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 Sep 2013 Molly Pendleton

I run,
and run,
and run,
and it chases,

It haunts the crevices of my mind,
pushing me closer,
to an undefined edge.

As I think I am getting better,
as hope caresses me into a broken lucidity,
it knocks on my door.
Pounding against the hard cracking ossein,

All around me my walls shatter,
and it’s echoing voice,
protrudes my hollow skull.
It taunts my frail spirit,
It takes a hammer to my confidence,
It tears my existence to shreds.

I hide in my room.
It is safe there.
No pain can reach me,
If it cannot see me.

Its voice is a calming melody
That masks the true terror it really is.
“It’s okay to hide. You’ll be safe here.
“Don’t be scared.”
When all I am
Is scared.

Scared of people,
what they’ll say,
what they’ll think.
Scared of how
I will embarrass myself
this time.

Its hand grasps me by the throat
and shakes me numb.
“Do not go. Do not go.
“They will mock you,
“They will judge you,
“Don’t go, Don’t go.”

I run,
and run,
and run,
and it chases,

I want away. I want away.
This fear it gives me.
This fear is throws on me.
I do not need.
It racks my mind endlessly,
whispering lies into my ears.

I try,
and try,
and try,
to get away,
and it laughs,
He got expelled this time.

He wasn't sent to
In-school suspension
Or lunch detention
Or the counselor's office.

He was expelled from
Fairfax County Public Schools.

And his friends all freaked.

They sat outside the school
Every morning
And wouldn't go in
To protest.

They signed a petition
That called him a
"Well rounded student"
"Well loved by the student body."

I didn't love Brian.
I hated Brian.

Brian was the kid
Who always
Made the class
Stay late.

He was the kid who
Went through the halls
Grabbing peoples butts.

He was the kid that
All the guys wanted to be
And all the girls wanted to have.

And instead of sending him off
To West Point
Where he would have to
Shave his Bieber hair and
Follow the rules for once,
The county revoked the expulsion.

And to me
It seems like
A celebrity murdered someone
And because a thousand fan letters were sent in
They got to go free.
 Mar 2013 Molly Pendleton
Crush it up and blow it up your nose.
Straight to the brain cells.
Or through your cellular phone.

Leave it alone. Let it ring.
Your ringtones an artist,
Female, she sings.

If you pictured a zoey, a taylor
or faith, unlucky I call you
and put you in place,

for I only breathed,
and pictured her face.

She calls from a plain, while I can’t eat dinner,
My love keeps on growing, my bones getting thinner.

When she comes through the terminal,
I’ll want to say clear,
and embrace her with
hug and say to her ear,

“It doesn’t matter how many times  or when I see you,
you always take me by surprise”

It might be her style, or loving of fun,
how she keeps me awake after a day is done.

I’ll perch on this branch, while she soars the skies,
to meet her in mountains,
and look in those eyes.

That little powdered line went up fast and sharp,
but not to my brain, love goes straight to the heart.
 Feb 2013 Molly Pendleton
Do you love me,
or don't you?
Make up your mind.

Do you want to be with me,
or don't you?
Make up your mind.

My heart is ripping at the seams.
Do you see that?
Your beautiful nightmare is invading my dreams.
And the only thing that fills the night air are my screams.

Terror after terror,
Fright after fright,
My bad dreams all seem
to be part of a scheme,
to rip me apart
seam by seam.
 Feb 2013 Molly Pendleton
Eight hours of mindless torture
on a little three hours of sleep.
I feel suffocated and alone,
in a sea full of children.
My body wrenches, I’ve puked and shaken,
but that doesn’t matter to the authorities.

It’s about grades and status.
It’s all about status.
Mother demands me to be "popular."
Grandmother regards me to be,
at the absolute finest,
The best in front of others.
"Friends"  insult pictures.
What I want doesn't matter;
My "status" must be as tall as a tower.

It’s all about status in a world full of lies.
So what if I sit here and shake,
all that matters is that I don’t fail;
it doesn’t matter if I die.
 Jan 2013 Molly Pendleton
I find the places we have been
    miss us while we're away

for rivers to know laughter and then
          only the rush of water

            no parameters, no
         sense of urgency,
       nothing compares.
What do I do when the only person I care about
Doesn't know I exist
And is almost three times my age, anyway

And what am I to do when I'm only sixteen
And I'm not pregnant
So I couldn't possibly have any "real" problems

What am I supposed to do when I've run out of words
To say or write
And the ones I used to say and write were never really all that good in the first place

And what's next when I don't really feel like being alive
But then again
I don't want necessarily to be dead either
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