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Emily Lawson Dec 2016
stood at the top of a concrete hill
longboard under my feet
down I go

my arms go out
flap like wings
I feel feathers

every flap sends
a gust of wind
through my hair

they flap faster, faster
faster still
until I take flight

for a moment
I control the weather
cyclone, I think

every problem disappears
I'm weightless
pure bliss

it never lasts
my wings falter
I begin to fall

the worlds problems whisper
marred words in my ear
in the form of laughter

as I hit the ground
I scream
they scream back

no
it never lasts
Emily Lawson Dec 2016
I've found my new obsession.

Smirk affixed to his face
with sarcastic remarks
and slippery words,

mysterious in that stupid
teenage way.

I'd **** to hear what he has to say
about the nonsensical *******
we're forced to endure
each day
that the government calls an
"education".

I'm sure
his opinions on how
we're taught to the standardized tests,
nothing more
and nothing less
could cause enough raw power
to run the whole of New York City
for a month.

Though, too, I'd **** to learn
the terrain of his lips
as our bodies
slammed
against lockers,

oblivious classmates
a wall away
consumed by the
awesome
world of geography,
missing out on something
so
much
more.

He and I,
we'd know what more is,
we'd know how to consume it,
how to keep it at bay,
how to work it
like a hat,
a hat we aren't allowed to wear
at school.

We'd laugh at our own obscurity,
and shared secrets
would run through our veins
like blood,

one cut and it all spills
Any and all critique is much appreciated! Be as straightforward as possible.

— The End —