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Ready for a new life
A whole school
Of three hundred smiles
Hopefully, the autumn breeze
Will take me where
I need to be
My blacked out eyes
Will yours meet mine
On the very first day
Or will the current
Rip me away

I want to be grounded
I need to be strong
But something's eating
Up my insides
Telling me I've been gone
For far too long
I can't make up
For the wasted days
Rotting away
Behind reinforced glass
Wishing that today
Might be my last
Three weeks left. Oh boy. I hope things go better this time.
Mallory Michaud Dec 2018
You know,
It’s just me but I guess I just find it
That people say it’s girls who have loose lips
When the boys at this table have mouths
Like open caves
With stalagmite teeth
Bats come flying out

I guess,
It’s just my magic trick,
The way I become invisible
When the boys
Sit down for dinner
And they open up their backpacks
And their gym bags
And pull out butcher knives
That shine like brand new quarters
In the cafeteria fluorescents

I’m not sure,
But maybe
The churning of my stomach
Is a sign
That there’s sharks
In these waters
I feel my wet socks in my wet shoes as I jiggle my knee
And watch the boys
With their knives
Start chopping up girls on the plastic top table

They cut slices off of Julia
and Megan
And Kara
and lob them across the table
to their friends
Just Like the men at
Pike Place Fish Market
Fling whole salmon
Into each other’s gloved hands
I saw them do it
When I went to Seattle once.
I feel water climbing up my legs.
I see a shark fin.

Did I blush red?
When the boy next to me catches
Katie’s legs
In his calloused hands
And laughs a laugh that sounds like
An out of tune violin
They’re all laughing now,
Like car horns and fire alarms
Laughing about
Katie’s legs
And Kara’s ***
And Megan’s hips
And Julia’s ****
It’s the ugliest orchestra I’ve ever heard

And perhaps,
I’m the only one who’s noticed,
But we’re not in the cafeteria anymore
We’re right there
In that room
In that bed
In that moment
And I don’t want to be there.

And I know,
For sure,
No maybes,
That If JuliaMeganKaraKatie knew
We were all here too
In her room
In her bed
In her
That she’d cry enough saltwater
To flood the whole earth
And wash it clean.

We leave the table
Bones on the floor
Shark boys clean their teeth with toothpicks
My clothes are soaked
All the way up to my neck.

-I never go in the ocean, I’ve seen the sharks when they frenzy.
Isaac Oct 2018
It may seem like you are lonely,
but you aren't.
Written 19 October 2018
Elizabeth Zenk Jul 2018
Why should I even get up?
I know I'm meaningless.
I know life is a pointless endeavor.
I know I'm unlikable, unloveable, and pathetic.
So why do I get out of bed?
There is no reason.
I should just stay right here and never leave.
Left with the only person who can hurt me now.
But even I don't want to stay here completely.
I'm still telling myself,

"elizabeth, you need to get up."
Brenda Mukisa Mar 2018
I never loved you

You held my hand, called me baby
almost made me feel and do things
but I never loved you

I never said I loved you too
despite you saying it over and over
you gave me a home, presents.... you.
it didn't make me love you.

But you were mean, didn't fear God, or trust me
cared less for what I wanted or preferred.
so I couldn't love you.

Yet, I feel mean, for not loving you.
flowerheart May 2017
It’s April, and I
have everyone fooled,

that my passion is gone,
the fire has cooled

that my eyes don’t expand,
when see you around

that my thoughts stay intact
when you’re there.

that my mouth says its words
not for you anymore,

and my heart as gone back
to its beat from before.

that I’m angry at you,
but i don’t know for what

that I’m more independent,
and happier,

the new “him” in my poems
doesn’t shatter my ground

I’ve forgotten the meaning
of how to astound-

of how to surprise,
or be fearful of loss

of the things that are mine
and the things that you toss

but everything's fine
and you’re nothing divine

and it’s april,
and I am a fool
even though now it's may
I ******* miss you.
There. I said it.
I hope you're happy to know,
if you came back,
I'd pick things right up where you left it.
mw Sep 2015
sunsets on mountains and poetic weekends.
“if you write about me, i will blush when you read it.”
playing my guitar.
playing with my hair.
playing with me.
“do you want to get something to eat?”
“are you tired?”
“let me in."
holding me down, in the best possible way.
approved by my mom.
poetic texts and the reason i’ve been clutching my phone.
too good to me.

what you appear to be, you are so much more.
what i expected.
sure about where this is going, neither am i.
a manic decision, although you may seem like it now.
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