Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 May 2015 stargirl
Andrew Durst
Your eyes
are dark and
dull...

I could've
sworn they
were bright blue
when we
first
met.
Time has this ability.
it was michael's sixth birthday and he had on a suit
and a spiderman tie, his mom had gushed
over how handsome he was, but he didn't feel handsome
he felt so much pressure with the suit on and
he didn't like it at all
//
today michael was 13 and he stared at himself
in the mirror, questioning his reflection
he had stolen his older sister's skirt because he thought
she looked pretty in it, and he wanted to look pretty
too, and he does; he thinks he looks beautiful
the wonderful moment in ruined however by the
squeak of the door and the utter shock on his mother's face
//
michael's sixteen and biting his lip he had never felt more pretty
in his entire life, he had bought a dress with the excuse it was
for his "girlfriend" and he has tried it on and it fit like
a glove and michael cried suddenly because
he knew that this was the last time he would ever wear a dress
and feel special
//
at michael's funeral he is dressed in a black and white suit
with a blue tie, and all anyone could think
was what a shame, of course if michael were alive
he'd be thinking that he would probably look prettier
with a skirt on, and if only people would've accepted that
then he probably would've been there to say it

(h.l.)
based on a story...really bad probably going to rewrite
 Apr 2015 stargirl
NV
bags.
 Apr 2015 stargirl
NV
BUT BABY,

I'M AFRAID TO TELL YOU WHAT'S IN

THE BAGS UNDER MY EYES.

AND YOU SO CURIOUS.

YOU SO CURIOUS BECAUSE YOU CAN

SEE THE HEAVINESS.
and you can shop the store for sorrow and despair.
loneliness is found on the shelf in the fitting room.
if you cry, you pay.
 Apr 2015 stargirl
em
She.
 Apr 2015 stargirl
em
she’s the girl who will remember everything. from your birthday, to the story behind that scar on your left arm, to the number of freckles on your body.

she will love every inch of your body and your soul and even the heart you didn’t know you had.

she will take in everything you have to offer and give you back so much more. so much, that you won’t even know what to do with it.

she will open up the world for you. from books and music and film to things like culture and race and language.

she’s smarter and far more beautiful than she dares herself to show.

and you will love her.

you will love her like you’ve never loved anybody before.

she will level every winter your body has suffered with all the springs her bones have weathered.

and when you go, because you can no longer handle her, she will drown herself in alcohol and drugs and sorrow. and wonder why she wasn’t good enough.

she will refuse to be saved by any other hand because nobody can touch her quite like you.

she will **** herself with loneliness and then resurrect with her own scent.
and then she will do it again.

and again.

and again.

and again.

she will be weak and strong and bold and shy and mean and nice and everything in between.

she will grow. she will grow strong and tall.

and so will you.

and in ten years from now, when you run into her at the supermarket, she will ask about your marriage.

and while you’re there telling her about your wife, who is home with the kids, and your job, she will feel genuinely happy for you.

because she forgave you. she forgave you for walking away and she forgave herself for ever thinking she wasn’t good enough.

she will have realized by then that sometimes life will give you somebody just to watch you break when it takes them away from you.

and she will be okay with it.

and so will you.

but, she will walk away without telling you about her life because she doesn’t want you to hear it in her voice that she still remembers your birthday, and that birthmark on your right shoulder.

and that ten years ago, she had hoped you would run into somebody else and told them all about her being at home with the kids.
 Apr 2015 stargirl
yasmine
torture
 Apr 2015 stargirl
yasmine
tomorrow makes a year that you said you were done with me
but ironically i dreamt of you last night
my head is spinning.
you asked me the other day what depression felt like
and i told you that it was like drowning but
you could see everyone else around you breathing;
you stared at me then, pity in you eyes
but also wonder almost as if you were seeing
an artifact in a museum, you looked at me
that way because i had not told you the rest
i didn't tell you how close i came every night to
giving in to the voices in my head or how
whenever i was scared i would run a knife along my arm;
not to cut myself with it but to feel the cool against my skin
i did not tell you that my life became a movie flashing
before my eyes that night i accidentally drowned and
how it took six months of Death knocking at my door
for me to stop and to realize that this was a problem
i didn't tell you any of that because then i knew your eyes would
widen when you realized that the same sweater paws
you would tease me about were there for a reason and then
you would look at me, with understanding in your eyes and
sadness too because then you would realize
that i wasn't an artifact in a museum or a war veteran
i was just a girl with large sweater paws and a tight lipped smile

so maybe it is better for you to believe that i am an artifact
because maybe then i could still wear sweater paws
without you questioning me too much

(h.l.)
"what's depression like?"
"it's like drowning except everyone around you is breathing,"
^random story that i can't remember oops
you
i
have
not
formed
a
coherent
thought
since
i
met
you
who needs coherent thoughts though amirite
 Apr 2015 stargirl
Joshua Haines
It was four o'clock in the morning. Robert wondered why his name was Robert. He decided to get rid of the "Bert" because it was the name of a Sesame Street character or the name of a ******* in Tempe, Arizona. Then again, he thought, "Hey, just Rob makes me sound like I change tires for a living or that I work out at a gym that discriminates fat people and blacks." Rob or Robert took a second to evaluate his last thought and if thinking "and blacks" made him a racist person.

Robert sat on a bench and wondered if the woman beside him was expecting Forest Gump-esque wisdom.

Robert thought of a friend he had in grade eight, named Alexander. He thought of how Alexander had a glass eye. Robert wondered how Alexander had a glass eye but could not remember or did not know why Alexander had a glass eye. Robert, then, concluded that sometimes he will not know something and how that is okay because most people don't know anything--it's a collection of approximates that stay in our heads, he thought. Robert asked himself if his last thought made him intelligent or dumb and pretentious. Robert decided that he did not know. How meta, he thought. Robert, then, decided to stop using the word "meta" so much, because it made him feel like a professor with bitterness and something to prove.

Robert watched his sister struggle with an eating disorder. She was in a hospital bed, with an IV in her arm. Robert did not know if he would struggle with anything as hard as his sister struggled with anorexia. Robert, then, had intense but fleeting anger at every person that bragged about being anorexic or made it seem cool.

Robert sat on his toilet and wondered what his true identity was and what his true nature was. He wondered what was inherent and what was synthetic. Robert, then, wondered if a synthetic personality was inherent. Robert asked himself if he was a good person. He wasn't sure if sitting on the toilet, in his grandmother's house, and ******* to interracial ebony teen ****, on his iPhone, made him a good person or not. His concerns soon past, though, as soon as Lauren started to **** the pizza guy's white ****.

Robert walked down the street and was contemplating some of the issues that plagued his ****-infested mind, while he was on the toilet. Robert saw a girl running from a guy. Robert asked himself if he was a hero or inherently good. Robert, then, concluded that he was inherently a coward, since he did nothing and hoped that somebody else would save her.

Robert didn't meet a girl and knew that no one would write prose about his meeting a girl and their mutual love for one another. Robert was eating a steak sub, while thinking this.

Robert returned to the hospital, to pick up his sister. On the way home, his sister talked about how attractive her nurse was. Robert asked, "What did he look like?" His sister, then, said, "It wasn't a he. My nurse was a girl." Robert was okay with his sister being attracted to girls, but hoped that she didn't get more than him or more attractive girls than him, because, for some reason, that would make him feel insecure. Robert decided to stop eating so many steak subs and to work out. Robert asked his sister if she wanted to get steak subs. She said, "sure".

Robert was working out in his basement. He heard the sound of retching, upstairs. Robert followed the sound of the vomiting and opened a bathroom door. He saw his sister stick her finger down her throat. He said to his sister, "That isn't anorexia." His sister said, "I know. There's a lot you don't know about me." Robert said, "I'm sorry."
there are sounds, i can hear that much if i pay attention
but that's all i can hear anymore besides your
voice in my head and you breathing is still ****** into my
memory
sometimes, when it gets really cold i can still feel your
warm embrace around me and your heartbeat echoes in my
mind like a tune that never stops playing and
i don't know whose fault it was anymore at
this point all i know is that i miss you
i miss you
and not in the way i thought i would,
i do not miss you with heart-wrenching sobs and
an inability to breathe
i miss you with careless sighs and haunting photo albums
and an inability to live because you had
become such a permanent part of my life that
i didn't even notice you anymore you were like
a fresh inked tattoo that grows old and doesn't fade
until one day you wake up and you
realize it was all temporary
tattoos start to itch and they become a menace,
maybe i was a menace and yet somehow
i can't bring myself to have enough pride to
guard myself up again, i still slip everyday when you say hi
i say hi back and i promised myself that i wouldn't
respond the next time you called but i know
that in the end i will because i can't help it
*i miss you
*hello there,
the angel from my nightmare
the shadow in the background of the morgue,
the unsuspecting victim of darkness in the valley
we can live like jack and sally if we want
you can always find me,
we'll have halloween on christmas and in the night
we'll wish this never ends,
we'll wish this never ends
i miss you
miss you*
-blink 182 "i miss you"
Next page