Pimple popping
Lathered deodorant
Awkward tampons
Hair in unwanted places
Drunken nights
Failed hangover cures
Flunked classes
Broken hearts
First kisses and first times
Rebounds
Hookups
Hickeys
Rushes of frustration
These are all
unglamorous occasions
Of a not so florescent
Adolescence

Dread
That's what we all feel when we think about it
Consistency 
Talking to someone every day
Asking how their day way all the time 
Caring so much 
It's a ******* pain
Right in your ****, not your ******, your ****
Ok some people might like that but you know what I mean
Always caring, always worrying, always wasting 
Wasting time 
With commitment 
The abundance of things you could partake in
If it wasn't for commitment
Maye I'm just a sad and alone loser playing Pokemon all day and no one loves me
This may be my bias
But just think of the
Dread
You get from 
Commitment

Pressure from someone else is called peer pressure
Look it up, google it, it's a thing
I apologize for the inaccuracy of my definition but you get the gist 
Peer pressure is a ******* ****** bag telling you to **** his **** when you don't want to
It's when "friends" tell you to have your first shot, smoke, sniff of whatever mood altering substance they want you to consume
Just watch a crashcourse, that **** is bad for you okay
It's when you kiss someone you don't want to
When you stay out late after your curfew 
When you sneak out late at night to meet the guy you have a "thing" with but everyone knows your his rebound
But peer pressure
Don't give in 
All your gonna feel
Is absolute regret

Bias 
Is a little ***** 
The alliteration is merely a coincidence 
But it is
Everyone has their own views 
Their own opinions
Their own perspective 
Negative or positive 
Like the moodswings of a mother in menopause 
It's still a *****
Hah just like your mother , jk
Bias is everyone 
Everyone has a bias
It's their perspective 
No matter their age, their IQ, or the amount of muscle mass on their perfectly chiseled body
They have a bias
It's rarely good 
So look out for that *****
Bias
It'll bite you in ***

Pretty is what people say you are
It's a status
Pretty is limiting your meals
Limiting yourself to two celery sticks for dinner
Pretty is whether boys like you or not
Pretty is throwing up at the end of the day
Pretty determines who your friends are
Who talks to you
Who looks at you
Who knows you exist
Pretty is what you wear
Pretty is having the spot light
Pretty fathoms your mere existence
Pretty hurts

You lack honestly
The mere bluntness I seek
Your shadowed emotions
Hidden, masked
Behind blurred,
Mixed signals

Submerged in frustration
Confusion
Trying to decode
Your thoughts
Your actions
Your words
Do they mean nothing?
Or is there something here?
A small spark to a flame
Growing at a brisk pace
Or perhaps its the end
The end of hope
My hope

You call me
Text me
Hug me
Even kiss me
You tell me how much I mean to you
How much you trust me
Then you stop

Not only do you lack honesty
But you are indecisive
Your emotions shadowed
Trapped, confined
Behind blurred,
Mixed Signals

Feelings are broken,
they mend,
and they they're broken again.
It ***** so you've gotta be a man and **** it up,
well with a ****** if you've got one. Breaking.
It hurts.
Hurricanes from hell destroying every inch of your body starting from the heart, the "center" of all the emotional ******* we call feelings.
That breaking is as if your 3Ds died after you beat Pokemon x.
That **** didn't save and is worth a few tears on that $55 topshop sweater all hormonal girls love.
That breaking is as if you stubbed your toe and you just got your nails done, it's as if u got a B+ not an A.
Well you get my point.
But that mending though,
that uplifting sensation you feel after you've hit rock bottom.
Emotional mending is like taking your bra off after a long day at school,
or work,
or whatever your occupation.
Now that's a simile.
Feelings are emotions,
Emotions are feelings.
It's all the same.
it always gets better,
then worse again.

Sheer shades of red
Sitting tightly on my hip
Enhancing my perfections
And disguising my flaws
An illusion of lucent confidence
In my own skin
Feeling your heated presence
In my midst
You amorously gaze
At your Aphrodite
Your muse
Glowing like ember
Creating a lustful aura
Surrounding us both
Those sheer shades of red
Are a wonder to us all

Sudden
Abrupt
Unexpected
These words describe a sensation
A sensation that fashions the soul
Molding, sculpting
The person I am today

Hyperventilation
Nausea
A sudden rush
Adrenalin
Slamming doors
Crowded, congested
Populously packed into a box
Air tight

Repetitiveness is a quality this one sensation possesses
Repeating
Over and over
Repeating

Fearing it
Fearing it's repetitiveness
Repeating all over again
Preventing me
From opportunities
Simple, basic, opportunities
While I'm still stuck
In the box
That populously packed box
All alone

Shouting
Till my larynx  
Rip and tears
But I'm left
Abandoned
With no response

This sensation
The panic
Has no end

A game
A joust  
Shouting voices
Piercing my ears
Ringing
Incalescent rage
Nimbus darkness
Consuming the soul
What is the point?
What is it's significance?
All for what?
Hubris?
Pride is the impetus we are too ashamed to admit
Admit that it is the cause of
Quarrel

First thing's first,
what he hell is it?
These definitions are endless, and Urban Dictionary ain't providing enough
That one person you meet for the first time,
that one glance,
that one smile, that one kiss.
Is lust mistaken for love?
We're probably all just ***** little ******* who wanna, well, ****.
That sure is what teenagers want to be doing these days.
Endless rushes of hormones,
blood rushing to our privates,
wet pants,
it's a similarity we all share with one another,
privately of course.
But those who chose to keep their "privates" on display are victimized for their over production of *** hormones and endorphins.
Adam and Eve sure has their junk hangin' out,
were they victimized?
Well they're dead and probably not real.
This point is not invalid,
to a degree anyways.
But back to the topic of love.
Love is that warm sensation you feel in your heart,
not your privates.
Love is when you have feelings for someone and they aren't mutual.
Love is when your in it for the long-hall no matter the consistencies.Love is a *****,
the kind that's ******.

A sudden surge
A cascade
Of blurred emotions
Devouring my soul
Becoming too difficult to acquiesce
Suffering, and diminishing into
Buckets
of tears

Failing to dissemble,
or eclipse my mental state
Unable to hear the echo
in that cold, musky cave
Reality seems elusive
Hard to grasp
Just out of reach
All because you're drowning in
Buckets
of tears

She always thought about him.
Every waking moment of every single day she thought.
His absolute perfection cherished her heart,
Lavishing her with faultless hugs, kisses, and affection.
She was saturated within the tenderness of his touch,
The desire that convenes within the obscure dimensions of her heart,
Her soul,
Her entity.
The entity that was brightened into a stream of gratitude and indulgence. Emanated from what seemed to be an eternal hell, he was
Salvation.
A deliverance of palliation,
Easing her with his captivating influence,
And relieving her of her poignant past.
She looks at him and his blemishes are blurred.
Admiring his frayed edges and his vial mistakes
They celebrate each other.
Lacking the sour stink of irritability.
Their love drowns in certainty without a single drop of ambivalence.
He heals her with his rigid fingers,
caressing her petite frame.
Reviving her from the depths of her severed self-esteem.
He is her,
Salvation.

Lust or love?
Which is it
That "love at first sight" 
It's a load of crap
Your just ***** , it's true
Thing is, it's simple biology 
Whether your too much of a ******* to admit it or not 
Or maybe your a hopeless romantic wanting your first ever kiss to be under the moonlight, surrounded by rose petals
And again
It's a load of crap
If you could just glance into the future 
With the doors of time left slightly ajar
You'd see yourself 
Heartbroken 
Cause your friend told you he used you for you ****
So 
Lust or love? 
Which is it
It's lust 
**** it up cause it's the truth

They anger her
make fun of her
tease her about her mistakes
Taunting her
Using the past as a weapon
While she looks over her shoulder
She drowns in an abundance of witty smirks and chatter
It swallows her
With no breathe left

They call her selfish
They say she has grown stone cold
Assuming while knowing nothing
Knowing nothing of the ache
Cluttered inside

They don't know she cares
She cares for more than herself
Her selfless heart embodies her mind
Overflowing beyond her limits
She is one who cares

She cares for those who have hurt her
And left her with frayed edges
They severe her trivial existence
She is alone
With only the wounds that fashion her shrivelled soul



She is misunderstood
Only if they knew that she cared