Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Apr 2023 ht
Beaux
If I die in a school shooting
I'll never go home again.
My room will sit unused,
A capsule frozen in time,
A snapshot of how I was.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my dog again.
She will sit at the front door
Waiting for me and wondering,
Why I never came home.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never graduate from high school.
My yearbooks will sit stacked
Stopped short of their goal,
Missing years that should have been.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my mom again.
She will sit distraught,
Planning a funeral
For a child taken from her.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my friends again.
They'll sit together, missing me.
One empty seat among them,
A constant reminder of their loss.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my little sister again.
She will sit through high school
Knowing I can't guide her through,
That she has to figure it out alone.

If I die in a school shooting
My school will be stained.
Pools of students lives will sit,
Blood tattoos on the brick structures,
Marks of death ground into it.

If I die in a school shooting
Everyone will wear black.
They'll send their thoughts and prayers
To a town marred by death,
Forever to be the home of a shooting.

If I die in a school shooting
Will the world change?
Or will I become one of hundreds  
Of kids who have to die?
What will it take?

If things continue this way
Children will have to live in fear.
They'll look over their shoulders
Always worried and wondering,
If they'll die in a school shooting.
The state of Florida is now home to the two most deadly mass shootings in American history. Pulse Nightclub was attacked in my city, I have friends who attend Marjory Stoneman Douglas in Parkland. My little sister often fears going to school. I'm afraid to graduate and leave her. I want to be able to protect her if something happens. I hate that we have a reason to be afraid... That it's reasonable to have these fears. I hate it so f*cking much.
 Apr 2023 ht
SpiritHeart67
Humanity
 Apr 2023 ht
SpiritHeart67
Sometimes
People
Are *****
And I find myself
Disappointed
With the entire species

Other times,
They do
the damnedest things,
Restoring my Faith
Just in the nic of time
 Apr 2023 ht
Maddy
Meow
HEHO HEHO
Huoh-Huoh
Listen to them
My dad would name them as they scooped found out of the unknowing hands of people on boardwalks
Flying over the blues and waves of the beach and the shore
How much can we learn from them?
Sometimes I am envious of their lives
They touch the blues of the skies and the light
To be that Seagull flying high

C@Rainbowchaser2023
 Apr 2023 ht
marie
.
 Apr 2023 ht
marie
.
embody my heart
and call it your art
I'll show you another view
maybe a different you
one you never knew
:p
 Apr 2023 ht
Joe
Class Gastropoda
 Apr 2023 ht
Joe
The snails look down on slugs
As vagabonds and vagrants
They shun them in the garden sheds
Get aggressive on the pavements

The slugs despise the landed gentry
Escargot **** yourselves they cry
But while they’re brabbling and bickering
Sparrows circle in the sky

The slugs slide in vain towards the hedge
And **** the snails to hell
But the snails no longer hear them
Safe inside a silent shell
 Apr 2023 ht
Kobayashi Issa
Don't worry, spiders,
I keep house
casually.
 May 2018 ht
Julia Betancourt
My best is half as good,
But that is to be expected from a girl
Whose parents never made her feel confident about living with a person
For the rest of your life.
I feel alone a lot,
And I am dependent on human connection only when
I start to feel misplaced by the universe.
I think in terms of galaxies rather than people,
Rather than in terms of me.
I'm useless-
But only because people can't use me.
They don't want to.
Why would they?
My hurt is not very visible,
But there is a lot of it in there.
Sometimes I play connect the scars
With my imagination,
And I remember I've failed in every aspect of my life,
Because I failed in one aspect of my life.
I'm tired of motivational social media posts,
And there are times where I don't like being around anyone.
I do not know how I am supposed to live with a person for the
Rest of my life.
I love someone,
But my best is half as good.
I like sitting in the dark in my solitude,
Because I feel like I'll be alone forever, and I am trying to prepare.
I want to be prepared for it-
So I can tell myself I'm happy,
So I can tell myself I'm meant for it.
I am tired of questioning if I can survive,
Or if my bedroom is my safe space,
If I will have this window view forever.
I am here because I feel like I failed you,
And if you are going to love me,
You should know this is how I feel at 8:39
On a Good day.
I'm tired because my Depression is still a piece of me and I'm
Ignorant.
I laugh about it,
Because I do not want anything to be too serious anymore.
I am a writer because I am Sad,
I am creative because I am Sad,
And you can't ever be Sad like me.
I am watching lightning out my window
And thinking,
How beautiful would it be if I could do that for you?
I cry a lot,
More than normal, I think.
I want to know if you are going to love me.
 Apr 2018 ht
Michelle Argueta
on a diner tv i watched a report
about a woman who found an injured bird
and saved it.
it was a slow news day, just afternoon fluff but
there’s something remarkable about someone,
a new yorker, no less,
who walks slow enough to notice the pigeons,
who sees one that’s hurt, and stops,
who, with two good hands, picks it up,
and keeps it warm against her chest,
who strokes its head, smooths its feathers,
tells it “soon, you’ll feel better”,
tells it things will be OK,
who takes the uptown C train
to bring it to a shelter,
and doesn’t care about the fare,
about the blood on her isotoners,
or really, even, about the reporter
who asks her why she would bother,
to which she answers
“what, you wouldn’t?”
i was having lunch alone at a diner in forest hills and this news story came on the tv and it just struck me, idk, enjoy
 Apr 2018 ht
Michelle Argueta
you’re staring at a wrench display
in a failing sears 10 minutes before closing
and don’t recognize the reflection in the stainless steel.
you’ve been here a million times,
run your fingers along band saws a million times,
memorized the store’s playlist, learned “Love Hurts" by Nazareth
but you’re still trying to find something that connects,
something to retrace the steps to what pushed you out the door,
placed cold hands in empty pockets, made you stop
to buy cigarettes and brought you here again.
your blood pumps slower in places of transition,
only walked through to get to the mall
or back through to poorly parked cars
and you know a lot about
being used to move on
but left behind.
an employee asks if you’re alright
and you say yes
because you know they’re running out their shift
and don’t want to deal with your ****
and how could you tell them
that today, your skin feels foreign.
maybe you’ll find something in
winter coats and blackout curtains
but until then you make a home
on a display mattress
because you only live in liminal spaces.
you’re only grounded
between phases, in inbetweens.
you rely on uncertainty and in this economy,
the sears might be gone before you realize you’ll miss it.
"love hurts by Nazareth
seeps through the speakers
inside of Sears."

- Julia Champagne "By Nazareth"

if you've been inside a sears at any point after like, 2011, i think you'll agree it's an otherworldly experience in the worst ******* way. we all find comfort in weird places sometimes though.
Next page