms sweep through, I have felt lightning on my skin as I witness injustice, and shameful rain as I stay rooted to the ground. I beg of you let me through! Part your branches so I may shoot forward into the sky, sing me songs of luck as I climb higher and higher, no longer sapling but great redwood, my skin may grow rough but I will grow richer; in all the things one needs for happiness. Rich in love. Rich in passion. Rich in character and empathy.

I will relish those savory things of life as they spill out before me, work to catch them before they are swallowed up by the unfortunate decomposition that happens to all missed opportunities.

And when you are tired and sunburnt, let me give you shade as you gave me, a great redwood child holding the sun up with her branches and the world down with her roots.
my first time was in his bed
this senior that i knew
he said he was a ******
i knew it wasn’t true
he carried me to his room
trying to be romantic
it just made me more nervous
telling me im pretty would've been a better tactic
he said he would go gentle, but he got carried away
it was the worst pain i ever felt
afterwards he just let me lay
there sore and feeling broken
i’m sure you can guess that ever since, we’ve barely spoken
it was a rough night
I can not fight back
I won’t listen when they tell me that
I can do this,  i can rebel, i can reach freedom.
Is something i don’t believe in but instead i trust
Is useless, what enlightens the mind is
“Long live big brother”
I say, and  I refuse to believe
We don’t need  a leader that controls our perception of information
Do not try to  
The population needs to
Trust that
The leader knows what’s right
Its naive to assume
I can fight back
read top to bottom, then bottom to top, opposite messages will be revealed
  Jul 2018 a lion hearted girl
you wear your depression
as a mask of undeniable normality-
don't say you're messed up.
it carves wells beneath your eyes,
streaks your face with a natural glow,
weighs down your heart
so you don't fly away to the stars...
away from us-
don't tell me it steals your beauty.
it keeps your pen going
during those early mornings
after all the caffeine
has run out
and your mind can no longer battle
the long, black fingers of sleep
grasping for you-
don't write any more society-approved lies.
it leaves art on your skin,
whether it be permanent
or with assorted colors of paint,
that tell stories,
your stories,
without words.
no longer hide the battles you've fought-
don't let others scorn your victories.

you are a masterpiece,
you are perfection.
don't let this depression
own you,
but become more than it.
please share with whoever you think needs to hear this, stay strong my fellow poets, without you we lose not only a unique perspective, but a unique, beautiful person<3
i don’t like myself
i don’t like that i just give myself up for a sliver of his attention
a sliver of affection
a second of his eyes on mine and then he’s gone again
“once he’s seen me this way he will only see me this way”
my inner voice pleads
but what my insecurity needs
my dignity cannot supply
so i lie in the bed i made
i’m going to tell you a secret.
i am a cosmic child with a heart made out of rose petals and lead.
hair that’s made of woven stardust flows atop my head
my lips are dark like an apple, a seductive shade of red
my laugh is not a laugh, it is a song instead
and when I fall asleep, i use a cloud as my bed
but if you were too love me…….
well i think you’d be happier dead.

— The End —