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I live in a world,
where being alone in public is a fear,
I love to be alone
But, at school, without a friend
It’s basically a warzone,
Without a weapon, without a shield
And i hope you feel better
Cause no one else was here
And i’m so sorry
For doing the same to you…
But if you can,
Please come back,
I know its hard, but im all alone
One friend sick,
Another missing,
One at therapy,
And one gone to her home for school,
I guess today, i’ll be brave
Cause i'm alone, and it’s a sunny day
 Apr 2018 Ben Hickman
Alexandra
Put down the razor.
Take your fingers out of your mouth.
Drop the rope.
Put down the gun.

Wipe the tears away.
Pick up your head.
Put the crown back on.
Remember why your here.

Your wrists aren't paper.
Your size isn't a number.
Your life is a never ending story.
You're not temporary.
You can't just be thrown away.
You're a gift on earth.
You're blessed.
The past can be erased.
But you can't be replaced.

Words are skin deep.
Yeah, I know the road is steep.


There's a light at the end of the tunnel.
you just gotta get through your struggles.

Your wrists aren't paper.
Your size isn't a number.
Your life is a never ending story.
You're not temporary.
You can't just be thrown away.
You're a gift on earth.
You're blessed.
The past can be erased.
But you can't be replaced.

We all fear rejection at some level.
We all have a dance with the devil.

We're all in the same game.
Some are just a little more sane.

We all go through our crucibles.
But that's what makes life so beautiful.

Ooo, remember the past can be erased. it can be erased.
But darling you can't be replaced.
 Apr 2018 Ben Hickman
Kim
We're almost touching.
we were walking side by side,
you're talking about cabs in your hometown.
I can feel the gravity of your hand, calling my fingers
whispering "it's alright."

We're touching but not quite.
you held my shoulder to protect me from the passing cars.
and for the first time in a long while, I felt so fragile.
In this world where I find it hard even to breathe,
you believed me.

I almost said it.
All I need is one ounce of strength to tell you every single thing that I have ever felt about you.

I want to find home in your collarbones.
Would you be kind enough to let a stranger in?
I want to seep in your being because I'm cold.
The world is harsh and my cracks are aching.

Almost.
Please don't ever become a stranger,
whose laugh I can recognize anywhere.
 Apr 2018 Ben Hickman
zb
i haven't
felt like this
in a while.

carefree,
soft,
gentle-
letting my hair down,
feeling its softness.
doodling tiny feathered wings,
feeling the pen pull at
the skin of my forearm.
(three little hearts and a rose, too
when i think of you.)

i feel innocent again.
i forgot what it felt like.
i feel like the mistakes i've made
are in the past,
because you don't even know i've
made them.

my soul, the core of me,
is fluttering its wings
(the little wings
i drew on my arm)
and it feels-
small.
i do not know how else to describe it.
it doesn't feel small in the fact that
it could be easily trampled;
but small in that fact that
you could cup your warm, steady hands
around the bird that lives in my
ribcage
and remind me that everything's okay
because i trust you.
 Apr 2018 Ben Hickman
ali
gray
 Apr 2018 Ben Hickman
ali
i've run out of poetry,
and now all i'm left with
is gray.

gray surroundings,
gray people.
i'm lost in a world
that's lost in itself.

i can't find the words
to even say what i'm feeling,
because all i see is confusion
staring right back at me.

i'm in a room full of mirrors,
my own reflection
not appearing
because i've lost myself
in the depths of my thoughts.

someone,
please find me,
someone, anyone,
i'm gasping for air
that's not even there.

no one understands,
yet you're all here to listen.

there's only one problem.

i can't find the words-
i've run out of poetry.
my solution to having writer's block but also desperately needing to write at the same time
The salt envies my lips,
jealous of your tongue
when it wants more
longing for yours
craving slow soft moist caress

It melts in the sharedness,
sparkles in our breath,
a crystalline melt of desire
stretching the flavor in timelessness
fusing in sweet a figure of eight
of our tongues’ thirst

It speaks our secret language
teaching new grammar;
it weaves our thoughts in scarves
spilling cool ambrosia,
warm in our veins
... I didn't know there were ways to make the taste of salt last longer and softer... |)
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