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 Apr 2014 apathy
Emma S
Whenever I think I've forgotten you
I get nightmares
It might sound sad
But nightmares makes me think of you
You would make me feel safe
After waking up being so scared
That I wouldn't know what to do
You would comfort me
Always

Whenever I feel like I'm over you
A nightmare visits me
Reminding me of the fact that nothing
In this world will make me forget you
Not completely
So when she shows up in my dreams
The only thing I can think about
Is how I don't dare to move
Or open my eyes
Or breath
I can only think of you
And try to fall back to sleep again
I'm writing because I'm hoping that maybe you will find me
 Apr 2014 apathy
Emma S
What I write is not poems
It's not fancy words that I can't spell
It's not sentences that will matter

I can't write poems
I write when I have to
I'm not trying to make it perfect
It's just
Me pouring bits of my heart out
It's me sharing my weakness
It's me showing my true feelings

It's not poems
It's me being honest
I write when I'm sad
I write when I'm drunk
I write when I feel the words flow
I write when I'm inspired
I write when I feel no hope
I write when I'm angry
I write but it's not poems

So maybe I'm a waste of space
But I like being here
I like reading what others go through
I like sharing what I go through
Sometimes it's good things
But most of the time it's things
I'm too scared to say but brave enough to write down for people to read

It's not poems
It's just me
 Mar 2014 apathy
i
blink
 Mar 2014 apathy
i
blink once
you have everything you need,
blink twice
the person you love
the most is next to you,
blink thrice
your love is slowly
distancing away from you,
blink four times
everything you had is now
gone,
blink five times
you're watching as your happy
life is slowly turning
into a dull one,
*and you can do nothing to
change it,
this poem is about
how time flies and that life is short,
because with the blink of an eye,
your whole life can change.
 Feb 2014 apathy
maybella snow
dull my eyes
as I slide into a room
glance for exists
windows and doors
my feet never fully
leave the ground anymore
I know I won't fly
that is until the light
is completely gone
if my hands shake
anxiety levels double
look down, hide face
it's okay no one cares anyway
tears fall none the less
I'm tired
 Feb 2014 apathy
maybella snow
I wonder if you ever remember the nights
where all I did was listen to you breathe
and no nightmares came

I don't remember what it's like anymore
to feel at peace with a human, comfortable
because I want to cover myself in scars
so maybe I can finally toughen up
and get use to no one wanting
or loving me
 Feb 2014 apathy
AJ
Stupid white girl.
We are not allowed to do anything.
We're prim and proper, white girls.
We are not allowed to fight back.
Put us in our place, white girls.
We are not allowed real work.
We still want our twenty three cents back.

The child of fair skin and blue eyes.
But with all my female privilege,
Came a nasty stamp on my body.
Like a watermark.
FEMALE.
I have heard that when a woman looks in the mirror, she sees a woman.
But when a man looks in the mirror, he sees a human.

Even with that watermark, our pale skin is used as a canvas.
And everyone else has been handed the tools to color in our curves.
Covering us in blue and black and purple and red.
Redrawing our minds so they cannot process the discrimination,
Painting over our tears so our feelings can be buried,
Manufacturing open legs when you want them,
Closed when you don't.
Erasing the lips we use to speak out,
Erasing the eyes we use to see all of this.

You think just because you held the brush,
Just because you created this monstrosity of a "masterpiece"
You get to claim ownership of this piece of artwork
That you blatantly disregard
Is my BODY.

The "fe" you tack onto "male"
Does not stand for Free Entry.
The "wo" you tack onto "man"
Does not stand for Wipe Out.

Women are barely able hold a pencil.
I was lucky to hold one long enough to draw myself
A conscience, a backbone, legs to stand on, and a mind.
We were only taught how to use the back end of that pencil
To erase our mouth and keep the secrets.
But these days the secrets are keeping themselves.

I will not be put in a glass case
You will not charge admission
To have people come and analyze me.
Buy me.
Give me value.
Categorize me.
Preserve me the way you created.

You are no artists.
You are vandals.
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