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Hello. Most of you don’t even know who I am, but you see me every day. I am the girl that you ask to help with your homework, the “ Who knows the answer to number 11?” girl. But even the ones that know my name don’t really know me. Not even my closest friends. They don’t know the anxiety, the pressure, the constant fear of what might happen if I don’t pass in this test? How is my sister doing? Are they treating her right? If I fail this, will my future change? What about boys? Actually, no. Not going there. Because I am the smart girl who gives them the answers because I don’t feel like challenging the social ladder. Because I am a simple girl with a perfect life, right? Wrong. We all have problems, and I am willing to bet that some of you know where I am coming from. And maybe some of you have had it harder than me.

And that is why I put it all in. I smile, but it’s not in my eyes. I laugh, but does anyone hear how hollow my voice is? I get good grades, and when I don’t, it’s a big deal. I got a lower grade in my French class, and the class laughed. I scored an 88. Think about that. I am always pushed to do the right thing, do good in school, make a life for yourself. I HAD to get all above 95’s in Middle School. I HAD to make honor roll. My mother was counting on me as the perfect twin.

But what about me? How am I doing? Fine, fine, fine. That’s all that is ever said. All anyone hears. And if we are going to be honest with ourselves, all anyone cares about. Because no one wants to deal with that icky, nasty thing we label “The Truth”. That’s right folks. Because not everyone who looks okay is. Because not everyone who laughs isn’t crying on the inside. And not everyone one who smiles isn’t lying.

Now when you look down the halls of this school, how do you see people? Popular, football player, cheerleader, gamer geek, fat, gay, lesbian, emo, cutter, punk, teacher’s pet, and even the occasional ew freshmen. But no one know’s that their thoughts, they aren’t just in their minds. All thoughts find a way out. And these thoughts of yours that called us geek, nerd, teacher’s pet. We know them. We hear them. And they become our thoughts.

No one wants to hear this. There’s this voice in my head telling me I might pass out.... now! What if I mess this up? Will my teacher judge me? What about my friends? Are they going to like me, or leave me? My sister, her friends, how are they going to take this? Oh God, what if? But what happens when... Will they.... And someone will understand this feeling inside. The feeling of absolute dread. The feeling that you are going to die.

Welcome to the world of anxiety. The world of never ending worries, the realm of reliving nightmares that you haven’t had yet. The place where your worst fears become a reality. Anxiety is where you worry about things that haven’t happened yet, where people talk behind your back without ever saying a word. This is my world. What is yours?
 Apr 2014 Jaide Lynne
Emily Joyce
I always get asked why I read so much and the answer is simple really.
Its because I can escape to live and breath as someone else if only for a short amount of time.
When I'm reading I can breath again and all my problem just disappear as the word on the pages of this magnificent creation fill my mind.
Like my own personal movie acting itself out inside my head.
I read because while I may be losing my house and worrying about every little detail, Becca is moving on to college and a newer, sweeter better life. I read because even though I know its not real it still feels like it for a blissfuly small amount of time.
But really I read most of all because I love to read and the value of books, at least to me, could never be put into words.
I love to read.
 Apr 2014 Jaide Lynne
Ghazal
How can you forget him
If you keep seeing yourself as
A martyr?
Stop glorifying failure.
Be a **Survivor.
 Apr 2014 Jaide Lynne
Emily Joyce
Who am I to blame?
For this monster waking from inside
Is surely going to win this time
Not sure how much more I can with hold
Unhappy with those who dare to laugh
who dare to stare, dare to mold.
I am myself it screams!
How dare you try and change me.
I will return once again, not to be locked up in this pen.
And if you should stand in my way, I hope you’re ready to pay
For I am a monster locked inside, Of a scared young girls mind
Slowly breaking down, with every awful sound
One day she will eventually break, and our revenge I will take.
 Apr 2014 Jaide Lynne
Emily Joyce
Plastic Hearts

A single crack is how it starts, ripping through our plastic hearts.
And as we scream and plead and beg, Our friends don’t know quite how much it hurts.
We learn to stop, learn to numb. Even if it is quite dumb.  
Never allowing one to get to close. For fear of an overdose.
Because when all you’ve learned to love can leave, You don’t know what to believe.
All I’ve ever known was pain, until I found the one who kept me sane. Ripping through our plastic hearts.
One day we were ripped apart, I and my dead heart.
But every cry and plead and beg, only casts us more into the dark. Ripping through our dead plastic hearts.


Every cut and every plead
Is always met with a need
Everyday and every way
I can feel my heart dying.
Fighting to stay, fighting to slay
All we’ve ever known is pain
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