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Magdalyn Dec 2014
-Sleeping with the lights on
-strawberry-flavored milk (because it tastes bad, but is so cute)
-naps
-being on the brink of sleep and having to pull yourself back
-you
-the smell of something smoky
-smoke getting in my eyes
-drooping eyelids
-hair in my eyes
-bad quality lipgloss
-sleeping with the lights off
-other people
---but mostly you
Sep 2014 · 6.0k
September 29th
Magdalyn Sep 2014
Sept. 29th, 2014
Is combing and brushing your eyebrows in the morning.
It's leaning on the cold car window with earbuds
and as the last notes play, thinking
"Please don't make this a happy song
I don't deserve a happy song."
It's seeing ads for a clearance sale
plastered on a store that almost never is occupied
and seeming to just know that it's
it's subtle way of going out of business.
It's knowing and not believing.
It's breaking out in a cold sweat when you finish a book.
It's wishing I could go home
and lie on my carpet
and peel all my skin off
then crawl back inside
and maybe feel comfortable this time.
Jul 2014 · 1.1k
Pink Snot
Magdalyn Jul 2014
Now all I have left is
water in my ears, heavy chlorine in my hair,
a hangover from lack of sleep, and
"Mama" playing along to the demented viewmaster in my head:
K snorting fun dip from a paper plate and
rolling on the floor with her blue-black tongue.
us running across the train tracks,
nettles scritching my poorly-shaven legs.
And us trying to perform a satanic ritual
in a hotel pool.
Surprisingly, thirteen doesn’t feel any different,
does it?
I deleted this by accident, apologies!
Jun 2014 · 2.6k
Summer Vacation, day 7
Magdalyn Jun 2014
This is no summer of love, life, or living
no stargazing, butterbeer-soaked movie nights at the library,
or calls from my private school friends
yet
just hours spent on the computer and worrying, simultaneously.
Putting on makeup blindly,
my glasses clipped onto my tank top
that's too tight to wear outside the house,
while songs play that take me back to the previous year,
when all I had was math corrections on the breakfast table at 7:00
while it snowed,
and the days we would just reel around, looking forward to class trips
and lock-ins
that consisted of running around
first on sunlit streets, and then
around the pitch-black halls of the empty school,
wary shrieks and giggles chasing each other in the air.
But now
I'm just leaning here on my bed, eyes tired and feet covered in blisters,
thinking that the next three sweat-and-sunscreen-filled months
are going to be anything but a vacation.
Jun 2014 · 802
Funtown
Magdalyn Jun 2014
What's with the roller-coaster
of anticipation and dehydration
that goes with these daily adventures?
Can't stop yelling, reliving the fact that normally
I would be sitting at home
listening to lorde and feeling sorry for myself
but instead I'm hazing in a land of
1/4 adults, all the rest
sugared-up, sunscreen-sweating, scream-yelling and cussing middleschoolers
with unlimited access to rides that makes our t-shirts see-through
and our hearts hide in our throats
from all the loud, loud music and words
that goes along with having packaged fun.
So while I'm sitting in a cracked leather seat
the metal bar indenting on my skin
and my glasses stuffed in my bra,
I remember to jus' remember
that middle school is one hell of a ride.
field trip.
Apr 2014 · 415
Music Clinic
Magdalyn Apr 2014
Walked into the bathroom, expecting to see the room crammed with girls
screeching, smiling at me, checking their foundation and wondering
why hasn't he flirted with me yet?
Instead, all that's left is the ten posters taped on the wall
with stock photos of black skirts
telling me the difference between wrong or long.
Yeah, there are no more mornings of waking up to the sound of
A Capella hymns and kids I've never met laughing at
things I've never said before
no more 5 'o clock practices full of winces, trips, laughing, sweating, and thinking
no more 7:30 pm concerts where
my heart bounces around like a dead animal
no control left, and
I'm running in the halls wearing black and white, but thinking gray
no more taco bell runs right after, when I'm getting cinnamon sugar on my skirt and counting measures in my head.
And certainly no more days of just sitting on the bleachers
my head and heart too full of sputters of laughter to worry
about whether my melody is correct.
Apr 2014 · 822
shorty
Magdalyn Apr 2014
These days it's all greasy bangs, candy chapstick leaking onto my skin, and my deodorant sliding out from under the bathroom stall, no more
lorde songs playing from the radio, girl scouts singing in the backseat,
or
Feb 2014 · 1.1k
Basil
Magdalyn Feb 2014
Do you remember:
Watching Harry Potter and pretending the characters were our classmates,
while sitting on your couch eating Dominos,
the spices stinging my split lip.
Naming our sleepovers,
E-mailing "Jennifer is tomorrow".
Slurping mint Klondike bars in your hot tub,
Autumn rain pittering from the trees,
and playing truth-or-dare sitting in front of the jets.
Throwing your old toys in the road
and waiting for them to get run over
until my dad arrived.
Videotaping our feet
in the golden light
and the deleting them to save space
Walking to your house after watching "The video" at school
and giggling past the rivers of rust.

Honestly, I thought
we were going to be friends forever.
Jan 2014 · 549
Running
Magdalyn Jan 2014
Running.
Run across your street and mind
Take your memories cause I don't need 'em
but think of me

Scars to prove it, tears to fake it
Can you read my mind? No.
The time that towns forgot
Running through the street and running quickly through your mind

It's unfair

It's not love, it's just love.
One of many problems, many problems in one
Snipping out the bad parts,
pasting in the worser ones
Running from your problems back into
circle one
waiting for the ax to fall
and cut off my split ends.
Okay, so you can tell I'm a little sad.
Jan 2014 · 698
The orange looking glass
Magdalyn Jan 2014
Are you happy that you've made me unhappy
talking about your bad days
and scars from them?
About how you could have
but you didn't and wish you did.
And I'm one of the reasons
I don't listen I just carry
the burden of being the only one who knows you're lost.
Your life is not bad through this orange looking glass
and you're just a sad and lonely kid
who refuses to be called emo.
Do you need words, or a hug, or what?
Because no matter how much you want to think
you can't be helped or fixed,
I was.
Dec 2013 · 594
Winter wrap up
Magdalyn Dec 2013
The smashed cookies on the ground
bring back a snow-flaked flurry of memories.
banging the tambourine on my palm,
lying on the hallway floor
watching the elementary students in the orange light,
in their feathered, polka-dotted dresses
and crisp red-black-gold suits,
miniature versions of the worlds nationalities.
I stuff stacks of programs in my dry hands
trying not to look like I'm caring.
But inside I'm still that youngish girl lightly tapping the bass drum
and hoping that nobody's looking.
'ere's my Christmas concert poem.
Magdalyn Dec 2013
I have siblings.
Many siblings
who all understand me.
Are we related?
More so than normally.
We are connected in brain rather than blood.
We can read each others' minds
and feel each others' emotions
every tear and sound and smell.
Who are these brothers and sisters?
My...friends.
My "friends" who walk along with me and we swear and laugh and gossip.
My "friends" who know all of my stinging secrets and I theirs.
My "friends" that I eat ice cream mixed with hot sauce and lemon juice with
My "friends that I throw up and cry and sing and dance and write songs and watch movies with.
No,
they're not my friends.
They're family.
That's deep, man.
Magdalyn Dec 2013
"In only a week, it is."* you think as you ride the school bus home
you picture yourself in that generic black dress,
school-sanctioned, and worn by other girls
who felt the same as you do now,once.
You remember the lights, the praying, the singing,
the dancing to "silent night" and
getting chased in the dark and snow and in a dress.
You worry about getting lost in your music
messing up
as you scoop nutella out of a mug.
You dream about
sleigh bells and bass drums and timpanis
and the awkward looks you'll get from highschoolers.
You hope and wish and blink,
the average girl with her sweater-wrapped heart.
okay, so if you couldn't tell already, my schools' christmas concert is in a week and I'm...petrified. I'll write a poem about how it goes later.
Dec 2013 · 592
and music feelings
Magdalyn Dec 2013
Listening to music is so weird.
sometimes It'll feel like someone is reaching down your throat and scratching at your heart
and you feel the urge to sing so bad.
Other times it feels like someone poured a big vat of honey on you
and the only thing you can see, or taste, or smell or feel is that song.
And still other times
it feels like someone replaced your soul with a handful of peach fuzz
and your eyes with two cold river rocks
and your brain goes into memory mode
like a kaleidoscope of bittersweet and frisson.
and
there's that one song
and then you can't feel anything
at all.
Nov 2013 · 630
why did I agree to this
Magdalyn Nov 2013
This time I leave with you
through the door you ran in yelling my name hardly nine minutes ago.
We walk on the slush infused sidewalks
alarming those around us by
scream-laughing, swearing, falling in the snow red-faced and wheezing.
We get to your house and you guys
plug in your ipod
blasting songs that talk about
grown up things.
Hairography, wrinkled rugs,
and a seven-month-old chocolate peep later
you're on the phone with my best friend
and I apologize to her while I watch
you drop a pet rabbit and scream.
The men building the church next door
look at us strangely as I spit outside and then get dragged back into
the pulsating mess that is our friendship.
Nov 2013 · 625
The day after Halloween
Magdalyn Nov 2013
I wake up slowly, memories of last night swimming in my head. Am I still there?
No. I'm in my weird-smelling room
not the orange-lit streets
pocked with puddles I dragged my dress through.
On the breakfast table there is
my hat, with the fluff hanging off
a fedora with a makeshift veil and long silver strings.
On the way to school
songs yell in my head
the way we yelled them down the dark road.
It is still raining outside.
In math, reading, or any other
nobody utters a word about the past holiday.
"It's the devils holiday, after all."
In band, waiting for those seven silent measures to be up
I wipe my face and find silver glitter on my hands.
I smile secretly.
At home, I eat candy, in spite of myself.
They're wrong. Halloween isn't over yet.
Yeah, I went trick or treating and it poured rain. Ironically, I was dressed up as a rain cloud. I went with my two sisters who were dressed up as a phoenix and Kurt Hummel.
Oct 2013 · 657
Imagination Vessel
Magdalyn Oct 2013
Sitting on the oddly sweet-smelling seat
anxiously ******* my oily bangs
song lyrics playing in and out of my mind.
Out the window I see soft brown grasses
and signs for auto shops
and leaves blowing around.
Around me is the hum of younger kids talking about ipods and soccer games
humming half-songs by overrated boy bands and forgotten summer camps.
Drawing is no use, even if you find a pencil it will surely break
wobbling off the page as cracks and portholes pass underfoot.
And I never have any books to read.
So I observe inside and out of the bus,
The only one to see a lonesome deer by the side of the road
or stolen looks by kindergartners.
As graffiti and weeds zoom by outside the smeared glass
we creak and grumble to a stop.
I dig around for the non-existent bus card
and get off my imagination vessel, the school bus.
Oct 2013 · 626
Menyesal
Magdalyn Oct 2013
I regret
That I ignored the golden sound of peepers across the street
I regret
That I sometimes stay on the computer too much
a zombie with blue light on her face
I regret
that I don't make those entries in my journal
or draw that idea I got at 2 am
or turn in that essay
But most of all
I regret hating and loving you.
So when I say
"saya, saya tidak menyesal."
know that I am lying.
don't even ask why I wrote in Malay. I just did.
Oct 2013 · 895
Happiness is
Magdalyn Oct 2013
watching a movie in class
and having boys crowded around your desk playing with your hair
and acting like it annoys you
but it doesn’t

window shopping
with a friend
pointing out wishes
making inside jokes

going to Mcdonalds with your grandmother
eating fries like British delicacies
chatting

those days on the bus
listening to music
the sun and bus
yellow
zooming along the streets

lying awake at night
sleeping over
hands being held over the abyss between two beds
swapping secrets
like fisherman trading fish

drawing
and liking it
creating something

and

tasting
something sweet

— The End —