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There is a boy at work with laughter that feels like October. Kind eyes hidden behind shy smiles and butterfly wings for eyelashes. He makes early mornings feel like Christmas, I can’t be sad when I’m around him. When he’s beside me I forget everything that has ever hurt me. But there’s a girl with blonde hair and green eyes, a girl that radiates positivity and beauty. We’re almost the same but she’s so much better. I didn’t know it was possible to be a knockoff of yourself before I met her. She holds his heart and it stings to know that I’ll never be the one to see him smile in moonlight or hear him sing in the shower. Autumn boy you make me feel alive again, but your beautiful girl makes you feel immortal and I could never compete.
Some days I think my mother wants to hate me more than she wants to love me. It feels like most days she finds more flaws than I knew were possible. My sister and I were the rough drafts before she perfected her work and gave birth to our brother. When I came out to her she asked why it took me so long to do it, how do you look at the person that’s supposed to love you unconditionally and say you didn’t want another nail in your coffin, another tally mark on the board of all of your **** ups. Every time I eat something I hear her voice at the back of my head telling me I should stop. I’ve never dined alone, my whole life my mothers voice has joined me when the slightest thought of food has crossed my mind. I have spent more days than I can count wishing I had the self control to starve myself. How do you say that out loud? How do you make the words slip off your tongue to anyone without them thinking you’re a lost cause. I think about dying like I think about skipping my next meal. It’s never set in stone, there’s no contract binding my thoughts to my actions but it’s always at the back of my head. A wailing ghost haunting my brain just waiting for the day that we actually go through with something when we first think of it.
I often joke about my mental health. Every time someone asks me if I’m okay I respond with something witty without thinking. My body’s natural instinct is to make a situation lighter to protect myself. If I laugh I can’t cry, if I laugh to the point of gasping for air then maybe my body will confuse it for a sob and my chest will stop feeling like it’s filling up with water instead of oxygen. I was never taught how to swim so on rough days when I start drowning I can’t do anything but flail. So far I’ve managed to keep my head above water but what happens when my legs and arms get tired? Who’s going to throw me a line and pull me out of the water? Most of the time I feel lonely on land but when I’m drowning I realize just how empty the ocean can be. When I was four my mother left my sister in charge of me. I walked into the pool without my water wings and almost drowned. A crowd of adults surrounded the water but it was my sister that jumped in to save me. It was in that moment that the world showed its true colours. An eight year old risked her life to save me and my mother barely made a fuss. That was the last time anyone ever saw me drowning. I no longer have my sister to jump in and save me. Over the years her sights have switched to someone new and life has caught me yet again unaccompanied. I don’t have any water wings to keep me afloat so I just keep thrashing and choking and praying to god someone will see me going under. But what if this time nobody ever does?
Emily Jo Sep 5
I only seem to write poetry
About love, heartbreak and pain
And no matter how many i write
The emotions stay swirling in my brain

I try to write about life and happiness
Of moving forward and contentment

But it seems
I can only
About love.
And pain.

Maybe when i love again,
I can flush the swirls out of my brain.
Until then please bear with me
With my sappy heart melodies
Coupled with gut wrenching pain.

Susana Sep 3
Rainy night
in the middle of warm August
shall make me calmer
Rainy night
tossing and turning
trying to find my place in your welcoming arms
Rainy night
dreaming of milky skies
and never ending sunsets
sometimes it's nice to get soaked
Susana Sep 3
It's gazing at the reflection of strawberry skies in an untouched lake
making you feel like the child you once used to be
thinking about what your mom is making for dinner
It's a warm summery breeze
hugging you like that blanket your grandma gave you for Christmas
while you slowly fell asleep
It's chasing a butterfly in your garden
feeling the wind in your hair , not worrying about anything but that **** insect
yet now
as we grow older
why must we be frightened of being tranquil?
Susana Sep 3
Slowed down
It seems
Yet somehow
Moments pass quickly by
Leaving nothing but
A small stain
In the brain
I think I fall in love with the idea of people more than I fall in love with the real them. I have no idea if the girl with auburn hair and pretty blue eyes paints under the stars but I can vividly see her doing it and a part of me falls in love with a version of her that likely doesn’t exist. My best friends brother is just a guy with a love for Studio Ghibli movies and a knack for making people laugh. This doesn’t stop me from imagining the long nights we’d spend on his couch discussing Morrisey. I don’t know how to differentiate heart from mind, poet from person. I often question if I’ll ever be able to love someone without painting them in a light they don’t belong in. Is this how it will always be? Questioning every feeling I have, analyzing whether I love someone for the person they really are or if I’ve written them into the poem I want them to be. How do I know that my feelings are genuine when I have a habit of turning every person I meet into a love poem?
carlos varela Aug 22
A cold wind dashes through me like a dart
Calling out a name, a name I dare not speak
Piercing through my skin and into my heart
I ask myself what does it beskeak
Its been a while since I written anything
Cosmic deities play us for a fool
Fate has her preculiar ways
Of twirling threads with nothing as tool
Twists, and joy or dread it brings 'til end of days

On the rainy days of September
As the witching number strikes
A present from the skies, I remember
And a feeling in my heart, unexpectedly hikes

Majestic, she was from another realm
With spires and chandeliers tall
And valiant loyal men guard the helm
As echoes rang harmoniously across the hall

But Love pulled me effortlessly
From the pyres of Friendship, I hold
Towards the inferno of Love I dipped carelessly
And alas, I was changed, I was told

Echoing screams of denial rang
As I clutch the doorway of abyss
The reality of our inevitable end hang
And I pray that the binding arrows will miss

Love is a sweet spring song, I was told
But lies, herecies, foolishness under the mask
It was useless to conquer and be bold
To expect colors in future and ask

The wise says 'Love conquers all'
But in truth, all conquers love
As I voiced my feelings and how I fall
All I received was a crow under the feathers of a dove
From a recent heartbreak I realized that realities of the world will always dominate the forces of love - that it will never be a force strong enough to bend the world
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