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Sometimes when people see her,
They see the good little girl,
That sits down,
That’s quite,
And does what she is told.

The girl that doesn’t want trouble,
That’ll snitch at the sound of danger.
The girl that does all of her work on time,
That fears anything below an A.

Sometimes when people see her,
They see the loud girl,
That doesn’t know when to keep her mouth shut,
Whether she’s talking to her friends,
Or when she’s firing off a sarcastic remark.

The girl that’ll throw words,
If you dare dis her family.
The girl that’ll catch hands,
If you dare push her.

They do not like this loud girl,
She should stay quite,
Know her place,
Fall in line.

But they do not like the good girl either,
She should open up,
Let loose for once,
Stand on her own two feet.

People seem to always decide,
What this girl should be.
Not the girl herself,
To show what she believes.

But it is like this with every girl.
They are all either:
Too tall,
Too short,
Too skinny,
Too fat.

These girls face constant battle,
On what they should,
And should not do.
But no one ever asks what the girls might think.

Instead the girls will live,
With these rules forced to swallow.

But soon the girls will rise,
And everyone will soon follow.
In society many girls are pressed in ideas by others on what and who they should be. People today do not like good little girls because they are considered prudes and ingnorant. However people do not like the loud girls because they're b-words and obnoxious. There are toxic images for boys too, not just girls. Overall I believe that there will be a day where the old sterotypical toxic images will come to an end, for both girls and boys.
The universe cry out for us to align
Like the stars in the sky.
But you are too busy being ordinary to hear this uncommon assignment.
I can no longer sleep soundly,
My heart is in pain because
Time is not on our side.
I miss the butterflies when I saw your face.
I miss when my heart sing and shout at the calling of your name.
Hopes and dream filled my fragile heart,
As I wish we had a spark.
Sorely our world did not collide.
God had another plan.
It hurts to see you leave
Knowing we will never have a spark.
She is reckless

She is clumsy

She is blissful

She’s my happy drunk

She’s my reckless ride

Hands tied

Eyes covered

We’re going down baby

Swaying frayed and freee

She’s my beautiful.
I notice his glimpse,

They’re intense and have value

There’s something hiding and lurking

At me behind those dark brown eyes.

It is as if his savoring all my beauty

And my presence for later.

My presence possesses him into

An infinite loop of love and awe.
His eyes were like Labrodite
Beautiful in their own way
Cracks full of color
The only thing holding darkness at bay

His eyes were like Beryllium
The brightest blue I'd ever seen
Like blue skies on the horizon of tomorrow
The day leading you away from me

His eyes are like Sodalite
They come from both the darkness and the light
They are a muddled beautiful blue
The are unique just like you
I have bad habit of comparing people's eye color to rocks.
els Jan 15
we sit in the fourth row of the movie theater
he plays with my hair and calls me pretty
i don’t know what we are but i know we are more
because friends don’t look at each other like that
i am not a secret he can keep behind his back
i am real and i’m alive and i am trying to care for him
even if i still do not know how to take care of myself
we sit behind the heater in the rain
he tells me he doesn’t regret it
he tells me he’d do it again any day
(i think we both know i'd do it again too.)
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