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Jun 2015 · 750
Wouldn’t It Be Wonderful
Angelica Lemburg Jun 2015
I hope you fall in love
With someone who always texts back and never lets
You fall asleep thinking you’re
Unwanted.
I hope you fall in love with someone
Who holds your hand during the scary parts of
Horror movies and burns
Cookies with you when you’re
Too busy dancing around the
Kitchen.
I hope you fall in love with
Someone who sees galaxies in your eyes
And hears music in your
Heartbeats.
I hope you fall in love with someone who
Tickles you and makes you smile
On hard days and on easy
Ones.
But beyond all that I hope
You fall in love with someone
Who will never leave you behind
And who will never take you
For granted, someone who
Will stand by you when you’re
Right and stand by you
When you’re wrong,
Someone who has seen you at your worst
And has loved you
Still.
I hope you fall in love
With someone who
Kisses you in the rain
And hugs you in the cold and
Wouldn’t have you any other
Way.
-Anonymous
Angelica Lemburg Jun 2015
she’s tied to nothing but her own self,
and that’s what she’s trying to run away from
she smashes face with older men who taste like bitterness and beer,
she’s loving girls in bedroom closets; and
burning little boys with death stare rejection
she’s never been held in arms that shake,
in arms that tremble from her touch
she’s never been chest to chest with a heart that beats for her
she’s never been kissed back with love, only lust
she’s never held a hand that didn’t hold on too tight
she’s never had a mama that didn’t drink, or a daddy that didn’t cheat… she’s got one hand on the steering wheel and another on his knee,
she’s too afraid to ask him, “come along with me.”
cause no one has ever stayed, she’s only been the girl for the night,
the best friend who’s love didn’t feel right
so she drives him home and follows him through the door,
she’s going to try to forget herself a little more
-anonymous
May 2015 · 1.1k
Her Last Words
Angelica Lemburg May 2015
Just an average girl
She always wore a smile
She was cheerful and happy for a short while
Now she's older, things are getting colder
Life's not what she thought, she wishes someone had told her
She told you she was down, you let it slip by
So from then on she kept it on the inside
She told herself she was alright
But she was telling white lies
Can't you tell? Look at her dull eyes
Tried to stop herself from crying almost every night
But she knew there was no chance of feeling alright
Summer came by, all she wore was long sleeves
'Cause those cuts on her wrists were bleeding through you see
She knew she was depressed, didn't want to admit it
Didn't think she fit it, everyone seemed to miss it
She carried on like a soldier with a battle wound
Bleeding out from every cut her body consumed
She had no friends at school, all alone she sat
And if someone were to notice she would blame the cat
But those cuts on her wrist, they were no mistake
But no one cared enough to save her from this self hate
Things were going down, never really up
And here she is now stuck in this stupid rut
She knew exactly what she had to do next
Just stand on that chair and tie the rope around her neck
She wrote a letter with her hands shaking wild
"Look at me now, are you proud of your precious child?"
But she knew that her parents weren't the ones to blame
It was the world that should bow down it's head in shame
She stood up on the chair and looked out at the moon
Just don't think, it'll all be over soon
The chair fell down as she took her final breath
It's all over, all gone, now she's greeting death
Her Mum walks in, she falls down to the floor
And now nothing can take back what she just saw
The little girl that she raised is just hanging there
Her body's pale and her face is violently bare
She sees the note and unfolds it with care
All she does is stare, "How can this be fair?"
She starts reading as the tears roll down her face
"I'm sorry Mum but this world is just not my place
I've tried for so long to fix this and fit in
I've come to realise this world's full of sin
There's nothing for me here, I'm just a waste of space
I've got no reason to stay here with this awful race
It's a disgrace, I was misplaced
Born in the wrong time, and in the wrong place
It's okay though, 'cause you'll see me soon
You'll know when your time has come, just look at the moon
As it shines bright, throughout the night
And remember everyone's facing their own fight
But I can't deal with the pain, I'm not a fighter
You'll make it through the night, just hug your pillow tighter
So let the world know, that I died in vein
Because the world around me, is the one to blame
And I know in a year, you'll forget I'm gone
'Cause I'm not really something to be dwelled on
That's what they use to tell me, all those kids at school
So I'm going by the law majority rules
My presence on this earth is not needed any longer
And if anything, I hope this makes you stronger
You're the best friend, that I ever had
Such a shame I had to make you so very sad
But just remember that you meant everything to me
And to my heart, you're the only one that held the key
Now it's time to go, I'm running out of space to write
And yes I lost my fight, but please just hold on tight
I'm watching over you, from the clouds above
And sending down the purest and whitest dove
To watch over you, and be my helpful eye
So this is it world, goodbye."
-Courtney Parker
Apr 2015 · 487
Welcome To Society
Angelica Lemburg Apr 2015
Welcome to society,
We hope you enjoy your stay,
And please feel free to be yourself,
As long as it's in the right way,
Make sure you love your body,
Not too much or we'll tear you down,
We'll bully you for smiling,
And then wonder why you frown,
We'll tell you that you're worthless,
That you shouldn't make a sound,
And then cry with all the others,
As you're buried in the ground,
You can fall in love with anyone,
As long as it's who we choose,
And we'll let you have your opinions,
But please shape them to our views,
Welcome to society,
We promise that we won't deceive,
And one more rule now that you're here,
There's no way you can leave.
-Erin Hanson
Mar 2015 · 2.7k
Travel
Angelica Lemburg Mar 2015
i fear you
the boy who can make the moonlight whimsical
the sunshine sultry
he made a path for you in the sky so you could see
he made an upside down world

the rose of his lips are compass rose
his words directs you to the northern lights
compass lips move in warm circles
making the world spin on your flesh
so heavy you might be smashed

Its all a dream and the world was him
And he was the world.
The world made a path so you could see
Through whimsical moons and sultry suns
He had not made an upside down world
The world had made an upside down boy
It was because you have given him all the power of the world.

Ever since I realized this I have sat here with my compass crying
Knowing you were headed the wrong way
You don’t hear me over the sound of the wind
as you sail along on a sea of tears and blood
Because you said you loved travel

Its your third lap around the world
And I am chasing you
through sultry suns and whimsical moons
because somewhere on the ship of the upside down boy
is a hole and you see you’re sinking
I pray the sea of blood and tears wont drown you
if I just hold on to my compass

Eventually you will hate travel
You will hate the sea
You will hate the moon and sun.

I don’t fear him; I fear you.
I don’t blame you; I blame him
Because I love you
And you love him
And now the world really is upside down
-Grace Friesen
Nov 2014 · 1.2k
Piano Teeth
Angelica Lemburg Nov 2014
Maybe I am my own happening.
Maybe I am the beginning of the story,
before you walk in with your bad jokes
and your three years of silence
scattered across the turnpike.
I am trying to think about the moment
that I started crying, and I think it
was when I realized that all of my poems
were about you.
But maybe they weren’t.
Maybe I was just drawing you in between
the line breaks because I was lonely
and didn’t know how else to fill in the moments.
Maybe I am my own poem.
Maybe I am the reason my hands shake,
why I can’t say no to you even when
you aren’t asking me for anything.
Maybe I am the bad days.
Maybe I am my own sun.
Maybe I am in charge of my own undoing, of my own healing.
Who taught me to thank the ones
who didn’t want to stay?
Who taught me that you were something
to hurt about?
Maybe it was me.
I think it was.
Maybe I want to rest my tongue in
my own mouth and maybe I don’t
actually need anything from you.
I could be the moment it all started.
I could be responsible for the violins
in my throat, for the piano in
my teeth.
Maybe you were never the music in me.
Maybe I have always been singing.
-Caitlyn Siehl
Nov 2014 · 1.7k
One Fine Day
Angelica Lemburg Nov 2014
One fine day
    About midnight
Two dead soldiers
    Got in a fight.
Back to back
    They faced each other.
Drew their swords
    And shot each other.
A deaf policeman
    Heard the noise.
Came out and
    Killed the two dead boys.
If you don't believe
    This lie it's true.
Ask the blindman
    He saw it too.
Nov 2014 · 691
Parable of the Four-Poster
Angelica Lemburg Nov 2014
Because she wants to touch him,
she moves away.
Because she wants to talk to him,
she keeps silent.
Because she wants to kiss him,
she turns away
& kisses a man she does not want to kiss.

He watches
thinking she does not want him.
He listens
hearing her silence.
He turns away
thinking her distant
& kisses a girl he does not want to kiss.

They marry each other--
a four-way mistake.
He goes to bed with his wife
thinking of her.
She goes to bed with her husband
thinking of him.
--& all this in a real old-fashioned four-poster bed.

Do they live unhappily ever after?
Of course.
Do they undo their mistakes ever?
Never.
Who is the victim here?
Love is the victim.
Who is the villain?
Love that never dies.
Written By: Erica Mann Jong
Nov 2014 · 1.7k
The Open Man
Angelica Lemburg Nov 2014
There’s a man with a hole
that goes straight through his soul
and it’s open for all to see.

Just ask and he’ll tell
every joy, every hell,
and how it all came to be.

He will tell you unbidden;
no secret is hidden;
and he’ll speak with a gleam in his eyes

But he hides in the shells
of the stories he tells;
each story a cunning disguise.

It’s easy to heal
when all that you feel
is bared like a page in a book,

but the depth of a hole
in a broken man’s soul
depends on how deeply you look.

Each story’s a mask
with the ultimate task
of hiding the tears at the seams.

Tears in the heart
are bad for a start
but there’s nothing like tears in your dreams.
Written by: Mark Scherz

— The End —