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ollie 6d
I wanted to write a poem
About a boy named melancholy
Problem is I ran out of words to describe him
The thing about being melancholy is that there’s no reason to it
And the boy named melancholy is devoid entirely of melanin
At least, in his skin
Hair and eyes, that’s a different story
His skin is snow white and his hair is often mistaken for black
But the stepmother in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs scared him so that he couldn’t watch the movie
Dwarfs, though, in the title, he always knew had been spelt wrong
And the thing about a boy named melancholy is there’s not enough to say and too much to say
Allowing the combination to be something much too complicated for a human brain
The human brain in question, of course, is entirely a trick of our entity
I am a boy named melancholy
Without necessarily wanting to be
And I’m scared
Because I’m so tired of pretending that I’m going to be a boy forever
I’m so tired of pretending that I’m a kid
I will never be a kid again
I’m still never sure if I even want to live to seventeen
Because honestly what’s the point in going on if you’re still going to tell yourself you’re not nearly as fantastic as people are claiming
I’m bringing guns to knife fights and I’m still always the loser cause I forgot that the way mental illness works, all these duels are with your own head
I hate being sick
I hate having to fight with myself all the time
I just want to be a normal kid
I want to go home
And sometimes I feel like that’s too much to ask
I’m fourteen
Begging to be fourteen
And begging to be able to commit a couple crimes and get away with it
To have my first kiss and have my heart broken
Anything is better than this
I just want to be fourteen
Let me be fourteen
‘Cause let’s face it, I never had the chance to be thirteen
Or twelve
Eleven or ten
I just had to suffer
Trees start to undress as showers of rain fall cleanse them
Winds blow dry their hair before starting another day
zebra Oct 11
its a road trip

she did the chicken head dance
hips swayed
like an evangelist of the lascivious
slicky, sticky, dicky
happily sicky
******* swallow
flooding her gullet
with spits, spats and waterfalls
for 300 gooey miles
like a Deer at a salt lick
to horney to send picture post cards

and her mouth sparkled
a regurgitating anthem of love
and a billion solar immolations
in the great
howling milky way roadtrip
*** adult
zebra Oct 14
she moving moveless
with big pleading eyes
like fruit orbs
fetched in molasses
full of grace
she stretched out her long neck
like a Modigliani
and ravished him
with cautionless lips
and fluted throat
like a scorched desert
deranged for monsoons cloudburst
*** adult
Tick Tock

It's time to wake up.
It's time to burn
It's time to use the kaleidoscope of life.
It is time to flow and create weapons to spread love.
It's time to close the bibles and not talk about idols.
It's time to stop begging for mercy.
It's time to let the girls dream.
It's time to stop regretting lost things.
It's time to use time.
It's time to let the sun burn my skin.

Tick Tock

It's time to wake up
Today we will not go home.
Today we are going to be happy girls in white dresses.
We do not want to look pretty today.
Today we are going to be ***** for our skin to breathe.
Today we go to the land where everything is good, where we can scream.
Today we go to a place where people do not talk about the things we do for fun.
Today I want to stop hearing people complain.
Today I want to count the coins that we do not know for what.
Today I do not want to hear people flaunt.
Today we're shaving our heads.
Today we're going to let people blow.
Today we will dream while the moon controls our dreams.
Today we just want to appreciate how the sea is blue.
Lewis Irwin Aug 20
She had eyes like a crater,
Innocent as any girl could be.
I think she had some bruises when I met her,
But it never seemed to deter me.

I chased her like a dog chasing tails,
Was only then I started to notice her ***** nails.
And then those Yellow eyes,
Blue and Yellow never look pretty to my mind.

She belled me with croaky breathes of air,
I rushed to her house shook and scared.
She was slumped against a wall with the choker she used to wear,
Strapped around her arm and specks of ***** in her hair.

She's got track marks like a craters,
Darkness lay dormant in her soul.
A once natural and elegant Beau,
Now alone in the world of ****** and Blow.
A coconut grove,
With one tall wind turbine;
Every wind blows amused!
your love is toxic

my lungs collapsing

beneath the weight of such **** feelings

so much like a rock

abrasive and heavy

are the words that spill from your mouth

like a faucet of filth

the pressure building

bright red blossoms

like a blow to the face
when presidents blow a gasket
the world goes to **** in a basket
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