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raingirlpoet Dec 2014
the hardest thing i do as a disabled person
is not
"fight my disability"
we were never at war with one another
like me, it just wants to exist
and so i let it
to some extent
i’ll never “become my disability”
yet i don’t believe it’s a bad thing either
i’ve come to realise that he’s become a part of me
as he’s helped shape my thinking
and maybe even my personality a little bit
i owe all my stubbornness to him
nah
i don’t fight my disability
we’re bffs

the hardest thing i do as a disabled person
is not
"get up every day"
though for a while, i thought it was
getting up is easy
facing the world?
getting easier
i used to blush at the thought of getting a wheelchair
i’d bury my face in my knees and cover my ears with my hands, thinking that if i couldn’t see it or hear it, i wouldn’t need it
i cared too much of what society would see me as
not “normal teenage girl”
"sad confined possibly a teenage girl?"
normal is overrated
and to be honest?
so is society

the hardest thing i do as a disabled person
is not
pretending i’m okay with mainstreaming
dear teachers, “mainstreaming” was never in my vocabulary
pretending?
pfft dear teachers, this is 100% real contentment
IEPs got some getting used to but after 16 years of endless doctors appointments, people in white sterile coats, plastic latex gloves poking, prodding demanding things of me
"mainstreaming"
won’t ever exist in my vocabulary
i know i’m smart
and i know i can do it
so don’t you DARE cry at my graduation
it’d be pretty pathetic if i believed in myself more than you do

the hardest thing i do as a disabled person
is
accepting the realities
i don’t know when i’ll take my last step
i don’t know when my muscles will give out for good
i know that every day i won’t know what’s right in front of me
i know that i’ll never be able to run another mile in my life
and i know that i won’t ever stop dreaming about the things i wish i could do
would love to do
won’t ever do
might do

one day
Meera  Mar 2018
BFFs
Meera Mar 2018
When I was trembling
You held me
When I was falling
You supported me
When I was crying
You wiped my tears
When I was scared
You shared my fears
When I was low
You held me high
When I was lying
Flat on ground
You raised me up
To the level of sky
You stood for me
When no one else did
You cuddled me
As if I were a kid
When nights were dark
And the days were tough
To strengthen me
Your support was enough
But I forgot you
When the days were brighter
My selfishness made
Our friendship lighter
I feel so sorry
For letting you go
I am such a hog
Still forgive me though

You are the one with the bigger heart
Now please come back and hug me again
I have had my share of misery
And no more I can handle this pain

I beg your forgiveness
I cry in repentance
Please return my friend
And end my sentence
TSALOVERLOVER Jan 2015
you say you love the way I am
you say you love my uniqueness
but what you don't say
is what you tell other people

'she is such a '*****'
'I wish I never knew the fool'
'I wish I never transferred to this school
because I can't even stand her sight'
you know usually when someone tells
u something nice u say
'same to you'
the thing with this 'same to you'
is that I really wish that I
had never met you
I wish that you never transferred

**BUT the difference between us
is that I live in reality
people say what they want
although it hurts because I thought
you were my pal it doesn't affect me anymore
but on the other hand you spent an entire term
getting most of my new friends
thinking I'm a *****
its ok no biggy all this
is good -made me realize
that not every one is nice
I finally got up and smelled the coffee
thank God for 'BFFS'
this is a true story put short. life is HARD
but a mysterious journey:)
rm  Jun 2018
Dear BFFs
rm Jun 2018
Fight is light
A sight that’s bright
The reason why we didn’t even try
To freely fly from the jail of lie

Bad is good, good is bad, it’s true, though it can make you mad,
Make you feel down and sad
War is something that’s good yet bad
Sweetness and bitterness, good and bad, are all it had

War and peace, love and hate
Just, reason, critic and fate
It had just started but it seems like it has already begun
With that, our hearts were shoot by an air gun

Spring of love, flakes of blood
Frozen heart, warmth rushing through the flood
I can’t find the words to say goodbye
I tried, and that’s not a lie

Foresee what would happen
If you continue this thing till the end
And now it’s too late
For you to change your fate

I used to possess this strength
With no limitation of length
Waiting, expecting, loving, caring, and forgiving
I’ve done ages ago, but I swear not for a living

Those fruitful days with all of you
I’ve had doubts if some of it is false or true
But I’ve had enough
Patience was replaced by anger that you can’t stop

I’ll say it one more time
My heart was a candy and turned into a lime
Then it has rotten and turned bitter
It rained and our memories was just a litter

Everything was now a trash
My head exploded and my heart crashed
Was broken into pieces
By unfulfilled promises
Emma Liang Aug 2010
Take my hand, friend
just for a sec-
let's leave this ****** land of
SATs, PSATs, APs,
and college admission essays and guidance counselors
and homework and pop quizzes and exams and whatever else-

                                          behind.

Let's be two again.

Let's make Pringle-chip-duck faces
and grin with orange peel smiles-
I'll paint my nails yellow and we'll read Dr. Seuss with British accents
in the dimming light of the old
falling-down fort of pillows and blankets (that's almost too small for us)

Let's pretend
              Let's pretend
                            Let's pretend

That we've never seen the glowing screen of
televisions, computers, IPods,
that we haven't spent weeks wearing down our thumbs on text messages.
              Let's forget fights over boys that weren't even all that hot.

Let's sit in my yard and eat raw cookie dough behind my momma's back
And make too-sweet fresh lemonade, and blow dandelions
(into other neighbor's yards, of course)
Spray garden hoses at each other
and laugh and scream and giggle and make mud-pies.
Let's make twenty different secret handshakes,
Eat wild raspberries and hide sticky fingers
And pinky promise- again and again- BFFs forever.

Let's lose ourselves in the bliss of childhood
just one more time- please.

                            Just in case Peter Pan decides to visit.
Comments and suggestions and criticisms all appreciated; thanks for reading! (:
Anais Vionet May 2022
It’s a cool, Georgia, Wednesday afternoon - not quite 80°f. The sky is clear, and the sun is dazzling against the cadet blue sky. Its reflection is multiplied a thousand small times, creating glittering, broken mirror glares that ripple, relentlessly, across the water’s blue surface.

On the lake, if you’re not wearing polarized sunglasses, then you’re going to suffer - no worries though, we have drawers full of them. We’re on my parents' Tiara-43 ski boat, at anchor in the sheltered-cove of an uninhabited island. It’s windy, Leong and I, bikinied and fresh from the water, race shivering for our giant, Turkish-linen beach-towels.

Charles, a large, redheaded, retired, NYC cop, (who’s been my full-time driver and escort since I was 9), is our boat-captain (I am not allowed to dock the boat). Charles, a chef of steaks nonpareil, is working the grill and unconsciously swaying to the music. The aroma is mouthwatering, and my tummy is growling with anticipation.

Ashe’s “Another man’s jeans” is bumpin’ from the stereo, and I can’t help but feel this somehow beats going to class. As we wrap up and settle in our lounges, a green and white ski boat careens into view, about a quarter mile from the cove entrance.

The sight of it makes me smile. It’s going so fast that it seems to hover over the surface of the lake, only jerking slightly as the boat lightly touches-off the water. It zeros in on us like a missile, its approach flat out - perhaps 60mph (52 knots).

I knew who it was instantly - Kimmy - of course. I look at my watch - 3:30pm - she got out of school at 2:15 and must have made a hot bee-line for us using “find my friends” GPS telemetry to uncover our hidden cove location.

As the boat edges the cove lip, Kim cuts power - the boat heaves as it settles into the water and quickly decelerates. Charles, anticipating the approaching wake, secures things (spices and utensils) in the galley area. When the boat’s closer, I can see that Bili’s onboard too.

Kim and Bili are my two homie BFFs. They’ll graduate high school in 2 weeks. Kim is a small, pretty Asian American bound for Brown University, to study public policy in the fall. Bili is a tall, gorgeous, chocolate-brown Nubian princess who’ll attend the University of California, at Berkeley to study “financial engineering” - whatever that is.

When Kim’s boat is about 80 feet from us, Kim and Bili jump on deck, water-ready in bathing suits. Each girl, used to the boating-life, tosses an anchor - one to port, one starboard, and not bothering to look back, dive off the bow and begin swimming toward us.

Kim’s boat, which briefly seemed intent on catching them, jerks to a stop, like a wild thing suddenly restrained, as anchor lines catch.

When Kim and Bili draw along aside, they reach up with clasped hands which Charles uses, like a handle, to smoothly hoist them one-handed, as if they were weightless, in turn, from the water with long mastered ease - presenting them to me for squealing embrace.

As I excitedly introduce them to Leong - summer has officially begun.
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Nonpareil: "having no equal."
Lanox  Jun 2015
BFFs
Lanox Jun 2015
This poem is a veiled love letter.
Another shot at resisting the drifting away.
A refusal to accept the quickness of your brushing off my account of our could-have-beens.
I pretend that while you are still not mine, you are asleep, and so I let you.
You may awake too late or just in time.
I may find or look for distractions, or I may yield to impatience, which is the more probable.
But between here and then are going to be strings of tender words
To remind you,
at perhaps not evenly spaced intervals,
“that we'll always have each other. When everything else is gone” (Incubus).  

In a certain lifetime, we didn't get to meet.
We lived separate but nevertheless great lives.
But there was always a longing for something we just couldn't pinpoint,
like when you're listening to your favorite artist singing your favorite song,
and you look to your side, expecting someone to be there,
also entranced by the music,
but all you see is either an empty space or a stranger bobbing her head,
who, although as understanding, just isn't going to look at you
in that way you want to be seen.

We are extremely lucky that in this particular space-time combo,
we somehow got to learn of each other.
There are many failures I've eventually become grateful for because otherwise we would not have ended up in each other's stories.
And I'm very, very glad for the risks I took that somehow led to my roads crisscrossing with yours.

In another lifetime my heart is full and unbroken,
but unused and safe until time caught up with it.
Now here we are close enough that I can easily hand it to you.
I don't care if you keep it or destroy it, but ******* take it and do something with it
because it's yours either way.

On a day in our other life, we are screaming plenty,
maybe at each other, maybe only in our heads,
but even inside those angers, there is still a certain kind of comfort,
that we are entitled to madness for what the other has done to us,
that our rages are justified because no one else should be able to stir us so anyway.

But in another life, I am not reciting lines.
A house woman waiting to go back to writing.
Bound by the rules of contentment.
Every visit of melancholy met with guilt.
I wouldn’t have cats because I’m not good with routines,
so maybe I will find contentment in books,
while imagining the worlds I am reading,
also always dreaming of my own—
how in another life I am your favorite troubadour,
singing, “J’adore, monsieur, mon cher.”
How the lilting verses of all others are also heard by you indeed,
but not in the same way you listen to mine.
Because you know that my poems are also yours.

But in all of the possible lives we have, we know how there is vanity in our kind of affection.
You, for instance, are fascinated with the thought of how these lines would not have been if I were thinking of another.

They say whom we love affects who we become.
Have you liked what I have become?
I know I cannot ask the same of you.
A lot of people have changed you.
There is barely anything left of you from years ago,
when you were somehow fleetingly mine.
But there is.
And that's how I still recognize you.
Matthew  Feb 2019
BFFs
Matthew Feb 2019
We friends supposed to Be Friends Forever
But Forgot Forever
ended after death
I hate this poem
indelible ink Jan 2013
you are so annoying...

you are so complicated..

you bring drama to my life..

you laugh at me...

you laugh with me...

you know all bout my crushes...

you know all bout my life every single detail..

you make me smile...

you irritate me..

you are my "philosophic talker"

you my "******* taker"

you give all wrong advises..

you scream at me with CAPITAL LETTERS..!! :)

you make me smile with all the "awwww..."

you are with me day and night..!!

and wen u get upset with me nothings all right..!! :(

even if people call us "lesbians" I DON'T CARE..!!!

because i know we have our share of crushes...lovers and admirers...that v both only know of..!!! :)

you have seen me in my bad..u have seen me in my best..

you have seen me going "tomboy " to "girly" for a guy..!! :)

you criticize me...i abuse you...and that is what makes us Best Friends Forever..!!!

i know i have ******* you royally..!! i know i have irritated you no end..!! thank you for bearing it all...thank you for standing by me!! thank you for taking my ****..!! and lastly...thank you for STICKING AROUND AND LISTENING TO ME..!!!!!

LOVE YOU LOADS..!!!

P.S : We are not BFFs... WE ARE..

: Best Friend For Life Like Sisters And Always I Love You..!!!

— The End —