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 Feb 2018 sar
alexa
you will never be forgotten.
ever.
your name twisted into metaphors and colors and distractions will forever
be painted across pages and pages of her favorite brand of notebook,
no matter how many she burns
there will always be one she forgot,
and she will only find it once she had almost forgotten you.
she will find the one Papyrus notebook
and all of your metaphors and colors and disractions will come flooding back,
just like how the ocean in your eyes
flooded her heart all those years ago.
 Feb 2018 sar
Phoenix
You told me nobody wants you.
When did that happen?
I want you,
but I don’t see where I became
“nobody”.
I mean,
in my eyes I’m somebody.
In my eyes I’m somebody
likable and funny…
but I am pretty stupid.
And I mess up a lot.
But I am definitely not
“nobody”.
So when you tell me that nobody wants you, that-
that hurts!
Cause I don’t see how you can say that when someone is there
looking out for you every day,
because they care about you very,
very much.
I am not
“nobody”
so never say nobody wants you.
Because I want you.
And I’ll fight for you every day,
just say the word.
I think about you every day,
I wonder how you’re doing because I-
I can’t be there with you
all the time!
But that doesn’t mean I’m
“nobody”.
This is a poem I wrote for my friends, but it's also a vent.
 Feb 2018 sar
Jessy
(the truth)
 Feb 2018 sar
Jessy
I’m happy
(I’m depressed)

I love myself
(I hate myself)

I can’t wait to live my life
(I can’t wait to die)

I am lucky to have my friends
(why do they even like me?)

I have a family who loves me
(and I continue to disappoint them)

I am an excellent student
(I can’t focus in school)

I want to travel the world
(will I even live to do that?)

I’m fine
(I’m not fine)

I’m perfectly okay
(please help me)
 Feb 2018 sar
Cana
If every poet who wrote a love ballad
Sought out another.
Then my friends.
We would have no lonely hearts.
No anxious stomachs.
No panicked pulses.
 Feb 2018 sar
Bo Burnham
Gypsy
 Feb 2018 sar
Bo Burnham
On a Wednesday morning, clear and calm,
                     I went to Astor Place
and had a gypsy read my palm
                     or maybe just my face.

She said my heart was heavy
                     and my head was stuffed with lies.
But things like that weren't on my hand,
                     they hid behind my eyes.

The room is dull and dank and cold but at
least I have a hand to hold.
 Feb 2018 sar
weirdodarling
Quenched
 Feb 2018 sar
weirdodarling
Tilted hips
Hungry lips
Deep breaths
Papery gasps


One finger
*******
A whimper of pleasure
Pleading for a requitement

— The End —