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lex Jul 2017
A strange quiet feel
is felt

Over the afternoon showers,
the rain hitting the sunroof
and the silence that fills the air.

It is felt with caution,
only because fear is what evokes it.

You can hear the muffled television
speaking from downstairs,
and the rain,
falling lightly on the windows.

But this is what causes the silence.
Noise.

Noise causes silence.
Silence causes fear.

And fear,
is what is felt.
lex Jul 2017
You tell me things
Things I don't even believe
You tell others
rumors
that aren't even true
and you,
you criticize me
for being me.

And I've had enough.
Everyone around us,
they may side with you,
but I am still,
still furious,
still relentless.

Everyone only asks how I'm doing
because of what you did to me.
You,
you turned everyone against me,
and they're criticizing me
for being me.

And I've had enough.
Everyone around us,
they may side with you,
but now, someone's with me.
And soon,
the whole school will be too.

You tell me we can work it out,
but I don't need someone like you
anymore.
This poem is based on a movie called Odd Girl Out.
  Jul 2017 lex
Kurt Philip Behm
What mountains have you climbed
What valleys have you fallen into
How many hearts have you broken
How many lies have you told
How many days have been wasted
How many sorrows have been shared
How many promises have been made
How many strangers did you love

What mountains have you climbed
What valleys have you fallen into
How many deserts have you roamed
How many times have you been lost
How many friends can you count on
How many enemies still fear you
How many lines need to be written
—to finish this song

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2014)
lex Jul 2017
I'd write out my feelings,
but I'm not sure if I can feel at all anymore.
  Jul 2017 lex
Allyssa
I wonder how many times you have climbed into a tub and thought,
"Wow maybe I could drown in hopes of escaping my life."
I dont know how many of you have thought that but let's just say a few.
One: I step into the tub with my left foot and the water is immensely warm.
Downing pills couldn't be that bad right now.
Maybe I could grab the bottle without anybody noticing.
I wonder if I could make my own concoction of medicine would suffice.
Concoction is a funny word.
Two: I step in with my right foot and everything is tingling from the heat.
If I charge my phone from the plug over there by the sink,
Could I electrocute myself?
I wonder how bad electrocution hurts.
Deep fried food would be nice right now.
Three: I sink into the tub and pull my knees to my chest.
if I lay back now and fight myself from breathing,
Could I do it?
I wonder how long it takes somebody to drown themselves in a tub while fighting their instinct to survive.
I could adapt and grow gills.
Four: I lay back into my tub and watch the water rise.
The water is warm and my body is heavy.
I can't **** myself because my headstone will be something sad,
My funeral will play music I'll hate listening to as a ghost,
People I don't even know will show up.
What if my ex shows up?
Five: I sink lower into the water until I can no longer hear clearly and it tickles the side of my eyes.
What's the point in breathing.
Breathing is so weird.
Why do I have to maintain a body that's going to die anyways?
I wonder what dying feels like.
Six: I've been in here for an hour. Maybe I should get out.
This water has turned mildly lukewarm.
I'd like to stay but I'm getting kinda cold and I like the warmth.
Could I just empty half and add more hot water?
I am sitting in a pool of my own dirt.
Great.
Seven: I'm climbing out while simultaneously pulling the stopper.
Theres so many different ways to say that you or somebody is dying;
Kick the bucket.
Pull the plug.
One foot in the grave.
Bite the dust.
Croak.
Some of them are kinda funny.
Eight: Realizing that I love baths but hate the thoughts that come with the quiet bathroom.
I'm exhausted.
The mental kind of exhausted.
Can I stop now?
Can I just lay down and close my eyes?
My anxiety is overworking me.
Nine: I open my door with a stiff towel and a cold room.
I love the quiet but the quiet kills.
I love my mind yet the way it works is poisonous to me.
Ten: Nothing.
Sitting.
Alone.
In my empty bedroom.
Yeah, that's a long title. No, it's not exactly a poem.
lex Jul 2017
Every time my mother tells me
"Go outside, talk to people"
I oblige, saying I will.
But the screen in front of me
is relaxing.
It holds music, silence, sadness, happiness.
Sure, it may be a measly electronic device,
but it's just occurred to me
that my friends are this device.
People I've met on here,
people I've known.
I can access them at any time in the world.
And it may be destroying our social interactions,
but don't you think
our social interactions are on here, Mother?
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