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 Nov 2013 rachel
Ryan Topez
I've seen her once before,
Two years ago to be exact.
I followed her through an art exhibition,
A Tim Burton exhibition in fact.

Thoughts of her pale face,
Taunted me for years.
Like film reels, pictures played in my head.
From ear to ear.
Year to year.

I politely apologised to the people I ran into.
Never before had apologies fallen from my mouth,
So insincere.

My mind was on auto-pilot,
My body was in flight.
The people I nudged past were merely complications in the weather.
Storms, on a grey sky night.

She walked into a room,
Not a soul inside.
And as sure as I was unsure,
I trailed behind.

When I entered the room,
With not a soul inside,
She was not there.
Had she gone outside?
Had she disappeared into the brisk air of the night?

I despised myself for such anticipation

Well **** me,
Had I been deceived?
Why would my mind play such unpleasant tricks on me?
And enforce a false sense of reality?

The epitome of deceitful lust.
Was my mind, like most things in my life
Something I would have to learn,
Not to trust?

Two years later,
I saw her once more.
And two years later
Her pale face, I explored.
 Nov 2013 rachel
Morgan
One day you'll hear a song
for the very first time
and it will fill you with nostalgia
You'll say it makes no sense at all
But you can hear it playing
in the background of your
entire life somehow

One day you'll meet someone
for the very first time
and you'll feel at home
You'll say it makes no sense at all
But you can see that smile
in every wrinkled picture on
the walls of your old bedroom

One day you'll wake up in a place
that you've been in for the past four years
And you'll feel lost
You'll say it makes no sense at all
But you just don't know if you belong
The song Trucker's Atlas by Modest Mouse inspired dis **** because that song sounded like it was part of my whole life the first time I ever heard it
 Nov 2013 rachel
Pluto
scarlet
 Nov 2013 rachel
Pluto
you are beautiful,
but in the way that scares me-
like the end of a cigarette.
beautiful ashes that disperse in the wind
but warm to the touch
and causes scars when pressed against skin.
it's eerie to think
that the smoke surrounding you
and getting between your clothes and tangled mess of hair and face
is slowly rotting you on the inside,
eventually killing you.

(do you see what you're doing to me, scarlet?)

you are stunning,
like the moon on a stormy night.
you stand out amongst the dark clouds and lightning strikes
but do nothing to stop the thunderous booms
and heavy rain pelting down upon me.
you simply watch; serene and illuminated,
you watch
me
suffer.

but you are dark
not the mysterious darkness of a newly discovered cave
or dingy attic begging to be explored,
but a darkness that has become familiar to me
the gloominess of a soul
the dimming of a heart-
you've put out every light of hope and belief
I've ever known
and you've ignited the fire that holds no luminescence,
only the ability to burn and smoke
the fire of pain; your fire.

and it is (you are) corroding me.
 Nov 2013 rachel
IAB
I carve into my skin-
Hopeless similes,
Accolades of caustic sin.
That take the form of love-stained lines:
Sentinel of society's confines.
 Nov 2013 rachel
wiltedaisies
its impossible to write about missing you
when i try search for the right words
all i find is a vast ache that swells
right underneath my solar plexus
as if someone had taken sorrow
and poured it into my soul

wells form between my eyelashes
you looked terribly ill when i saw you last
along with the leaves you withered to the floor
the colour drained from your radiant eyes
your skin pale and lifeless

my nana gave me hopeful words
"stay strong and she will too"
but you didn't stay strong, did you?
and did she? of course not
she tore every inch of herself apart
oceans spilled from her eyes
creating a puddle on the floor
which she drowned herself in

im not angry; im just upset
my great nana died in 2007, she would of been 94 today and it still hurts; i have an english exam tomorrow so i guess writing this was part of my revision anyway
He decided to put it off.
To not tell her how he really felt.
He thought it would change things,
And boy did it, but not how he expected....

He thought she would climb mountains and cross rivers to earn his love.
He thought he was too good for her.

When in reality, she was the one to escape when she didn't get what she wanted.

Her instincts told her he was bad news. But like any other adolescent wreck, she desired a bad boy. Her best friend accused her of insanity as she fell for the motorcycle-riding, cigarette-rolling, tattooed rebel. But she simply ignored it.

You had to give him props: he wasn't all bad:
He made her feel special, made her feel wanted. Held her hand in public, took her for romantic rides, listened to her as she spilled her feelings out to him on top of his garage, gazing longingly at the stars.

But as soon as it came down to the three magic words, he let his opportunity slide right by him.

From then on, he played hard to get, not opening up to her as easily, and the signs were clear as crystal to her.

She left him in a heartbeat.

Now he lies alone, yearning for the days when he has someone to hold.
He was afraid to admit he missed her, but missing her was all that he knew to do.

Now riding her very own Harley Davidson, she rides off into the night, forgetting the boy who refused to admit he loved her..
 Nov 2013 rachel
troubledteenx
school

a swirling black hole
of unhappiness
teasing
taunting

kids with sad secrets walk the hallways
sleeves pulled down around their knuckles
wrists tainted with red tears
facing each school day with dread

praying for it to all stop

cs.
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