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anon Sep 2017
And I don't know why
But over and over
I've watched this show

Yet over and over
I never get tired of it

I know the jokes

I know when they're coming

But that doesn't stop me
From loving every minute

And call me crazy
But I almost wish
I could be like that

Acting

Acting like I'm so close
To everyone around

Acting like I always know
Exactly what to say

Acting like the bad
Gets better before the end
Of a thirty minute show

And I really want you
To see that I
Am thinking
About how

If I
Could only

Act
Like them

I could act
Like we were more
Than what we are

And I could act
That when I've had a bad day
I don't need a hug
To tell me it's okay

But I can't promise that to myself

Because I think I can act
I've always wanted to act

I want to be an actress

I want people
To remember my name

I want to be
That actress
That little girls
And even boys
Everywhere
See

And they want to be

Just

Like

Me

But I know
That I can't brush everything aside
To make room for a mirage
That everyone sees
But me

Inside
I know
That's all I am
When I act

A mirage
That I can't see

But there is still
That spark
That burns through the night
That tells me to act
To smile
And laugh
Like everything is peachy

So I wave
I smile
I grin a lot
And beg myself to act

And even though
I want to know
If I can make it or not
I'll never

No never

Let my dream rot
And
I'll never

No never

Act like everything
Is A-okay
Because it's not

Sometimes

And I'm rambling
I just want to tell you
At this hour of night
You were on my mind
And I missed you

So when the couple onscreen
Made up
And kissed
And hugged
And cheered

I just wished that was us

And in my rambling mind
I acted like
It really was us
Because that's how much
I want you
Even more
Than I want
To care for myself

Because I'm secondary
Sedentary
Sidelined
...
Sad

A sad girl
Who looks at a screen
And dreams of tomorrow

Hoping I can be
And we can be
And I won't need
To

Act

Anymore
anon Sep 2017
I was reading
When I realized
From this book

We aren't
What we say
We are

We are so much more
Than numbers
Numbers on a scale
On a ruler
On a tape measure

More than numbers
On our clothing

But that's what
Everyone
Defines us by

They say we are percentages

We are only one
In seven billion

Why should anything
Go right

We have something
Every one in five gets

Why should we feel special

They say we are standards
Like clear skinned
Tan
Gorgeous

And brains don't matter
As long as we are
Clear skinned
Tan
And gorgeous

They say we are dollar signs

That those who are poor
Should not even
Glance their way

And those who are rich
Are
Always
Stuck up
And ******

That the brand
That costs less to make
But is mass produced
And more expensive
Is better
Than the cheap stuff we all wear

They say we are the change
This world needs

But they don't mean it

They mean
They want us to try
But they won't let us get near
The power

But that's not what we are

We aren't numbers

We aren't percentages

We aren't standards

We aren't dollar signs

We are stories
Passed down from people
Who knew
What they wanted us to know

Like the time
My grandma accidentally knocked
Her favorite and only doll
Into the hole in her outhouse

Or the time we all sang
As one
In a happy melody

We are memories
From times
And lifetimes
Past

We are stars and planets
Distant yet
Present
Bodies
So elusive
Thereby so intriguing

The only thing
We really want
Is to fly in stardust
And dance in a moonbeam

We are dreams
That maybe won't come true
But will give us the best adventure
When we find out
How to live them out

We are heartbeats
That beat at night

We are bugs
In this garden of life
Because without us
There would be no point

We are flowers
That tickle your nose
On a warm spring day
When you reach down
To smell its fragrance

We are shoulders
To cry on

We are roads
To walk on

We are smiles and laughs

We are childhoods

We are balloons and bubbles

We are winters

We are springs

We are summers

And we are falls

We are the heat
And we are the cold

We are the change
We want to see
In an upside down world
Only we can change

We are people on the corner
Begging for some coins

We are souls
Thirsting for reprieve

We are hearts
Trying to love as much as we can

We are sadness
And we are joy

There are things
We can see
And things we can't

But after everything
Every word
We speak

We are so much more
Than what they tell us
Day after day

We are the world
And this world
Is ours
So take it from someone
Who has been invisible her entire life
Until they berated the silence
Out of her

In words
That changed to sorrows

And hits
That turned
To beauty

Because she can be beautiful
In this
Crazy
Twisted
Yet absolutely stunning
Life
anon Sep 2017
And I have to change

Nobody understands me
They don't get it
They don't try to
It's just all
Or
It's nothing

I give so much
And get so little
When I back off
They back off more
When I go forward
They step backward

I feel like I should quit
Maybe I should give up
Stop trying
Become who I was

Quiet
Embarrassed
Careful
Shy

Didn't say hello
Didn't speak her mind
Just let everyone else
Dictate my every thought
But that's not who I am

I've changed
                                        
                                               They've changed

They should understand
I'm a new girl

It should be better
Not worse

I should be respected
Not ridiculed

So then what's happening
What left me like this

So alone
So afraid

That every time I try to sleep
I end up crying
I end up hurt
And they don't bat an eye
Because I changed

I'm harsh
I'm different

If I tried I'd be better
I could be

Quiet
Careful
Shy
Embarrassed

And maybe they would notice
That the strongest
Are the weakest
But they don't

So by playing the weakest
I am the strongest
I am stronger than they know
Stronger than they will ever be
Stronger than they think I am

But
I'm not
I'm not strong
I'm weak
I cry at five am
To forget everything they've done

I scream when I'm alone
To try and get back
Hoping that

Maybe

Hopefully

They will understand
They will hear me

Scream
And
Cry

And they will understand
That I've changed
anon Sep 2017
his eyes held tales i never had known
of worlds and ideas, creatures and such
i hadn’t pondered since i had grown
why did getting older come in that rush?

after looking in his storied eye
i’ll never regret saying hi

the first time we talked
it felt so perfect, so easy, so simple
the road of friendship we together walked
there was i greeted with his happy dimple

after looking in his storied eye
i’ll never regret saying hi

with trust and trust we soon grew
his wise young mind greeted mine
he trusted me with what was hard to construe
a world filled with all that would common shine

after looking in his storied eye
i’ll never regret saying hi

fairies, giants, ogres, even glowing bright flowers
all found in his world awaited me
smiles greeted me in droves and showers
their excitement and mine gave the boy great glee

after looking in his storied eye
i'll never regret saying hi

he brought me there whenever i’d wish
and guided me towards his favorite things
during which conversations would to me switch
for he said my voice gave him wings

after looking in his storied eye
i’ll never regret saying hi

there i was, his only hope
and in a way he was mine
our tie was tough like rope
and our conversations aged like wine

after looking in his storied eye
i’ll never regret saying hi

it was my fault that darkened day
i let myself forget his worrying head
i let him away from me stray
now due to me, a friend is dead

i’m sure after looking in my boring eye
the dead magic man wished i’d never said hi
anon Nov 2018
when the man that sexually assaulted me
laughed
because i said i was going to talk about ****** assault
i felt weaker than i
had ever felt
because suddenly
even though i knew what i wanted to say
and i knew i had a voice
i felt so little
and inconsequential
it was almost as though
he had stolen my voice
again
anon Oct 2017
find my poems
in a hundred years
and analyze them
as though they are written
in a foreign language
from a foreign time
full of foreign ideas
and words

analyze the way i say
i'm sad

"the darkness outside
spills into my empty room
on a body
wracked with sorrow
but too proud to cry"

analyze the idea
that everything i write
means something else
and i am not just
too lazy for prose

interpret me needing to talk
as me creating allusions

say to my face that when i said

"i'm happy"

it was sarcastic irony that reflected
my inner turmoil

analyze my poem
that is free therapy
to mean something
i wrote just for you

it speaks to you because
my word choice
was simple
every day

it speaks to you because
my alliteration is
totally
on purpose

it speaks to you because
literary terms
speak to you
more than some words
that meant

"i'm sad"

analyze me
and look past my struggles
that don't fit your agenda

analyze me

i am poetry

my soul is poured out
in each of these lines
each letter is me

so analyze me
like one of your french girls

make me beautiful

make me something that is
not
desperate poetry

make me you
be
anon Aug 2017
be
there are so many
letters
words
phrases
i want to write all over
my skin
so that maybe
just maybe
the bits of me
inside
might come outside
and show that i
in fact
am not a shell
not
just a body
with so much lost
and so little left
to lose

the thing is
we're all bodies
going through a day to day
like there's never anything wrong
like there's never been anything wrong
like there's never going to be anything wrong

but there's something wrong
with pretending
because it hides
the truth
from even yourself
you think you know everything
until it's early in the morning
late in the night
and you're screaming
crying
who am i
to no one
because no one is always there
and no one always listens
because no one cares

and we tattoo ourselves
with
letters
words
phrases
that mean something
so that when someone passes by
they just might see
who
instead of just a body
just a life
that can never be as complicated
as our own
because nothing is as good
as our own

our own
letters

our own
words

our own
phrases

that at least make us
some semblance
of own
some picture
of self
some symbol
of who

we are like nothing
until proven something
we are guilty as one of many
until innocent as individual

i want my name to adorn my forehead
so i can scream
i am here

i want your name on my lips
to whisper
i love you
like it's the one thing
you can always believe

i want alone pasted to my hands
as though
anyone can see
all the hands i've never held
and will never hold
and the holding i'll never get to do
by being
so
****
alone

i want a's grafted into my chest
because
once upon a time
i was told they define me
so if i ever
get ripped apart
they'll see
my worth
as a grade
90-100
a
a minus
a plus
a bit of self-worth
assurance i am worth it
approval of who

i want praise shaped into the thinning skin of my stretch marks
because
there should be
no reason
to give a ****
about the carefully placed
skin caterpillars
after all
as soon as they become butterflies
everybody loves
once more

i want feelings plastered on my legs
because i'd love for what
i hate
to be covered
in someone's love
even if only no one cares

i want to be covered
crown to toe
with visions of me
to make
self
and individual
out of
no one
the only one
who cares
anon Jan 2018
i am
legally blind
blind like the blindness of love
when you're driving in the summer,
windows down,
breathlessly scream-singing
the warm air almost stinging
and him
sitting next to you
his smile so bright it
blinds you to reality
and he puts his hand on your thigh
and you don't think about
the germs
or any logistics
you're just
thinking about him
and what you could be
and you don't want the summer to end
but you always remember
that it always
has to end

and you're blind in that car
unable to see the future
the end
anything but him
and the road
racing towards you and then
flying away
and the trees
chasing your car
without slowing
or stopping
and you're blind about the past
ignoring everything telling you
this won't work out either
because it's gone
puffing out the exhaust pipe
draining like the antifreeze leak
you've never bothered to fix

i am legally blind
i can't always see everything
and i realize that
but
when i'm with him
i can see everything
so clearly
i forget to remember
i can't even
see
anon Mar 2019
crying over a boy
introduces a new sadness
to your
nearly dry tear ducts

sure, you cry
over the bachelor
or a nicholas sparks
novel
but when the boy
is real
and tangible
losing him
hits
harder

you'd grown accustomed
to him
seeing him smile
watching his adam's apple
bob in his throat
when he laughed
hearing him sing
in the car
hearing him
breathe

he was alive

and you'd drop everything
when his name was the one
on your phone screen

you'd try to respond
as soon as you could
because then he could
respond
sooner

you weren't afraid
of running him off
because you knew
he would never leave

so when he did
you had to adjust

seeing someone
whose smile was
just barely
his
would break you

making your friends
laugh
but only wanting to hear
that strange and subtle
way
he would laugh

singing along to the radio
despite knowing
that he'll never know
the lyrics to your song
and you'll never
get to laugh about it
with him

breathing
even though
it hurts

even though he's gone
you still check your notifications
for his name

and you realize
maybe he ran away
because you
weren't worth the chase

and your boy tears
stain your face

revealing the patches
where your foundation
once was
anon Feb 2019
the way you breathe
how it sounds like you're always taking your first
and last breath

it's like you're gasping for air
but sighing
because you know it could all
stop
in an instant and you're okay with that

the way you breathe
fills my lungs
because i love breathing you in
feeling you
knowing you
you
anon Nov 2017
he grabbed my hand
in the freezing cold
our reddened skin holding each other's
and we sat there
clouds of breath
pulling us closer
to warmth
and it's

captivating

we skated across
scarred ice
our boots leaving trails
behind us
his hand holding mine
pulling me forward
and his rosy cheeks
are simply

captivating

he sits outside
on a now worn bench
the sun striking his eyes
turning his face to me
as the snow around melts
returning color to the world
and his gleaming smile
is suddenly

captivating

it's summer now
green surrounding
our seasoned selves
he looks at me
with childlike wonder
and the life around
glows
like the life within him
i can't help but find

captivating

he's left me
for nearly two years
now
and everytime i see a picture
a memory
a letter
a text
an email
a passing conversation
we used to share
the pain i'd buried
soon encompasses me
completely

captivating
anon Sep 2018
long before the days of the netflix
streaming services
people either had cable
on demand
or got netflix dvds
like a mail order
redbox

but i grew up
with public television
pbs
the the public broadcast station
filled with stories
and shows
that wanted to teach
while entertaining

liberty kids taught me history
while cyberchase showed me
math can save the world
when it's important
arthur allowed children
everywhere
to see that we all are equal
and we all can be friends
because everybody that you see
has an original point of view

and i say hey!
why have we abandoned
the important lessons
for the sake of entertainment

my little brother makes jokes
about logan paul
recording
and exploiting
a suicide victim

my little brother told me
he wants to be the next
bachelor
on abc

my little brother called me
a **

when i was nine years old
like he is
i asked my mom
for extra television time
so i could tune into
fetch with ruff ruffman
at 3pm
and see science
in action

i begged for a game boy
not for madden17
i read by the light
of a little reading lamp
not with a blue glowing light
exuding from a new samsung tablet

i'm not saying technology
is bad
or that we should
regress

i'm saying our children
our siblings
and maybe even our friends
are growing up ******* up

and we can change that
but we never do

i want to tell my children
dragon tales
dragon tales
not to turn off youtube before bed
i want children now
to learn before they even
enter a classroom
but i suspect that no one
will listen
or even stop
to care
anon Dec 2017
look
the thing is
i'm not a sociopath
i don't hate you
i'm not angry

no
i'm not a lesbian
or asexual
or something

i just

can't commit

my parents never taught me
what a healthy relationship
should look like
because they don't know

and so i've only ever been
wronged

and i need you to understand
that i like you
i think you're cute
and the way your hair
perfectly
complements your face
is beautiful

and oh my goodness
your laugh is
like
a tune
i could play for hours
and not get annoyed
or tired

but i know
that because i'm hurt

i might hurt you
by not
loving you
the way i should
and not
committing
to you
like you deserve
anon May 2018
and stare into my chest
never at my chest
never at my body
cut me open
and look inside
find my beating heart
touch with all the desire
you have trapped
within the walls of your own heart
cut me open
and stare at my ribs
my lungs
my gall bladder
my intestines
everything the world
cannot oversaturate
or sexualize
cut me open
and let me bleed out for you
let me show you
what's inside of me
I don't let anyone see
cut me open
and pull out parts of me
you want to keep for yourself
take my lungs that breathe
for you
my heart that beats
for you
my stomach that fills
with butterflies
whenever I look at you
cut me open
and plant flowers
in my chest
let them grow in me
like my love grows
for you
cut me open
anon May 2018
when we dated
i didn't know who i was
i knew who you were
and i liked it
but no matter what i told you
about me
no matter how much you
came to know
you never really
knew me
because i could never show you
who i was
since even i had
no idea

after you dumped me
i found myself
because i had the time
to focus on me
instead of us
and now i can see
that we were never really
meant to be
because i need a complement
like we are geometry
but with you
i had a congruent shape
that only sat with me
instead of making me whole
anon Nov 2017
I don’t mean to alarm you
But I am dying
I’ve been dying for awhile
And I hope that when I go
I join the ranks of the greats

Robin Williams
Audrey Hepburn
Robert Frost
George Washington

Names everyone knows
Names I grew up admiring
Aspiring
Wanting
Wishing

Everything tries to be them
And falls flat
Probably because I’m dying
And when you’re dying
You aren’t as great
As you once thought

My jokes will never crack a smile
On the wrinkled
Cavernous face
Of Mr. Robin Williams

My beauty lies inside
Since I lack the seraphic
Elegant
Graceful
Beauty of Audrey Hepburn

My words are mere letters
Where they could be scars
And stars
Like Robert Frost

I lack courage
I lack leadership
Greatness finds victims aside me
Leaving me
Always one step behind
George Washington and his armies

Bet he keeps those armies in his sleevies

I’m dying up here
Just like these sucky jokes

I’m dying here
From school
From work
Anxiety
Grades
And all the like

And I’m dying in here
From loneliness
Ostracization
Failure to complete
Lack of motivation

I’m dying here
Can’t you see
anon Mar 2018
the ground is cold
like the fire of my heart
that has dimmed since you
left

and the soil is soaked
with melting fragments
of you
and freezing cold reminders
of all i have
left

and spring is coming
new life
rebirth
but all i have
is the cold
fragments
of earth
and you
the only fragments
i have
left
anon Nov 2017
i have a question
are you

gay

or just

a hipster

i never can really tell
you dress the way
of either

your poetry
provides
no hints

you compliment
girls
and complement
their interests
and yet you never
date
any

yet you get along
with guys
and don't seem
to flirt
but i could
just have
a weak gaydar

so are you gay
or just a hipster

taking pictures
writing poetry
dressing well
and flowery

like oscar wilde
you're a dandy
and just like him
we don't know
your true love
identity

you could be gay
or just be
basic
liking dudes
(or dudettes)
before it was cool

so before you sip
your corporate
starbucks

riddle me this

do you like guys
or vinyl more

do you need a beard
or want a hipster beard

do you fancy testosterone
or organic cupcakes

are you gay
or just a hipster
anon Sep 2017
He comes by my house nearly every day
To court me, I’m sure, comes sandy-haired Mack
Again, I forget to ask if he’s gay…
At least I know tomorrow he’ll be back.

I am always the one to call him first
And sometimes he doesn’t even pick up
My parents think he and I are the worst
We cost much money and greet them with “’sup”

He’s only around for fleeting minutes
Leaving too quickly to suit my liking
For a few seconds in his car, he sits
I bet debating taking me hiking

I think I might love him, oh me, oh my
Beautiful pizza delivery guy
anon Mar 2019
i keep giving myself away
blocks of love
or trust
constantly leave my foundation

and sure
i get love or trust back
but i've given     so
            much
that no matter      how much i
      get
my.  foundation
remains
fra  gmen  ted

i          know  
     that           i'm too giving
but at the same   time
i can always
g i v e
      more

i will give until
i       b  r
e
     a
k
until i    f
                 a
                    l
                      l

no matter how many times
i give
and then break
i will never
stop
opening      myself
               up

to being broken again
anon Feb 2019
It is in the woods
In the world
That i may find peace
Whether resting on the banks of despair
Or wandering through a thicket of feeling
I come to find
Deep seclusion
That grants me thought
And while i may take pause
It is then
And then alone
That i am
Truly at peace
All this world has beauty
And it is i who finds
Great these scenes

I can feel it all within me
My blood courses through my veins
Akin the coursing river i pass by
It is not easy to acknowledge
But i often grant no thought
To the world around
Blind i am
And blind i remain
But in this world i am given
Tranquil restoration

Until i am dead and gone
No more flesh
No more bone
I will contemplate this world
These mountains
And rivers
Trees
And cliffs
For the great care that has been given it
Will be continued through me
And when i am but a soul
A spirit
Drifting
My harmony with the world
And serenity will
Carry on

But oh
Death
I deny it me
It cannot steal me
From my pleasure
I bask in creation
And all around me
The earth shakes with shivers
I know all too well
Until my thoughts are thoughts no more
I will hope the future
Will ask for me

I thirst
I thirst for what i do not know
What i cannot see
And what my eyes have recognized but my heart has not
The nature i lose myself in has caused me
To lose myself
I know not what i be
Or what i’ll be
But the times past are no more
And i weep for them

As a man i am curious
What lies beyond
The cries of fallen brethren
The sad harmonies that the animals we’ve displaced
Escape their bodies
They mourn
And so do i
I am
Compelled
To tell their stories
To sing their songs
In a major key

I am a slave to it
The world i’ve ignored
I need not the society
I abandoned up the road
Nature has stolen my heart
My thoughts
My life
My me

I catch a glimpse
Of who i was
The things i once found true
And i shudder
For mother nature was not
And is not greedy
She cares for her children
In ways i could never understand
It brings her joy to raise life up
And we deny her that
Day after day
Yet still
She smiles

We walked this together
You and i
Recalling that once our mother would be there
Waiting
Calling
But now
It is only me
I am alone
And i wander
With sorrowful thoughts
And despairing diction
With a mother who is not mine
Mother nature
Who welcomes me
And embraces me
Yet still
I am alone
The moon highlights my path
And where there were once two sets
Of footsteps
It is now only one
The ghost of you --
Dear sister --
Trailing further and further
Away
anon Nov 2017
i've been kissed
by a sadist
who holds my hand
and guides me softly
to dramatic
pain

at his hands
i've been held
like a child
so fragile
i could be dropped
or broken
with such ease
and no fight

i've been kissed
by a sadist
who hurt me
so fully
so hatefully
that i don't
quite
catch on

under his spell i wait
and wait
for love to greet me
like it once had done
the kiss
of the sadist
burns my flesh
exposing the weakness
underneath

but i always return
to the sadist's touch
the sadist's
kiss
the sadist

because i love
his love
and his love
is my pain

the kiss
of the sadist
makes me
a *******
anon Jan 2019
for the past few years
this girl
has been missing

her name is elizabeth
or abigail
or judy
or jane
or laura
or julie
or becca
or sasheer
or any other girl
i don't know

i couldn't tell you her name

her last known location
was here
or there
or wandering around a target
not knowing where to go
or who to trust

she's ten
or twenty
or sixteen
or maybe she doesn't know

she's been out of it
for so long
she couldn't tell you
who she is
or where she's from

all she knows
is that she's alone
and afraid

but she doesn't know who took her

she knows
that she let go
of herself
for a moment
a split second

and now
she's gone
anon Oct 2017
i think my best friend
is dead

no joke
no lie
i think she has died

we haven't talked in
5 years
and i miss her like you miss
sleeping
after you've been up all day

like you miss seeing
while your eyes are closed

like you miss smiling
when you're sad out of your mind

i miss her like you miss
your best friend
who has gone

i miss her like
the other half

of me
I just needed to talk about this
anon Sep 2017
i fell in love with a boy
who was fragile
like paper

in a way we were paper
together
i was falling apart
he was
sensitive
and vulnerable

this boy wasn't much
he was plain
save for a few typewriter smears
under his saddened eyes
and paperclip wings
adorning his back

we painted on each other

i covered him with strokes
of happiness
distractions
and a sense of
something
he was a brush upon me
reminding me of who we were
and what it meant to
know

he started to fall for me
the girl who was blown over
by a breeze
the girl who
thought eating was a bother
the girl who loved a boy
who was nothing more
than an intangible
whisper

then there we were
holding each other up
when the wind came
and took our painted bodies
ripped his paperclip wings from his back
tore our paper selves into shreds

we were blown into the world
strewn and lost

and apart

under tires
that tread terrible teeth
into our tiny pieces

stamped us into cement
and stole us
from what was

and now here we are
in what is

i can't pick myself up
because i don't know where i am
who i am
and where the paper boy i loved
has gone

out here is a world
where fragile love
and caring hearts
cannot bond
without loss
without being forgotten

just like
the paper boy
who smiled when he saw me
and who painted me into meaning

who saw
something
who
knew
who was
there
but now is
here

is

gone
anon Sep 2017
Picture me as a rocket
Soaring through the skies
As I wave to you all
And call out little goodbyes

Picture me as the planets
Whose touch you won't know
Though I'd trade them
To be with you on land below

Picture me as Mercury
The closest to the sun
I only know what heat feels like
From the summer with you, done

Picture me as Venus
My oceans all dried up
Where I used to wait for you
With lonely wine in my cup

Picture me as Mars
A last ditch at saving
When the Earth is gone
And people are still waving

Picture me as Jupiter
Whenever you breathe in
Then sing our little song
And flash your beautiful grin

Picture me as Saturn
When you see the rings
The ones on our fingers
And on our angel wings

Picture me as Uranus
Rolling on my side
To catch a better glimpse
Of the one that is ocean eyed

Picture me as Neptune
A bright blue colored orb
So far away from everything
No sunlight left to absorb

Picture me as Pluto
A forgotten little thing
Though I'm so small and cold
I'd rather just -- with you -- sing

Picture me as the moon
Shining down on you all
When I try to get to you
Without the terrifying fall

Picture me as a clock
Counting down the days
That I want to go faster
And I need that gaze

Picture me as your timer
You keep me near your head
I'm there with you in spirit
And we lay by your bed

Picture me as the stars
Whenever you are alone
I'm always watching you
From this golden sky throne

Picture me as a fireball
Made of ice and gas
A star falling downward
As you just watch me pass

Picture me as the sky
As I hold up the space above
And look down and see you all
In faith and hope and love

Picture me as the galaxy
Far away from you
But I'm full of constellations
Remember when we named a few

Picture me as space
Jumbled high and flying
Starry skies you see
From the moon's teary crying

But picture me as a rocket
That didn't mean to leave
So see me and the stars
Whenever you wish to grieve.
anon Oct 2018
i play my cards
by ear
no strategy
no plan
i just
play the cards
because of what
i hear

he says

i love you

so i play the
i love you
card right back

he says

i need you

but i don't have that card
so i play another
i love you
and hope he doesn't
notice

he says

i care about you

and i want to play
doubt
but my cards
still say i
love
you

he says

you never listen

and i hear him
but my cards are blurry
through my tears
so i play
i love you
instead of sorry

he says

i don't believe you when you say you love me

but i've run out of cards to say i love you
so i finally play
i'm sorry

and he says i've wasted his time
and that he can't tell if i ever even cared
or loved

and i play an uno
+4 card
hoping he'll draw the
i love yous
i've discarded
and already played

but he draws
i hate you
i can't trust you
i've fallen out of love with you
and
i still want to care but i can't

and i'm crying again
and can't see my cards
so i play
i'm sorry
i'm sorry
i'm sorry
and
forgive me

and he looks at his hand and sighs
drawing a card
not knowing what to play
not knowing what to say
not even knowing who i am

and i draw too
pulling
i love you
from the deck
a cruel irony

he looks at me
waiting on my move
as i archive the card
and fold

he smiles weakly
and plays
i forgive you

but with my cards on the table
i'm forced to pay up
so i offer him
a final
i love you
as i walk away from the game
anon Jan 2019
perhaps
there's a relapse
in order

because
i remember
that a few years back
everything
made me sad
or bored
or upset
or pessimistic

and i'm not
antagonistic
but the
depressed me
couldn't think of
anything happy

and ten times
i tried

i tried to **** myself

the eleventh time i tried was last year

so it's been awhile
but not long enough

and now i'm feeling
negative
sad
desolate
again

and i don't want there
to be
a twelfth time

but i'm scared
i'll relapse
into destruction

and won't come out this time

twelve has always
always
been my lucky number

so if i try again
i'll
"get lucky"
and die

but i don't really want to die
anon Jan 2019
it's funny
when we'd drive together
you'd scream-sing
and i'd sit and laugh
happy to see
that you were happy
and enjoying yourself

then i'd go home
and abuse the "repeat" button
listening to the songs
you'd made me love

and i'd find myself humming them
and then singing them
and then screaming them in the car
even when you weren't there

i put them in every playlist
because i remembered
how happy you were
when you'd sing them

but now that i know
you'll never be in the driver's seat
scream-singing to me
ever
again

the songs i loved
have moved into my sad songs playlist
and have become
the songs i skip
without giving them a chance to play

and even though
the lyrics are upbeat
and happy

they've got me feeling
some kind of way
i don't wanna feel

sadness is overplayed
overhyped

everything
your songs
our songs
never were
anon Sep 2017
we live in the salem of judgment
acting as though
these are the societal judgment trials
acting as though
we are perfect
and everyone else
is either subpar
or evil
by comparison

we look at people we don't like
or don't know
and act as though being propelled by
a mob

throw our judgment
like rocks

douse it in oil
and light it up
to surround those
we deem
inherently suspect

string it
at first as innocently
as christmas popcorn strings
growing into a licorice rope
and soon
it is a rope we unconsciously
throw around necks
at people
with lives
and loves
and families
we always forget they might have

because we're so
****
obsessed with ourselves
it's like
no one else
matters
or even
exists

only us
and our lives
and loves
and families

i'm not blameless
but whoever says they are
is not

just like the witch trials
though
our salem
tries to end
once it gets personal

it never seems to matter
who we hurt and judge
until
it's us

because that's all we care about
isn't it?
only
us

...

forever
anon Sep 2017
I am a master seamstress
I sew on a grin every day
You can never see my seams
Careful little stitchings
All across the surface

At the end of the day
I cut every little string
I let my sewn smile fall weak

I could smile without it
But it wouldn't be true
Because my cute little smile
Is merely a façade
The real me hides behind seams
She sews to be a survivor
The little seamstress I become


I am a master seamstress
I sew thoughts onto papers
The ink could never bleed through

My strong tight stitchings
Gliding across the blank paper

At the edge of the sheet
I find myself stopping
My stitches want to unravel
I have to let them out
Because they look so caged

So I exterminate my thoughts
They never come back to visit
I set them free for a reason
And it was for them to survive
This little seamstress has a heart


I am a master seamstress
I turn colors into thoughts
The thoughts I turn to material
The material I turn to beauty
The beauty I turn to stitches
The stitches heal broken hearts

My work is so well known
But then they go and leave
I do my part and they are pleased
I stitch their hearts up

They cut some stitchings
Right off my patched heart
The little strings I use
On my seamless tiny grin fray
The seamstress I was works no wonders


I am a master seamstress
I sew the strings onto the puppets
They act a lot like I do
So I admire their tough hearts
They are controlled by another
Little hands lift them up
And make them walk through life

They have their grins plastered on
Just like my seamless little smile
They prance and fly among us
But we never seem to notice them

It's like they are invisible
Falling upon deaf eyes
But I keep them alive
Because a seamstress always saves


I am a master seamstress
I sew what some call impossible
I prove them wrong with one stitch
Still they see right through me

I sewed myself invisibly
Don't let them see the real me
Don't let them know the seamstress
I've sewed their eyes to know
Not to look upon me
As I fix as I repair

They think of me as a fairy
Patching up their cuts
I'm just a small little figure
They never really see
That's just the way a seamstress likes


I am a master seamstress
I sew my wings of thread
Wear them proudly like a trophy
Every stitch is always perfect

They fly up off the wings
They soar when I fly up high
Drooping when I try to walk

My wings are seamless grins
They pretend to be when I'm not
Just like the little grin of everyday

Fly away all you little seams
All the little frayed strings
Gather up in all my stitchings

They look upon the air with care
But the seamstress can't fly away anymore


I am a master seamstress
Sewing up what cannot be fixed by man
anon Sep 2018
as a young girl
I told my mother
I would never get married
and I stuck by that
for years

I got a boyfriend
but I knew
I was never
going to
actually
marry him

but as time goes on
and I get older
and people around me
are getting married
and starting lives
I keep listening to love songs
and noticing
what I want
in a husband

and I am not one
to settle
or settle down
but I made a
google doc
devoted to songs
I want played at my wedding
even though
I've never wanted
a wedding

my loneliness keeps creeping
in
watching me
but
I've finally
succumbed to it
and I want
to make it go away

and for the first time
in my ever expanding
life
I want to stop being alone
and can't stop pondering
childlike
dream wedding
fantasies

****
anon Feb 2018
my head keeps
running
exercising more than i do
constantly coming back
like a treadmill
to you
and it keeps going on
and on
unable to stop thinking
about how you make me smile
or how i
can't meet your eyes
embarrassed you'll see
that my pupils dilate
when i look at you

and my hands are knotted
together
so i don't reach out
so i don't
throw myself
into your arms
where i am
comfortable
and safe

and my heart is beating unnaturally
it's fast
and slow
all at one
fast when it catches up
to my running brain
but slow when it sees
you
and doesn't want to stop
looking

and my feet want to run
away from you
so that my heart
and hands
and head
don't have to suffer
but they always
plant themselves
outnumbered
three to one
unable to turn away
from you

the problem is
my mouth will never
tell you the struggles
my entire body
is subjected to
my feet and head are running
in different directions
and my heart and hands are grasping
at straws
at you
at the one i'd never
tell
hey sorry about posting two in a row within an hour of each other but i didn't want to forget this one
anon Sep 2017
non

in french it means "no"

as a prefix
it negates everything after it

i live in a constant state
of feeling
"non"

my life is lead by non-interesting adventures
to non-exciting places
that make me feel more
non

in comparison to everyone
and even only to myself
i am
non-pretty

i smile my
non-white
smile

and nod my
non-even
head

i hang out
alone
with my
non-friends
who pretend
just like me
that we are not just
non

i am the prefix
non

name a nice adjective
and add a non

that is me

non-kind
non-nice
non-happy
non-beautiful
non-social
non-talk­ative
non-humble
non-talented
non-human
non-EVERYTHING

I AM TIRED OF BEING NON

I WANT TO BE SOMETHING

I WANT TO BE
PRETTY
AND NICE
AND KIND
AND TALKATIVE
AND SOCIABLE
AND GRATEFUL
AND HELPFUL
AND HAPPY

BUT ALL I AM

IS

non
anon Jan 2018
loved and lost a boy
who wrote the most
spectacular poetry

loved and lost a boy
whose words
softly suggested
hopelessness

loved and lost a boy
who made me forget
me
and helped me see

romance has no
i
or
me

it has only
romance
love
care
truth

the truth of a poet
who was
loved and lost

who
i
loved and lost

i
i loved
and lost
a boy
who didn't let me say
i
so i started this without using the letter i to avoid bringing it back to myself but i failed because i'm selfish
anon Sep 2017
If life were like Internet history
I wouldn't be here
And neither would you
I'd have deleted us from my history
And never seen you again

If life were like my email
I'd have endless lists of friends
Following me everywhere
Asking how my day was
And being "always there for me"

If life were like Spotify
I could hear what I want
And skip what I don't like
A song for the day
To carry me through it all

If life were like Facebook
I wouldn't be sad anymore
And you could move on
Once it all becomes "complicated"
Afterall, I can just delete it later

If life were like a video game
I could be the best
And you the worst
Because I couldn't fall for you
If you were only pixellated

If life were like an avatar
I could shape you up
To be the perfect image
And when I get tired
Just delete you like you did me

If life were like a video
Your voice would play on and on
Forever in my mind
Until I eventually realize
You pressed pause and I never knew
anon Nov 2017
this poem
has a title
so that all who read it
know
that this poem has a meaning

because without something to reference
a name
or a title
things are left behind

just like me
in all the years
i tried to remain
untitled

rather

anonymous

untitled people
like me
are given no
second glances
no
first chances
no
social advances

nothing

left behind
like a poem
without
a name
anon Oct 2017
thanks
no i mean it

thanks

i was actually feeling a bit
d                          
o                  
w        
n

and­ i needed you to tell me
on a monday night
at 7:53
in the middle of july

that i had i nice ***

it really brightened my day
to know
that i
a human person

can be complimented
because of my
assets

instead of the fact
that i work
all the time
without getting tired
or giving up

or that
i study
so much
i feel like
i'm falling apart

or that
i spend time
trying to make the world
around me
a little
bit
better

i really wanted to affirm
what girls are told
from the time
they can listen

that cup size matters
and whether or not
you fill out your jeans
means
whether or not
you might matter

that we will be ignored
in the work place
if we aren't
supermodels

and even if we are
that is all we become

bodies

not people

you know
somebody once told me
it doesn't matter
what you look like
because your personality can make up
for anything

which should be good
like
i look like quasimodo
but with a sense of humor
and a bit of *****
i'm esmerelda

i can look like a spork
but if i laugh
and play along
like nothing's wrong
like girls should
i can be a full fork

i love that i have to be something

really

i do

i love that being
is more important than
existing

i love that i have to be someone who listens and never speaks

i love that i have to work with all my might to be thin enough for people who don't care about other people

i love that i have to have a double d and up in order to be even noticed

i love that my **** has to be filled out and gigantic so that i can be assured personhood by a man

because girls are only

what

the

men

see

we are reduced to objects
who give up
and don't fight

because the women who fight
are criticized
and *****
and killed
and we can't stop it

because the more we speak

the more we are silenced

so thank you
sir

for reminding me at 7:53
in a menards parking lot
your wedding ring glinting
like the malice in your eye
that all i am
is
what you see
anon Apr 2018
let me tell you how it all happened

they'll tend to tell you bullies caused it
or that everyone has the same experience
and it starts because
other people
forced it to

but what i have to tell you
is that i did it to
myself
i'm a turncoat
to my own flesh

i would look in the mirror and see
a gut
and suddenly
that was all i could see

no matter if my calves were toned
or my arms were sticks
i saw that gut
or my
curdled thighs
and that was all

so i'd say i wasn't hungry
or i'd "sleep" through a meal
and i'd work extra hard at practice
pretend i wasn't always run down

and even if i'd pass out
or struggle to stay awake
i'd pretend like it was sleep
i was depriving myself of sleep

and you know that cycle
in every anorexic girl's story
where her body bloats before it thins
because it's trying to protect her

i went harder in that stage
so i could lose the weight that made me a 2
instead of 00
and i would cry myself to sleep
because i was in pain
mental
and physical

but i couldn't stop the
taunts
i gave
myself

my dad would tell my friends
to make sure i would
eat
but i never listened

and now i look back
and see my former shell-f
a self that had no self
a self that was only

a shell

a turncoat

anorexic
anon Sep 2017
i'm a basic
untitled
entitled
typical brat

i live my days
as the untitled would
in an untitled world
going to untitled
unmarked
uninteresting places
and visiting typical
untitled
entitled brats
much like
myself

i catch myself in the mirror
and i think
"daaamn"
and i look my
untitled
entitled face
that reads

"stay away from me"

i'm nothing special
as an untitled person

i'm nothing terribly deep or profound

i don't work for what i want
i don't know struggle
pain eludes me
and laughs when i reach for it

i'm trying to know
trying to see
trying to care

i'm trying

but the untitled
entitled
aren't given what they truly need

the untitled
entitled
have everything

except compassion
relation
knowing
understanding
feeling
lessons learned
lives lost

the untitled
entitled
are entitled to
ease
the untitled
entitled
have nothing
though
about

life
anon May 2018
my anxiety is like
driving alone
through eternal yellow lights
you're always ancipating
expecting
fearing
the red light
unsure whether you have
time to go
or if you should just
stop
cease
panic
and you know there's green lights
you just passed one
but the red feels
so close
so much more real
that you can't imagine
ever seeing green again

but sometimes
you're afraid it's the
point of no return
and you have to slam
the brakes
at a yellow light
and people are honking
staring
laughing
screaming
why are they screaming?
and you want to move
to say something
but you're frozen
in time
almost as if
the yellow lights
all are broken
frozen
dysfunctional
just like
you
anon Aug 2018
i understand why van gogh drank yellow paint
because sometimes i have a hard time
pulling myself away from the art

i am miserable
basically pitiful
and i'm lost in a love that can never be returned

see i was never taught love
so i never graduated to self love
never saw a reason
and now that i'm older
i wish someone would have told me
my only salvation is a story
of a man
filling himself with ounces of happiness

a glug at a time
he consumed paint
that could **** him
just because it could give him
a sliver of joy

i drink his quirk up
like my own bottle of paint
because hidden within
the confines of his story
is a man who wanted nothing more
than love
and care
that could never be granted

love and care
that i so crave
as i pour yellow acrylic
down my throat
and smile
knowing that joy may soon
fill me

— The End —