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Molly Pendleton Jun 2011
I stood there
In the dim lights of our den

A place once cherished
But now otherwise ignored

It had become his
Hiding place

His refuge for
When he wouldn’t speak

At those times
Like right now

I would stand there
Behind him

Delicately trailing random patterns
On his sweat-soaked tee’s back

He used to dress nicely
Plaid polos and such

But ever since she passed
He was rather shoddy in his appearance; sloppy

I could feel his body
Rise and fall

Each breath shorter and less healthy
Than the last

But I said nothing
Simply humming softly

Finally he lifted his head
His pale, pallid skull

Topped with slightly thinned
Reddish hair

It’d been so thick before
Before she passed

He turned slowly
To face me

His face was a sickly purple so unlike the warm peach
It’d been when she was alive

His lips were pale and chapped
Unlike their previous full pink

And they were shuddering violently
As he tried to speak

After another moment of silence
Eventually he did

If you’d just been

He whispered
In a harsh, raspy voice

His now yellowed teeth that he once prided in deeply
Gleamed in the den’s faded light

If you had just
Kept your **** mouth shut

He elaborated
In a sour undertone

I felt my stomach sickening itself
But refused to show reaction to his words

If you had just been able to silence yourself for a ****** minute
She would not have died

I knew it was true
And so I did not try to stop him as he stood

He was gone within hours
To accompany her

To abandon me
The idiot that could not keep quiet

Thus now I am what you might call a

For silence is a friend
That never betrays
Molly Pendleton Jul 2012
Childhood taught me
To hide behind boys
With bright eyes and muddy sneakers
Whom’s laughter and
Enamored smiles
Would protect me from my feelings

Early adolescence was a time
To experience the many firsts
Actual desire
The denial inducing judgment
That always
Comes with it

The stage of time you might name ‘now’
Has been a breath of fresh air
And honesty
That no matter how differently I
We are all the same
Molly Pendleton Mar 2011
If you looked closely
You could find a god
Among the populous
Inside of mankind
All you’d have to do
Is find a man with
A Hunched over back
Because he is Atlas
And he carries the burden
Of the world’s ugly truth
On his very own shoulders
Molly Pendleton Sep 2011
My inspiration
Acts a fickle fickle ***
Woe is me; return
Molly Pendleton Jul 2012
Sphere of

Hangs as an

The inky

The blackened

Instances beneath the lunar

Swathe me in

A murky
Déjà vu

Pulls forth clouds

All the aging

Or perhaps a storm

Between me and
Molly Pendleton Sep 2011
I catch myself

Thinking about you

Reminiscing about
Every feature you possess

**** this life!

And **** our distance
I’m missing you too much
Molly Pendleton Sep 2012
I know I haven’t been
‘Around’ for awhile

(In more than one way,
but that’s a story for another time…)

My apologies for that
But I want to tell you

About a girl
That loves the world

She loves cats in silly costumes
She loves taking her socks off at the end of the day

She loves eating till her tummy aches
She loves the rain and the boots that it requires

Cheery, isn’t it?

But somehow those ‘loves’
Aren’t the right ones

They’re not the brand or type
Or whatever the hell

That she needs
And craves deep down inside

Which results in a little thing
I like to call depression

Which results in
Suicidal thoughts

Which results in
Blades and blood and tears

And all the effects in
‘Those categories’

Not too cheery is it?
Molly Pendleton Jan 2013
I cannot really love
At the moment

But you know what I can do?

I can still


And their beauty
Admittedly, their bodies as well

For their long dark hair
And big, round, soft…
And their disproportionate noses
Or baby fat laden cheeks

I can still appreciate it all

And every woman
Needs a little more
Doesn’t she?

I am here to serve
To appreciate
But not to love
Molly Pendleton Mar 2011
In the somber and grave cemetery I stand alone
The wispy wintry winds whipping my hair to and fro
Though the tears sting at my eyes I refuse to let them go

They do not deserve to
I did not appreciate
What I had once had
I only realized I
Was sorry for my neglect
When I could not return
The human life I had toyed

Death is an unforgiving giver
Because if you are to come hither
You will receive something you are bound
To shatter or misplace among others
And Death will not refund your purchase
And your credit with him shall be soiled
Never again will he reward you

In the somber and grave cemetery I stand alone
The wispy wintry winds whipping my hair to and fro
Though the tears sting at my eyes I refuse to let them go
Molly Pendleton Dec 2011
My mind turns
In perfect rounds

Of thoughts that
Revolve you

Like ugly

Planet Earth
Follows one

Golden sun
I quite like this one. Metaphors are a pain for me.
Molly Pendleton Jun 2011
Matted autumn leaves cling
To every surface
The cold concrete streets
The orangey red brick walls
The chipped facade exteriors
Of road lamps much like me
The peeling rusty paint
Dotted by bits of dampened foliage
Little knotted up black things
While road lamps don’t give a ****
I have to pick them off my clammy skin
And then they get under my nails
They are abundant right now
Like all the other frustrations of my daily life
Sneaky little *******
The air is incredibly damp
It’s thick with fog
Carrying with it a familiarly pungent
But ever revolting scent
Of a funky little diner down the street
That makes my freckled nose wrinkle
Reminiscent of the scent of past disgusts
Molly Pendleton Jun 2011
Matted autumn leaves cling
To every surface
The cold concrete streets
The chipped facade exteriors
Of road lamps and me

Hugging my clammy skin
Little knotted up black things
That I have to pick off my skin
Only to have them get under my nails?
Those are abundant right now

The air is incredibly damp
It's thick with fog
Carrying a familiarly pungent
But ever disgusting scent
Of a funky little diner down the street
Molly Pendleton Jun 2011
It was as
I floated there
The chilled waters licking
At my bare skin
The hot sun soothing
My stressed muscles
That I realized
In her rather warm
That I really did
Like Her
Scratch That
That I really did
Love her
So with
Vague butterflies
A soft smile
And a gentle tug
I pressed her mouth
To mine
Tasted chlorine
Lip balm
And love
Molly Pendleton Jan 2012
Why if you could see
The day’s bright blueberry skies
It’s like your blind eyes
Molly Pendleton Jul 2012
I have no faith
In an existing deity
I’ve never knelt down
Whispered my regrets
Darkest secrets or desires
To my ‘Lord’

But I do not think this makes me
Any less human
Than you; if anything
I am worth far more
Despite my lack of belief
In the goodness of humanity

Because there is something
Or someone; who
Through late night talks
Of astronomy and lions
And silly nicknames
Has given that to me

I have faith
In this one young man
Enough to kneel down to his ear
Whisper my regrets
My darkest secrets and desires
He is worth more than an imaginary Lord
Molly Pendleton Jul 2012
I painted my nails today
For the first ever time
And not gonna lie

I did a pretty **** job of it

But such feminine activities
Were just the things I ran from
As a child

In muddy sneakers and men’s tees

Just like my emotions
Or any real feelings I had
Jealousy, Admiration, Love

For I; all brazen and foolhardy was

Too tough for silver nails
Or pigtails and tears
Even true love
Molly Pendleton Feb 2012
He had a shine
You had unseen

He complimented my glow
You set our image

I want to burn the city with you
You want the world’s
Molly Pendleton May 2013
You’re so uncontrollably sweet
A tooth ache and diabetes
All wrapped up in a lovely foil
But my touch is like water and
I would hate to make you melt
Molly Pendleton Mar 2012
The long spindly legs
Of our Lord Centipede

Are raw and weak from
The way they’ve been dragged

Through unforgiving ground
It imprints them with sensitivity

Till each limb is trained to dodge
The earth that makes them weak

The slick land of jealousy
Or the unsuspecting pebbles of insecurity

If a single appendage trips up
On such emotional hardships

Lord Centipede crashes
Oh so brutally down
Molly Pendleton Oct 2011
Erase my whole history
Forego what I’ve


I’ll change my name
To Charlie Parker

Molly Pendleton Aug 2011
Personally I think the photo
That really captures ‘me’

Is the one of a little blonde child
Perhaps two or maybe three

Donning a muddy navy blue dress
And little scuffed up Mary Janes

With the widest most manic grin
Little fingers clenched tightly into fists

As if to say to me
“Let’s tear this **** up!”
Molly Pendleton Oct 2011
She kept all her emotions
Monitored by a rather
Peculiar body part
Her eyebrows

They were
The distinct way
She used to communicate
I learned to read her impeccably

A sudden shift; low drop
Of dark blonde brows
Was displeasure and
Soon brooding

A quirk
Or amused twitch
Meant she liked whatever
Ridiculous pickup line I’d used

Those golden ridges became my
Guide to a mystery
I always tried
To solve
Molly Pendleton Jul 2012
She walked on her toes
Knobby knees bumping together
Forming a tomato colored patch
On her soft pale skin

Hours I wasted
Watching that pastel flesh rise
And fall
I did not comprehend why I did

Hours I wasted
Learning for myself
To correct my stance
Tan myself to a bronze shade of ‘beauty’

While she still walked on her toes
Knobby knees bumping together
Forming a tomato colored patch
On her soft pale skin

I began to comprehend why I
Watched that pastel flesh rise
And fall
Learning that the answer was ‘wrong’

Hours I wasted
Just to have my brain bleached
Her funny stance and bruises

All for
The sake of
Society’s very own
Molly Pendleton Jun 2011
I am content
To just sit here
I do believe
I am content
To just sit here
Watch you bloom and
Watch you blossom
Witness you cry
Witness you suffer
Observe you mature
Observe you nurture
But remain the
Exact same myself
I am content
To just sit here
I do believe
I am content
To just sit here
While you are the
One to live life
Everything that
I am far too
Frightened and
Immature to
Ever do myself
I do believe
I am content
To just sit here
Because I am
A coward myself
Molly Pendleton Nov 2011
Hundreds of homes sit
Cookie cutter produced

With manicured red rose bushes
And fences painted by immigrants

The suburban white breads
Flock to these copycat communities

Eager to fit in with their pale skinned
Blue eyes babies and mother-father pair

It’s all pleasant and just a bit
Creepy; the lack of contrast

How are we to manage happiness
With such tasteless lives?


I’d like to take a hammer
To these mass produced homes

And hack their roses to mush or
Kick their fences to splinters

To make a **** original piece
No matter how bizarre or damaged

So that our skin color, our ***, would be
The last thing to be seen as ‘weird’

Maybe then we’ll be content with the contrast
In a home that just breathes our presence

Even if we’re out and about; living
No part of us, even our home, will conform

To the standards of society
Been in a rut for awhile, but I think I'm breaking free.

Written for Jasmine.
Molly Pendleton Jun 2011
I cannot miss your touch
I was oblivious, and never really felt it
I didn’t know you’d be gone so soon

I cannot miss your voice
What I thought at the time was listening, wasn’t good enough to memorize it
I didn’t know you’d be gone so soon

I cannot miss your scent
I never braved the proximity it would’ve taken to know your musky whiff
I didn’t know you’d be gone so soon

I cannot miss your taste
I was too ***** to ever go after you, or your flavor
I didn’t know you’d be gone so soon

I cannot miss the sight of you
Though I saw you, I didn’t learn your appearance well enough
I didn’t know you’d be gone so soon

Now that you are gone
I hate that I was so cowardly; so craven
And don’t have the vaguest remembrance of what you really were
Written on 8/5/11 about something that occurred on 8/9/10.
Molly Pendleton Oct 2011
From musky golden cologne
That lets me pretend
Molly Pendleton May 2013
I have been living in the warm womb of solitude
For the past few months of my existence

Enjoying all the numbed emotional experiences my fetus-y form can handle
Feeding off my friends and family to steal their wisdom and words

Stealing their past revelations and independence and growth
Growing pounds like a puppy and gaining inches like a tapeworm

Till my previously battered brain begins to crave
The aches and pains of heartbreak once more

Yearning for the cold, unforgiving air of reality on my newborn skin
After nine months of solitude and twelve weeks of young love

Searching wantonly for the sensations I left behind
Such as the warmth of a girl’s fingers between my own

My mind demands something more rigorous to live through
My mind, a scarred warrior, craves a new challenge

Something for it to be beaten and bloodied and crushed by
Something for it to mourn and learn from and conquer

For you see; the wings within my spine are quivering
They’re rippling with excitement at the thoughts in my head

The thought of finally, finally, finally
Getting back out into the world again
Molly Pendleton Sep 2012
The human body is a beautiful thing
It’s all emotions and organs and strength and power
Wrapped up in a seamless casing of warm flesh
With blood circulating throughout each limb
Meant to function no matter what occurs
And thus one might think that God or Science or whomever

So brilliant and wise would make us a little more… resilient

So that my emotions wouldn’t be a befuddled mess
Certain organs wouldn’t ache with pain and desire
My strength wouldn’t fail me when I needed it most
That power wouldn’t hurt those I’m near
The flawless skin I was blessed with would still appear as such
And I wouldn’t be leaking blood all across the floor
Molly Pendleton Jul 2012
People say teenage love
Is a burst of butterflies
Or a set of flushed cheeks

Oh how wrong they are

I say teenage love
Is a quaking nausea
Or a set of nails bitten raw

And if it is butterflies
Then they knaw at your insides
Till you bleed

The reddened cheeks are
A result of pulling
On the baby fat you loathe

Teenage love
I say
Is far from pleasant
Molly Pendleton Jun 2011
My thoughts
Musings and views
They’re a train
A bullet train
And they’re driving
Steaming along
Steering straight only
To hit another train
That smashes it all to pieces
Everything I’d thought
I finally had figured out
Shattered quite plainly
Making me realize how
Foolish I was for thinking
I had even the one proper theory
On how the whole world works
How absurd
Not a poem of its' own, just a series of thoughts I haven't yet managed to pull into their own separate piece. These words or this analogy might be used later if I'm feeling inspired.
Molly Pendleton Aug 2011
Is it strange for me to say
That with the passing of
Yet another year
I’m most certainly young but I feel

So much as occurred since passing
That simple little thirteen
Quite literally
Cancer, Sexuality, Grades
But also figuratively I suppose

Even in youth it seems
That I bear so many more scars and wrinkles
And so much more knowledge
Than my peers
It’s as if I’ll need a walker soon
Short and simple. Just looking for an outlet before I continue my day. Hope you enjoyed.
Molly Pendleton Aug 2011
Often time’s girls will be flocked around me; bubbly and bright
Babbling on about whatever ‘adorable’ antics
The various boys they’ve been stringing along
Have cooked up to impress them

And I just think to myself

About how half baked these dates and plans are
The pathetic plans to go to ****** little fast food joints
Every other idiot hormonal teenage boy
In the midst of wooing with his current consumer

And I just think to myself

That oh my stars, I could do so much better
If it weren’t for the blind eyes of these lovely girls
I could be a chef of a million stars
Compared to the pitiable plans they’ve been spoon fed for oh so long
Molly Pendleton Aug 2011
Oh look and see him
That fellow on the pedestal there
He’s the golden boy, Mr. Perfect, number one
How did he get there you ask?
What did he do that was so magnificent
It allowed him to wow you all
To climb to the top?

Because while he’s been there
On his ever glorious podium
Sitting on his fat *** and humming
I've been using ****** busted claws
To desperately try and reach that place
Through academics and sports and awards and things
As he got all the attention for no ******* reason

Why you all can’t just see my value?
Is it you or I that’s blind?
Can’t you see my use; the benefits I’d bring you?
Or at least, realize how fractured his stupid golden boy image is
And see the tantrum throwing *** that screams at me?
It must be me who’s blind, and not just that
I’m also worthless
Vent piece. I'm very upset at the moment, I hope the real emotion in this poem speaks to you.
Molly Pendleton Sep 2012
I do not want you to
Enjoy my poetry
I want it to hurt you
My unbridled teenage rage
And angst
Don’t you dare smile
Or laugh at the times that I
Am suffering through
I want my words to sting your eyes
Till tears burn in the corners
Making your vision a foggy
******* mess so you can see nothing else
You do not know anything of
What I am going through
Do not try to empathize or relate
To these bruising words
Let them hurt you, maim you
If you want to help me
Let me hurt you
Molly Pendleton Aug 2011
She stared me down
Her eyes harsh and vicious

And maybe just a bit fearful

"I can't give you what you're used to
I'm not experienced like the others"

"I don't have the answers you're looking for"

There was just the slightest quiver
In her softened lips

A sign of her hesitation to speak her mind

My own expression was curled into
A gentle, almost amused smile as I replied

"I'm not hard to please"
Molly Pendleton Sep 2011
I love to brood and live
In obscure gloom

She cuts it all away
The shadows I hide in

It's refreshing really
To see the days again

But it’s been so long
These lights burn
Molly Pendleton Aug 2011
Who am I even trying to fool anymore?
I’m just waiting for someone to call me out

Someone to see the absolute absurdity
Of everything I’ve been trying to be

I’m such an idiot; as if anyone could ever like me
Or anything I tried to fake being
Molly Pendleton Aug 2011
Pounding down on the pavement
Thrusting your arms to an irregular
Yet somehow natural pace
Legs rippling in a painful bliss
Ears burning from the screams of watchers
You have the stupidest
But happiest look on your face

Racing like an absolute mad man
Letting every other thing in the world
All the troubles that cling to your muscles
Finally release their  slimy chokehold
To let you shake your thoughts away and
With sweaty locks of hair plastered to your face
Make the final stride
Not my best, but very inspired. Hope you enjoy.
Molly Pendleton Aug 2011
Really? You’re trying to write poetry about how
A girl broke your heart?

I thought you could at least try
Not to be so stereotypical

But I suppose even the wisest of the fools
Such as yourself have flaws as well

Yours is your heart of gold
Molly Pendleton Mar 2011
On my knees I am
The warm dusty gravel
Clinging to my knobbed knees
Watching with a sick fascination
The blooming love between
A boy and a girl
Harvesting their elementary romance
With sheer glee

I remember my shame
Glaring at my shriveled bud of love
Whilst surrounded by all these
Blossoms of love
When I feel like a
Mediocre Gardener in a patch
Of Blue Ribbon winners

But finally I come to bloom
A rose of my affection
If I so choose I can
Give to you

Now I see that no sprout
Can flourish or breathe
It you snip it short
At the bud

We flourish now
With brighter petals and sweeter appearances
Because waiting was the right thing for me
We flourish now
Molly Pendleton Jan 2014
I am not in love with her
Or lust, or infatuation
But nonetheless;  
She leaves her mark
Traces of herself all over me
Mahogany stains bleed through on my fingertips
Streaks of purple smudgings are left in my ear canals
Trickles of red wine are swept along my tender neck
Oozing down, down, down, down
And I cannot scrub this from my skin
No matter how many hours I waste
Lathering myself up into a foam of obliviousness
Still at the end of the day she is there, intriguing as ever
Trapping me again
In this foggy purple haze
Molly Pendleton Jul 2012
I cannot see

Everything is blurry
And intimidating

Yet warm
Warm enough to convince me

To open my eyes once more
Only to be blinded a millionth time

Quite similar to real life
Isn’t it?
Molly Pendleton May 2013
He and I are different you see

He has a spare tire around his belly
And mine is soft and riddled with freckles

He’s got a part him ravaged by cancer
And I’m tainted with signs of depression

His forehead is bigger and smattered with speckles
Mine is pale and hidden with frazzles of blonde hair

He thinks economically and can be a bit assuming
I think way too much and yet am ridiculously oblivious

But he and I are the same you see

Despite the factors in between us
We’re forever linked by kin
And I am forever grateful
Molly Pendleton Jul 2012
Who is he, Who is he
The broad shouldered
Stubbly chinned
Tired eyed
He is a young man

Who is she, Who is she
The sloping shouldered
Sparsely peach fuzzed
Bright eyed
She is a young woman

Why is he, Why is he
Squishing inside her small frame
Scraping his beard against her shaven face
Marring her youthful eyes with his tiredness
He is a young man

Why is she, Why is she
Crippling her stroll with his swaggering stomps
Darkening her skin with his brunette stubble
Masking his age with her dazzling irises
She is a young woman

Who is he
Who is she
Why is he
Why is she
Molly Pendleton May 2013
Gender is not a tangible object
It is not something concrete
Which can be held like a hand
Or felt between your fingers
So why do we give it such
Hard edges and boundaries?
Aren’t the things we imagine
Meant to be limitless?
If in our minds we can fly
Or have infinite money
Then why is gender
Some moronic made-up concept
To go along with our genitals
So rigidly defined?
My biological *** may be connected to my junk
But my gender is not
It is not there for doctors to examine
For its’ health or girth
You cannot unzip my pants
Or the thoughts in my mind
To find my gender
Get that through your ******* head
Molly Pendleton Jun 2011
Quit doing that, girlie
Them fiber threads
That you keep on plucking apart
Drawing ‘em out till they snap
Like they’re **** corn silk?
They goin’ break if you don’t stop it
Them my ****** brain cells
Quit doing that, girlie

Quit doing that, girlie
You keep on strumming
Them ****** chords
You know them chords
Them red ***** chords?
They goin’ break if you don’t stop it
Them my ****** heart strings
Quit doing that, girlie

Quit doing that, girlie
All that laughter you keep on doing?
Ya know, that lilting giggling ya do?
Well it’s like ****** syrup
Leaking n’ logging up my ears
They goin’ break if you don’t stop it
Them my ****** ears
Quit doing that, girlie

I just might break.
Molly Pendleton Oct 2012
I have gone under; I’m drowning
The whirlpools of your eyes
Russet and Sepia so
Striking me hard
On the noggin
In the heart
Till I am
Molly Pendleton Jul 2012
Those fortunate enough
To be living without
Anxiety; believe
It is like a disease

But in reality
It is a creature that
Thrives in environments
Which tickle the senses

A pair of noisy heels
Can drum up fear in me
That clutches to my ears
Which rash and mulish force

The itch of a shirt tag
Consumes my attention
Deletes my feeling any
Other touch but that pain

An acid taste of foul
Street side food I received
From a pushy hawk
Stirs more than nausea

Such sensations are
Unremarkable to
Those anxiety free
Cause they don’t live like me

Where such surroundings
Have a vice grip on the
Mentally unstable
They cause a pain unseen
Molly Pendleton Aug 2011
It’s an easily known fact
That I bite my nails
I mean, just look at them,
The uneven, reddish picked skin
It's blatantly obvious

But it’s funny how easily you can relinquish
A lifelong habit like biting your nails
If a pretty girl takes you fingers in her hands
Kisses each individually and says, with the most adorable pout,
“No biting!”

I never knew I could drop a habit so fast
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