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Sarah MacCoy Jan 2014
One day I am going to die
I’ll be here one moment and gone the next
You’ll be surrounded by my memories
Maybe I’ll be able to come visit
Maybe I’ll be stuck in the inbetween
Not able to live in the world of the living
Not able to live in the world of the dead
It makes me feel uncomfortable
One day I am going to die
It’s not just a thought,
It’s a fact.
Why do I choose to live when I’m going to die one day
It feels like life is pointless
but it’s not.
I live to wake up beside him in the morning
I live to smell spring
I live for all the people who couldn’t
For all the memories that are to be made
Everyday is the best day
Because present is all you have
The past is behind you
The future is ahead of you
And one day you’re going to die.
Sarah MacCoy Jan 2014
His name sounds like happiness
It feels like home
A comforting feeling comes over me when I hear it
When he picks up a guitar
His eyes light up and a smile appears on his face
His fingers dance across the strings
The trot fox, the waltz, the tango
You can see the happiness and the love on his face
I once told him that’s how I feel when I look at him
He has that freckle above his lip
A smile that makes me swoon
I wake up beside him and there’s no place I’d rather be
Almost every morning he comments on my eyes
I don’t have to comment
He knows what I’m thinking
I know what he’s thinking
I smile
He kisses my forehead
And pulls me into his chest
Love is spelled Riley
Sarah MacCoy Dec 2013
Why do you think society expects you to
1. Dress the same
2. Talk the same
3. Have the same problems
4. Laugh at the same thing
5. Look your best at all times

Because you let it.

We’re tired of seeing the exact same photo of you with the exact same people in a different bathroom mirror every Friday night.

Why can’t you hangout with other people?
Will it ruin your “rep” that much?

Is it really necessary to get hammered every weekend?
Why are we the ones who have to sit in one spot while you rotate around the room telling the same story to every one of your “friends”

Are you sure they’re your friends?
Because they talk behind your back

Why do you stay with that *******?
You know he’s hitting on twenty other girls, including your “best friend”

You spend money to look like you work for ***** Wonka.
Can anyone say Oompa Loompa?

How come we can’t make it through Instagram without knowing your order for Starbucks?
One grande non-fat white soy peppermint mocha at exactly 120 degrees with an extra shot of syrup extra whip and sprinkles put in the cup before anything else. Please?

We can’t afford to buy gas masks just to walk by your locker.
Spraying that much perfume is deadly.

We can never tell if you’re trying to smell nice or trying to start chemical warfare.

Is that makeup or a mask?

Your bra makes you a C-cup but you’re really only an A-cup.
Shhh, we won’t tell the boys.

Is it necessary to stop in the middle of the hallway to talk to your friends?
No, get out of the way please.

We know you have a car
You don’t have to walk around holding your keys all day.

Why do you spend so long trying to perfect the “messy bun” look?
Boys aren’t looking at your hair.

People don’t see you,
they just see your persona.
Slam poem done with Mattea Koebernick in creative writing.
Sarah MacCoy Dec 2013
Run
We're all small children on the inside,
Dreaming of those whimsical patches of clover.
You wander through the mystical field
Holding your favorite rad toy kaleidoscope.
The creativity flows from your fingers
You use words like gargantuous
Maybe one day you'll come to realize your celtic heritage
Which explains your love for clovers
Or you may become an activist
Who knows

For now you wish to linger
In the unique fields of your mind
Your peaceful moment becomes suspenseful
Your equilibrium starts to shift
You slowly begin to slip
Slipping back into reality
But not by choice
You're only a diligent insomniac

Your dream was voluptuous
It revived your senses
You want to go back
To where you don't have to spell phenolphthalein
You don't want to grasp the concept of arithmetic series

So go back
Turn around and run,
Run as fast as you can.
Chase your dreams,
But remember;
You can run for as long as you want,
But you have to face reality eventually.
You're only a diligent insomniac.
Sarah MacCoy Dec 2013
How can you expect me to continue on like this?
If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s the way you act so nonchalant
Did it ever occur to you that I actually care?
That maybe you should have been honest from the beginning.
I can remember when you once said you cared.
You promised you wouldn’t hurt me.
I hate to criticize anyone, but you’re a hypocrite.
I have to remind myself, that it’s just a game.

You won’t believe this, but it still hurts.
Your words stung like the tears on my face.
A funny thing happened, you taught me to not trust.
There will be a short assignment over the weekend, find a heart.
It’s nothing serious, but it’ll do you some good.
I’m a stranger here myself, but when I look at you I find myself.
I have to remind myself, that it’s just a game.


I hate the way you gloat.
If you do that one more time, I’ll tell them your secret.
You get all smug,
like “haha, you fell for my tricks.”
I really shouldn’t tell this to anyone, but I still care.
You’re just a player, and I was just your hand of cards.
I have to remind myself, that it’s just a game.
This was a creative writing assignment. We were given the beginnings of each line and we had to finish them.
Sarah MacCoy Dec 2013
I begin to ponder,
What humans have turned mother nature into.
Greed, greed, greed.

Humans complain about invasive species.
Yet we pay no mind that we, as humans, are the invasive species.
Greed, greed, greed.

We take things for granted,
Ruin the place we call home
But why?
Greed, greed, greed.
Sarah MacCoy Dec 2013
I'm drunk
On the misconception
That you love me

— The End —