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They are flat surfaces that show your surroundings in their own dimension.

They are windows, made with the most perfect glass, in which you can take a look at what everyone sees when they see you.

They will never show you lies, they will just show your reality from their point of view.

You can always trust them.

Such a fine glass does not deserve your hate when it shows your reflection, for it is on your how they view your reality, and it is on you how you view your reflection.

Either way, they are just showing you their opinion.
I put it on once I wake up; looking at the mirror would be too painful.
Once I get to school, the mask greets everyone with a smile, letting everyone think that I’m having a good day in order to hide my cries of depression.
Everyone in school knows my mask. Everyone in school likes the mask. I like the mask too; it keeps my secrets away from everyone.
I sometimes ask myself if people would still like me the same if I took the mask off.
It’s scary.
Even tempting.
Nonetheless, the mask stays in the place it has always been, keeping at least five of my secrets away from everyone.
Once I get home, the mask greets my family with the same fake smile, and I keep it on because my family does not deserve the torture to know me.
If they saw my face, doubt would fill their eyes, for they would never be able to recognize me.
At the end of the day, once everyone is at a safe distance from me, I take the mask off, and I let the monster I am reveal itself through silent screams and unnoticed tears.
I finally let my body rest in sleep so that it can be ready to repeat the cycle tomorrow.
I remember I used to use it a lot more a long time ago. I would go up to any adult just start talking about the first thing that crawled into my infant head. I never lacked the knowledge or courage to start an interesting talk, but they told me to stop getting into other people’s conversations, so I stood quiet.

I used to have a great sense of sarcasm and a contagious shine that I always carried around. I would laugh my head off at every single thing I found funny, but they told me that I was being too loud, so I stood quiet.

They told me to always say the truth, and to keep their secrets. They told me to follow their orders, and to not answer back. They told me that they knew best and all along I stood quiet.
Just like that, they slowly cut my vocal cords one by one, and I stood quiet because I could not say anything wrong…




If I didn’t say anything.

As the years went by, my voice kept getting more used to being out of order. Its silence was so strong that I would have to force it to work when I was around them.
There was a point where they started uncomfortable with the absence of my voice, so they tried to make me open up to them. However, it was too late for that. I could no longer push my broken voice to do things it was not used to do, no matter how much I wanted it to.

They closed my voice, and I’m not ever opening it up to them again.







Be that as it may,







I don’t know, though, if my ears will be able to keep up with my voice.
I detest when people ask: are you OK?
It gets even worse when it proceeds to: what's going on?
I avoid the answer to these questions, for their answer is neither clear nor joyful.
I wish they would never ask
I wish they would just stay quiet

They think they know what I have
They think they know what I need


I don't need their attention
I don't want their attention



I Just want to be in an empty room...




Where the only sound is the echo of my thoughts...





And I don't have to talk...  






Or think...                                                  







Or move...                                                          ­              











But they come back....      







They pressure...




They stare....



They judge.....


I want them to leave.


I don't want them to wonder about me.












Leave                                            ­          













Leave me alone.                                            














­



Stop torturing me.                                        





















­







Only then can I torture myself                            
.
Have you ever wanted something so badly,
You would do anything to get a hold of it?
Ever wanted something so badly,
You can't help but avoid it?
The simple thought of not having it boils you blood.

Your mind takes you far
You wonder, and imagine
Just what could you do if you had a grasp of it...




But you don't have it,
And the only thing that you can do is dread it.

It is impossible to get your attention away from it,
For everything reminds you of it.
It tortures you,
And it pleasures you.
It leaves you with a bittersweet scent.

One question remains


Would you be dangerous without it,



Or with it?




How far would you go to get it,



How far would you go to keep it?






Once you have it,








Would you ever let it go?
 Feb 2018 Glennys Ross
Vale Luna
(read forward, then backward, line by line)

I ran.
Not knowing what else to do
There was so much blood on my hands
It was mine
The kitchen knife
Caught in my chest
Guilt
Consumed by
Fear
I was heightened by
Adrenaline
But running on
Wasn’t enough
While trying to stay calm,
Losing control
It was me that would end up
Dead. Because
He was
In front of me
The whole time
It was too late
Trapped
I found myself
Locked in chains
My fate was
Death.
Forward: from the victims perspective.
Backward: from the murderers perspective.

This TOOK ME FOREVER TO WRITE
I, no I mean WE will not be defeated.
Now, hope might seem depleted
But I promise that at the end of the tunnel there is a light,
It might be small and barley in sight,
But it is there and it beckons for us to hold on,

Hold on to each other: our friends, our sisters, our brothers,
Because in a world full of hateful slurs,
Where name calling and bullying still occurs,
We need to see each other as more than just negative labels,
It is up to us to look into the eyes of hate and turn the tables,
You might look at that person different than you and call them names,
But all you do is lose sight of, that despite you trying to give them a new one, their name is James.

And James is a fricking genius. No he really is. He is solving high school math problems in the 3rd grade,
And that little James plays Behtoveen on the piano like it has never been played,
But you missed out on all his amazing talents and the best hug you will ever get,
Because you were too busy trying to impress your friends, not worried who you’d upset.  

It is time to learn there are a thousand better words than ******* or gay,
And most of y’all who use them don’t even know what they mean anyway,
So I will fight on to spread the word to end the word,
And no matter how many times they try and break us down,
I will never be deterred,
Because for the one’s I’ve known who are affected by this kind of speech,
For the kids I see every day, the students I teach,
I want them to live in the kind of place,
Where we give up hate and learn to embrace
So if you are with me, make the change today,
Buy a dictionary, find a better word to say.
This might be a sloppy poem but I just needed to get my frustrations out that people still use the words "gay" and "*******" so casually in conversations without any regard to the damage they are doing to others.

“If you judge people, you have no time to love them.”

― Mother Teresa
People call it a cage, but I call it my room
I was born here, this is my very home

The lights are starting to shine
Is it already showtime?

The spotlight in the middle of the arena,
All eyes on me.

"DANCE!"
You yell, and I put on a show for you.

"FIGHT!"
Your demand reaches my ears,

"JUMP!"
                                                  ­              "TWIRL!"
                        "ROAR!"
          ­                                                                 ­      "SING!"
                                     "****!"
"SWIM!"
                                                 ­                                               "RUN!"

Your words are my commands,
Commands I Follow without questioning.

My only purpose is to entertain you,
My only desire is to hear you cheer.

You deserve it
You are better than me
I'm just a useless beast.


I got hurt?
It does not matter,
The show must go on.

After all, this show is for you specifically.


And you.


And you.


All of you are important
Let me be your slave
It would be a pleasure.



Kick me
Insult me
Make fun of me
Make me feel miserable.

Just don't hate me
It would ruin my purpose.

Do you hate me?
Am I not entertaining you?

I will change how I look!
I can make you laugh!
I can act better!
I will torture myself if I have to.

Is that not enough?

I can do better.
I can!

Just tell me what you want
I will do anything to please you



Am I still not enough?











WHAT DO YOU WANT?
I PROMISE I CAN DO IT!








no?
















Am I not entertaining anymore?















































**** ME

































EVEN BETTER











I CAN SAVE YOU THE WORK




























































­


































i will **** myself


anything to satisfy my audience.









anything

to satify

YOU

.
When we were all little we had the innocence
The innocence of not knowing right form wrong
The innocence of getting away with it
The innocence from society

Today, we all do what is socially acceptable
Most of us wish we could back to our innocence
Forget all the experience we have and everything we have been taught
Simpler times

When I was little I never cared what others thought of me
I never cared about what I looked like
I never cared about what society thought I should be

When we grow older we are trained to listen to society
Abide by societies rules
We learn what is and is not socially acceptable

This is when we get eaten alive
This when I get eaten alive

I never had a confidence problem when I was younger
I never relied on a guy for my happiness
I never let them dictate who I was or what I should look like

When I was younger I never did this
Today, I do and so do many other girls
Our confidence is easily damaged by a guy in our life

I promised myself I would never abide by their standards
I would never do it again
I would never damage myself or my body again

We all know this is never true
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