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Flame  Oct 2018
Untitled
Flame Oct 2018
When I'm bored
I like to go on pretty girls' profiles
And imagine what it must be like to be them

To post a picture
And get that many likes
To have their perfect hair
Perfect bodies
Perfect smiles
To be beautiful

Sometimes I feel pretty
But no one ever tells me I am

So I go to their profiles
To remind myself
Of what society can say
But refuses to say to me

And I conclude
That it must be
Because I'm
****
Alaina Moore Aug 2018
I'm starting to think it's me.
Maybe I ask to much,
though, admittedly,
maybe's it's because
I don't know what I am asking for?
I am starting to think, it's me.
Maybe I am the problem.
Or maybe that's just the voice in my head,
like a vice,
crushing any minor thing,
like an atom,
until it splits with the force of a thousand suns.
Or maybe it's everything else,
me included.
Maybe I just say it's me,
because I am my biggest bully,
and easiest target.
I thought I was asking for simple things,
but nothing seems simple anymore.
I just want these ropes untied from my hands.
Trapped in my own mind like a hostage,
who doesn't care if they make it out.
There is no greener grass on the other side,
I just wish this grass wasn't wet.
Sticking to me like feathers and tar.
I'm starting to think that I am just coasting along,
waiting for someone to help me fix my boat for me, before it sinks.
Amanda  Nov 2018
My Jail
Amanda Nov 2018
Wish I could do something right
So words would ring true
Wish I met high expectations
Maybe then I could lose a few

I wish I was not weighted with
Weakness well within my core
If only I was put together differently
Strength would emit from every pore

I create my shortcomings
How am I sabotaging my own goal?
Not trying in the first place
Allowing fear to take control

My heart bleeds in anticipation
Before cuts have a chance to appear
Live my life in apprehension
Assuming danger to always be near

My motionless state of insecurity
Realm of dysfunctional doubt
I forever am encapsulated in time
My skull is a jail and I cannot get out
Not so proud of this one but eh.. here it is anyway

Written 8/25/18
micaela drew  Aug 2018
Nothing.
micaela drew Aug 2018
It’s crazy to realize

No one cares about you

You’re not important

This fact has proven true

You’re not special or different

Friendships formed are simply convenient

They hold no significants or mean anything

Funny. Since we think they mean everything

No one cares about you

Especially your peers

If only you knew

It’d spare you lots of tears

People only care about themselves

as sad as it is to say

You mean nothing.

And neither do they.

-md
B Dec 2014
Oh dear, I'm a little lost again
Which ways home?
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