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Apr 2018 · 242
To an American Teen
Maxine Rosenfeld Apr 2018
You once said that you would always be there for me
You promised that you would stand by me when they started talking
You convinced me to tell and that it would all be alright
You lied right to my face
Did you ever plan on keeping your word
Or was I another plot to play out

When people started talking you packed up and left
The doors were locked and the keys thrown away
I am stuck sitting outside waiting for you to let me in
It’s cold and lonely here
You sit in your window looking down upon me
I'm still waiting

But this is all that we know how to do
When things are scary and hard we run
We build armor to protect ourselves not noticing our sword
It’s crashing on her
I never should have expected more from you
I'm sorry that I did

But you never did keep your  promise to me
You never did go talk to them about what happened
You pretend to this day to not know or care
But I know
I know how every night you will always regret not going with me
That regret never leaves

I used to wish and hope that my friend would come back
That somewhere she was still there waiting
I now know that she is gone forever
Not wanting to come back
I should walk away from the fortress she built
Leave it to crumble and crack

This pain I feel is not new
I just got really good at licking my wounds
I showed you all my scars and who caused them
You cut them open
It was like childsplay for you
My pain, your gain

Bitterness was soon to follow
I built up my armor and locked it in
I was doing what I knew; protecting myself first
Not seeing my hurt
Not noticing we were both drowning while you took the life saver
I disappeared like vapour

But this is what my life has become
People telling me my story is wrong
I'm stuck in this small paper house
About to blow down
I'm just another game of cat and mouse
This will end in disaster
Jan 2018 · 327
My Special Hiding Spot
Maxine Rosenfeld Jan 2018
In my bulging closet
On the floor
Lays a little girl
Balled up
Hugging her rainbow teddy bear
So sad, she is scared  

Her old princess dresses;
The ones she no longer believes in,
Brush her tear soaked hair
Her hair playing back with the tulle
Reminding her of the once bright screaming laughter
Only making her more sad, more scared

She yearns for the time daddy lifted her towards the sky on his strong shoulders
When mommy would drop anything and have tea parties with her big bright teddy bears
The times big brother had sleepovers and watched scary movies late at night
But now daddy doesn’t lift her anywhere,
But now mommy tells her that work is what pays for everything she thinks she wants,
But now big brother doesn't want to watch scary movies with her, and he watches them all alone

She still lays in her closet,
A brand new bleak gray closet
Now next to her rack of shoes;
Wishing daddy never gave us reason to leave
Wishing that mommy would blow off work just one more time
Wishing big brother would sit down and watch old scary movies with her

The little girl could not wait to grow up,
The big girl just wants to go back
One got what she wanted,
But it wasn’t what she was promised
She got the high heels and the mascara, even the shiny flute to play
And she also got all the lonely broken promises and pain from all of her experiences

And some things never do change,
The girl still cries, still scared and still lonely, in her closet
But now more sad, more alone than ever  
Wanting her pretty pink princess dresses
Her ugly itchy hot pink boas
And the fake sparkly plastic heels

She no longer wants to be a big girl
She says she wants to be a doctor, but really she is just scared to that say she wants anything else
She really wants big brother to come hug her during a scary movie, and sleepover, and guard her
She really wants weekly tea parties with mommy and big bright teddy bears
She really wants one last lift towards the sky from daddy, to finally grab that bunny cloud
She really wants, more than mommy and daddy and big brother, is the old rainbow teddy bear that she sat and cried with so many years ago.
Jan 2018 · 525
My Canvas
Maxine Rosenfeld Jan 2018
My skin is my canvas
But instead of paint
I use pain
Instead of a paintbrush
I use a blade

The pain of what they say to my face
One graceful stroke

The pain of what they say behind my back
Two graceful strokes

The pain of my own thoughts
Three less graceful strokes

The pain of my past
Four not so graceful strokes

The pain of how I scare people away  
Five ugly strokes

The pain of feeling alone, not in a crowd alone, just alone
Six disgusting strokes

The more pain I feel,
The more paint I leak
The more disgusted I become;
I now scare myself

But my blood still slowly trickles out
And just like paint, it can be washed away
Nothing too deep to leave a scar,
But deep enough to see my paint

To let the pain trickle out, with the paint
Until the pain starts again
And until I start painting, again
Jan 2018 · 2.7k
I am The Invisible Woman
Maxine Rosenfeld Jan 2018
I want what you have
I want your dreams; the ones that scare you shitless
I want your secrets; the ones you can’t share with anyone
I want the thoughts that keep you awake at night; the ones that excite you
I want the ideas you want to share; the ones you know you never will share

I need what you have
I need your arms around my waist; the arms that will never be there
I need your lips pressed against mine; the lips that mine will never touch
I need your ***** smile smiling at me; the smile that will never look in my direction
I need your stupid ugly khaki jacket around my shoulders; the jacket that will never be near me

I wish that I have what you have
I wish I had your idiotic confidence; the confidence that I will never get back
I wish I had your insanely smart brain; the brain that has put up barriers against me
I wish I had your annoyingly inappropriate jokes; the jokes that you stopped telling me
I wish I had your ability to captivate the world; the captivation you no longer use on me

I yearn for what we could have been
I yearn to have an unconditional love; one that will never break
I yearn to have uncontrollable kisses; ones that we are unable to stop
I yearn to have cheesy promposals; ones that make everyone jealous of us
I yearn for extravagant valentine's day gifts; ones that make me want to scream and cry

You don't want what I have
My dreams; the ones that will never happen
My secrets; the ones that will tear people apart
My thoughts that keep me up at night; the ones that can even terrify me
My ideas that I want to share; the ones that would wreak havoc on everyone

You don’t need what I have
My thick messy hair; the hair that constantly falls in my face
My ***** brown converse; the ones with the laces falling apart
My empty grey eyes; the eyes that stare straight at you watching you ignore me
My annoying voice; the voice that says ****** comments to protect herself from your friends

You don’t wish to have what I have
My brutal honesty; the honesty that burns bridges
My crazy distrust; the distrust that worries my mother
My unbelievable pessimism; the pessimism that causes people to leave
My need to control everyone; the need to control that consumes all of my thoughts

You don’t yearn for what we could have been
You don’t yearn for unconditional love; not with me
You don’t yearn for uncontrollable kisses; but with her
You don’t yearn to give cheesy promposals; you would do anything to be with her
You don’t yearn to give extravagant valentine's day gifts; you would give anything to be with her

No matter how much I want...need...wish...yearn for you
You will always be wanting, needing, wishing, and yearning for her more
She is the pulsing red dot you are moving towards
I am barely more than a blip on your radar.
Jan 2018 · 808
Scopaesthesia
Maxine Rosenfeld Jan 2018
I am a pariah. Some see me as a joke, some see me as a mystery, some see me as a hot mess. But they all see me and refuse to stop seeing me. They unforgivingly gape and gawk at me.

Everyone has their own version of the story, and I cannot tell you how many times I have been told that my version is wrong. They seem to forget that after all, it is my story, but then they remember, and then they stare.

The few people that I have left continue to attempt to explain that this will all blow over with time. It has been three months since the incident occurred. Three months of staring, stories, and acting as if I’m not hearing their versions. As if I’m not hearing them call me a ****. As if I’m not hearing them say that I liked what he did to me. As if I’m supposed to sit there and act like their condolences are genuine and fake a smile, just for them.

At this point, I am unsure if they are even staring anymore. I am uncertain if it is all in my head, or if this is what my life will be now. I am unsure if I will ever be able to be just looked over again. I am unsure of myself and my choices and my thoughts. I don’t even know if they are mine anymore.  

Sometimes I wish that I could implode and make a colossal scene, but then I remember that it would just make the stares last longer. So I sit there, stuck, having to take the stares and hear their stories and listen to my uncertainty. Because after all I am just another one of their stories, and subsequently I will eventually disappear again.
Jan 2018 · 235
Eric
Maxine Rosenfeld Jan 2018
I think of him and smile
when he says my name I burst
he makes a joke and I laugh for the whole world
when he asks if I'm okay I think he cares
but then I see him with her and remember he is not mine
that I am just a friend
a friend who he gives his jacket too when she is cold
a friend who offers to punch other guys for her
a friend who he kisses in a not friendly way
a friend who brings her work when she is sick and stays and studies with her
a friend who checks in with her mom when she is missing
a friend who he holds at a dance like a friend doesn't hold someone
but then I know that he is with her
not me
he will never be with me
because we are too scared
too weak
too surrounded
too wrong
love man kisses friendly friends friend cold sick theothergirl
Jan 2018 · 1.1k
Life is Unfair
Maxine Rosenfeld Jan 2018
unfair, unfair
life is unfair they say,
it will all be okay they say,
They Turn.

****, ****
you wanted it they say,
you should have known they say,
i Cry.

Quiet, Quiet!
shut up leave me alone i say!
make it stop i say!
i screamed.

pain, pain
i just want to feel something i think,
NO ONE even cares anymore i think,
i’m gone.

sorry, sorry…
we didn’t realize it was that bad they say,
we didn’t mean it they say,
They deceive.

good, good
she did this to herself they think
We did what we could they think  
They make excuses.
  
Unfair, unfair
Life is unfair i said...
Jan 2018 · 527
Frozen in speed
Maxine Rosenfeld Jan 2018
Mascara crusting, drying between tears
Core shaking with every wail
Head pounding, craving a breath of clear air
Right hand shaking uncontrollably needing control
Cheeks turning red, hot, and angry wanting revenge  

eyes closed silently
Memories blast past

His hand, my dark washed jeans, the only barrier between my skin and his
Muscles tense up
Pointer. Middle. Ring. Pinky, on the seam where one end meets another, thumb inside
Frozen in speed staring blankly across the room
Up three inches down one, repeat five times
Higher, higher, higher  
Hand grabs at my zipper
Instincts, do something
Run away

open eyes, back in my room
Still shaking, mascara still crusting, core still breaking, head still pounding.

the world doesn’t stop moving
not for me
not for him
not for anyone

Wipe away my tears
Get up off the bed
Walk over to the bathroom
Stare in the mirror

I don’t like what I’m looking at

Weak
Broken
Worthless
Nothingness

Lean against wall
Slowly slide down towards cool gray tile
Icy cold hits my upper thighs

Close my eyes

Lean over the ground
Hair strands surround my face
Heat rushes over my body

Sleep arrives
Sleep takes over
I let it take control
I give in
Jan 2018 · 175
Petrified
Maxine Rosenfeld Jan 2018
I am scared;
constantly
scared that I will see him
walking into the grocery store
going out to eat
shopping at the mall
that I will turn around and see him
and the only thing worse than being scared of seeing him is not seeing him
not getting an apology
not getting to scream
not even getting to stand in front of him utterly terrified
but having to think of how he is moving on with his life
new school
new people
a whole new start
how I am stuck sitting here writing about him
how I can’t move on
how I am stuck
stuck here
writing to you
Jan 2018 · 424
This Time
Maxine Rosenfeld Jan 2018
Stares burn through me
Conversations stop
Whispers spread
Rumors start

Sitting in the back of the room
Nails gripping into my skin
I want to scream
It flashes back

Can I go to the bathroom
Check under the stalls
Slip up cry, go away
Clean makeup

Walk into the room and sit down
People stop and stare
Class starts again
I don’t

Watching the clock high on the wall
Waiting for the hand to move
Grabbing books
Running

They are all talking about you
You need to come back
I will be there for you
It will be better

I'm forced to come back by others
Cold cuts through me
I can’t breath
I see them

I can suddenly breath
I smile back at them
Others look
Oh no

Stares burn through me
Conversations stop
Whispers spread
Rumors start

It will all go away soon sweetie
They will stop talking
Just trust me
Please

Walking the halls once again, again for them  
The same cold rips through me
It is not better
Not at all

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Jan 2018 · 449
Because
Maxine Rosenfeld Jan 2018
If I could I would fill the room with roses
If I could I would hire a string quartet
If I could I would get down on one knee
and propose

If we could we would buy a house with a white picket fence
If we could we would have three perfect children
If we could we would grow old together
and die together
But we can’t.
because of the things they said
because of the looks they gave
because of the thoughts you heard
because of the heart they broke
because the bottle was close
because death was warm and welcomed
because of them.
We can’t die together
grow old together
have three children together
buy a house together
I can’t propose
can’t get down on one knee
can’t hire a string quartet
can’t fill the room with roses
Because of them.

— The End —