Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
lauren Oct 2017
i knew that (you) had changed
and i (accepted) that
people grow, for better or for worse
estranged individuality is truly quite a
beautiful and conceptual concept
for (me,) i have endlessly tried to morph into
someone whom i am not
and cannot be
(the girl who) is touched
but untouchable
and not to lie through my teeth when i say
that i cannot give you what you need
the complication of my entirety
is much too complicated
i do not trust
and
i (loved) every minute of it
but all of that love died when i became much too
exhausted
to be the person that (everyone) wanted me to
be
lauren Sep 2017
if you ask an olympic athlete how they have become so successful, their response may start with "i’ve been practicing”.

every movement of practice and every ounce of effort had been put into fully maximizing their ability to perform. but isn’t even funnier to think that you haven’t “practiced” anything more than you have been able to practice life?

since you were born, that was it. you were given the moment to start. to perfect. and somehow, were just so bad at it. even though humans are creatures of habit, there is no routine way to practice how you live or what you decide to do.

you are constantly trapped in the spotlight, having to decide every action you will take next, not able to practice. maybe lives just have to be that. its either for you, or against you. no matter how hard you practice you just can’t seem to get it right.

and sometimes, you have quit.
lauren Sep 2017
my college professor always told us not to be spiritually unhappy. he told us to search up and down and sideways and abide by all truths and rules instead of teaching us calculus. he told us to let the flowers on rolling hills and a man walking alone in paris to be the most beautiful things we have witnessed and the boys snickered and the girls cracked their gum but i listened.

my college professor once told us that somebody, someday, will look at you like you were the best thing in the world, and i could tell that he'd been hurt before. then again the word hurt could mean an infinite amount of things.

he was young, about thirty, and i could imagine him with his excuse for a girlfriend sitting on a park bench with him at two in the morning cautiously blowing smoke into the air like it meant something more than happiness. and tears running down her face mirroring his in the limelight. street lights glistened at the appearance of any human body at this hour.

“have a cigarette with me. what were we talking about? do you remember?”

her own voice echoed in my mind. oh god he was happy. he liked the way she dressed in all black on saturday nights and she appreciated his company because smoking cigarettes in the park alone just wouldn't be the same if she was without him.

"i’ve written my number and my name on old benches clutched my sweaty palm to the edges, too afraid to ever give up the security of a lone object that quite frankly had quite a bit of meaning to me.” she said.

she found herself sitting on park benches alone  not because she had to rest, or maybe another destination to go to, but because she liked the feeling—

"everyone in this world is all together but we’re apart. alone. it doesn’t matter whether the man standing next to the bench will sit down or not, i sit on park benches to be anonymous. even if somebody did ask for my story, i could make up anything i wanted, and that person would fade away and another would come along and i would make up another story just to pass time,” she said.  

and that made her spiritually happy.

and maybe thats just the reason why our professor wanted to pass that along to us.
lauren Jun 2017
the heaviness of my heart
collapsed upon your arrival
and welcomed itself
back into my arms
upon your absence
lauren Jun 2017
three words that linger
in the stale, blatant silence
horrific statement
lauren Jun 2017
if i had to put into words
the sour feelings in which i had toward your
hold onto me; rather an explanation of the joys as well,
i would start by analyzing your complex personality to
my hair.
as if a security blanket of tiny strands had not been enough
to hold my satisfaction.
too afraid to cut off, and watch fall to the floor
the pieces of the past.
the dead and dry ends of your humor
these feelings: an etching of the damage i so willingly forced
to make it look absolutely perfect in my eyes.
they say, they mock actually,
the presence of change in a woman,
a mark of symbolic movement into the future.
a haircut.
well i have changed
just as you have
but the maintenance of it as well; has become much too expensive for my taste.
the highlights were always too bright: but remarkable
because not only did it change the way my hair looked
but my whole appearance.
isnt that silly; to compare you to a completely
unrealistic dead component of myself.
yes i think so as well.
but as i am changing i realize: that you are very much alive
and so are you growing.
and with it bringing back the joys of the past; a new root in our bond  
the ones i should have remembered
before the haircut.
lauren Apr 2017
dont be disgusting
you say
like i had a choice when i spoke
like that thought wasn't
rotting within us to begin with
it isnt like that at all

im thinning
youve never driven me this far before
not in the dark like this
a sticky
sugary
dark
where cavities are opened
and emptied
and what you say isnt quite true
even when you say it twice
it isnt like that at all

i want to use you and she
interchangeably
so there can be more or less distance
between us
not armrests
or elbows
or six months
but a world
a breath
a ******* butterfly epiphany
it isnt like that at all

and i think even to this day
you are no more grown up than i am
but now youre driving
and youve suddenly decided that
i am the innocent one
it isnt like that at all
how disgusting
i wrote this with tears in my eyes
Next page