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Alexie Bowden Mar 2016
Who is to say that you can’t rule the world?
The most feared teen is one with a voice.
One who can stand confident with hair curled,
And be self-reliant in every choice.

Even if you dream in sugar and not spice,
Stand up, let every thought you have be heard.
Don’t get stuck in a fake fool’s paradise.
Don’t conform to standards, be a firebird.

People will try to extinguish your flame.
You have to find the will to keep burning.
Do not let them threaten you with any shame.
Make them question all they have been learning.

Stand like a tree and make your voice reach skies.
Be the entire world’s angel in disguise.
Alexie Bowden Mar 2016
There once was a fool named Trump.
He thought he was cool, but he was really a grump.
He wanted to “make America great again”,
But he’s a migraine.
He belongs in the garbage dump.
Alexie Bowden Mar 2016
Sometimes I wish I could leave.
Disappear from everything, and everyone.
Get away from the people who were once so close.
We're not even really family anymore.
Just individuals who live in the same house.
Not really sure the terms for that, but I've narrowed it down to:
Family now acquaintances.
We used to be so close, so we'll assembled.
Like a puzzle fit perfectly together.
Now all we do is fight.
Something broke our perfect creation.
We fight over the simple things, over sad things, over complicated things, & even over things that are supposed to make us happy.
We fight.

She yells, He yells, I yell.
She cries, He cries, I cry.
I'm sure my neighbors think we're crazy. Or maybe that everyone inside my house are violent abusive people. Though, they probably could care less. Which I'm okay with.
The fighting wouldn't be so bad if it didn't happen all the time.
Those are the moments disappearing becomes more of a reality than merely a dream.
I wish it was as easy as blinking.
Disappearing would be so natural, so calm & undisturbed. Like the way I find tranquility in sleeping.
It seems to be the only time I can get away from what is so bad in the world, in my house, in my mind.

Disappearing.
Otherwise known as the act of leaving without a single trace of evidence left behind.
No way to track a living soul.
All signs of existence washed away.
No one knows where you are, or what you're up too.
Maybe you'll finally cross through their minds, maybe you won't.
No more fighting. No more crying. No more pain. No more hurt.
Complete solitude.
Nothing can compare.
As She gazes into my eyes, Hers began to sob.
She says "I promise. This is the last time".
Her promises mean nothing more than the overuse of I love you.
She says it as if she's never spoken these seven words before.
Yet, she wonders why my mind cries out for help knowing no one can hear it's screams.
She wonders why I became so distant so quickly. As if, being three inches apart physically and mentally is too much space.
Her laughs depress me. My frown fears Her smile.
I can't help but know I'm being selfish. As if, I'm ruining everyone's happy ending.
Once Upon A Nightmare.
"Two months." She says. "Only two months". Another argument breaks out.
She can't wait to get out of this hell-hole.
As though, multiple three-headed canines guard the gates, which are meant to be forever shut.
Tearing people apart, and eating them inside out from the moment they step foot indoors.

Disappearing.
It would be easier than having to start all over, than having to sit through another argument. Knowing I'm only going to be found guilty.
It's easier than being here.
Enclosed in this world, inside my house, trapped in my mind.
If I could fade into the dimension between life and death, overriding all rules of time, and space.
It would be blissful. No more arguments. No more pain. No more tears.
My happiness, an eternal feeling I'd never shake.
"Two months is not long enough." I say.
There is is still much left to do, people to meet, and goals I have yet to accomplish.
Two months is not nearly enough time.
She says "Two months is all the time you have."
And with that, another argument breaks out.
Disappearing.
The act of leaving without a single trace of evidence left behind.
Alexie Bowden Mar 2016
You giant bowl of noodles.
You basket full of emotions.
You disease filled vermin.
You memory hoarding squirrel.
I used to hate you.
You gave me anxiety,
And told me I’d have to live with it.
You always need everything to be perfect,
And you can’t rest when it’s not.
You over-think every situation until you’re dying
From an overdose on stress.
Oh, thought creator and keeper.
Oh, decision maker.
You have thought of every word that passes through my lips.
You have dreamt every best and worst nightmare.
You have conceived my finest and lowest poems.
You have fantasized every dark intention and every bright light.
You socially acceptable being.
You waterfall of brain.
I apologize for never noticing how much you do for me.
I apologize for never seeing you for what you are:
A hot tub words sit in ‘til they’re scorching.
A fantasy the dreamer never wakes from.
  Dec 2015 Alexie Bowden
Marissa
The look in your eyes
when you look at me
fills me with ice and mice
that feed
on my inside out
heart of stone
that was carved and and broke
to fit a mold
All Girls Like Me
colored hair, only smoke to breathe
have death in site
cuts ready to bleed
but if I could stare like this for even one minute more
my black inside
could break to the floor
the black will fade to a light shade of grey
then lighter and brighter
the longer I stay
you talk about pasts and
how things have changed
how I might have been hurt
but I’m not so deranged
I say “I’m not as great as I may seem.
my insides are dark. black the only color scheme”
“that's not true” you say holding my face.
“you’re more than that. there's no black in your space”
I disagree up and down
I can’t tell you how often I drown
in my heart and mind
I’ve been dead for years
how long it's been
since I’ve shed any tears
but since this heart of mine
met yours
I see all sorts
of open doors.
I hope one day to find
what color you see
for my broken mind
All Girls Like Me
are meant to run
but what should I do
now that that's no fun?
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