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You always ask me
what I'm thinking of
and I must admit
if you knew my
true thoughts
you will never see
me the same again.

Constantly I am
thinking about
how I could
possibly feel
beautiful at night
when I eat anything
during the day.

I can't tell you this
because you might
worry for me.
You would say
I am beautiful always.

While this helps
it feels as though
you are putting
a band-aid on
a cavernous wound.
One that was small
many years ago,
but recently was infected,
left untreated and
ignored because of
how ugly it is to me.
I am embarrassed
that I love you more
then I love myself.

So I won't reveal
what I'm truly thinking
to you ever.
Instead I smile,
blush even,
and say I cannot
stop thinking of you.
Isabella Aug 1
Yes, I’m done talking.
Oh, no, one more thing—
Nevermind, you’re not listening.
Zack Ripley Aug 2019
You hate the gray in your hair.
I hate my weight.
You hate your freckles.
I hate my dimples.
We both hate when we get pimples.
You don't understand why people love your nose.
But that's the way it goes.
These things embarrass us.
But honestly, they're the best parts.
Because we find proof that we're human in the reflection
given off by these things we call imperfections
His head between my thighs while his fingers caressed my womanhood
He picks up the pace, I arch my back
My breath gets heavier
Even now I can still hear him ask
“Are you faking it?”
I reply “no I’m not” all while my voice hitches
He says “you better not” his head still between my legs as his fingers still dance on my womanhood picking up pace
The feeling is overwhelming I can’t take it I try to close my legs but he keeps them open head still between my legs.....
I become nervous, embarrassed I’ve never let myself go and feel good like this before
I grab his hand to stop him and push him away he begins to think that he did something wrong when in fact it wasn’t him at all it was me
It was me who most likely ruined the relationship we had
All I can hear is him in my mind asking if I’m faking my pleasure
Him saying I better not be
And then me just enjoying the pleasure I felt with him I just wish I could’ve been more opened and comfortable with him
I’m sorry I pushed you away S.
MicMag Aug 2019
Clock says 3:34, Friday afternoon
Waiting for the bell, but it rings too soon
My throat's too parched, butterflies in my stomach
I walk out of class, then I take off running
I hear my voice squeaking, I'm sweating bullets
My heartbeat's racing, I tell myself to cool it
Gotta get myself ready, I'm a nervous wreck
As I put myself out there, stick out my neck
I stroll to her locker, think I'm smooth as butter
Catch her bright gaze, involuntarily I shudder
Never done this before, ****'s scared outta me
So I open my mouth
What's it gonna be?
I squeak out the words
"Will you go out with me?"

No response as she turns back to the metal door
Spins the combination, flicks it back once more
The green rectangle swings open toward me
Now I start to wonder, do I have to repeat?
I quickly say her name, catch her nod from behind
I stare dumbfounded, wish I had a better line
Door slams shut, which way's this gonna go?
She spins then replies...
"Maybe. I don't know."

...Uh, wait, huh? What's that supposed to mean?
I just stare in shock, I feel like I'm turning green
I prepared for the yes, I prepared for the no
But after that answer what the hell do I know?
With a flippant little shrug she brushes right past
Says "I'll catch ya later", disappears into the mass
I'm standing alone, fingers nervously tapping
With a singular thought - What the hell just happened?
I didn't get the yes that I hoped for and expected
And she didn't say no, but I feel pretty **** dejected
Did I get rejected? Well, my ego got bruised
I'm bewildered and perplexed, downright confused
I'm frozen, mystified, as my buddies breeze by
One stops on a dime, spins and looks me in the eye
His expectant look asks a silent yes or no
I just give a little shrug...
"Maybe. I don't know."

They pester me with questions on our long walk home
But I'm totally distracted and I let my mind roam
What does Monday hold in store, will I get an answer?
I feel the panic rising so I join the friendly banter
The weekend creeps by, I'm consumed by my thoughts
Exhausted by the wondering, stomach still in knots
Early Monday morning, confidently stroll to school
But before I reach the door I feel like a **** fool
My eyes scan the grounds and I see where she stands
I spot her...
Another guy...
And their interlocked hands

My jaw drops a foot and I suddenly feel sick
Is she ruthlessly cruel or this a mean trick?
Internally I'm fuming nonstop all day
Externally I'm sweating and the world fades away
It feels like each class is progressively hotter
I ask my last teacher to leave to get some water
The class hears her reply and loses all control
Through the laughter comes her answer...

"Maybe. I don't know."
A (mostly-true) ode to pre-teen relationship angst.
Set to the rhythm of the mid-90s pop-rap of my youth
Axel May 2019
big and wide the size of my heart is but you'd rather just to sit and hide between the trees rather than to come and search for me.
I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE HELL I JUST WROTE HAHAHWHWHW AND IM GOING MF CRAZY N I DONT EVEN KNOW WHY AHAHAHHAH
Astral May 2019
Hidden under countless sheets,
Behind lock and key,
Like I'm scared they'll see.

I really do love poetry,
The way it feels to write,
To feel.

But I find myself embarrassed,
When in conversation,
A poetic stream slips out, free across the screen.

I don't know why I fear it so,
Or hope that it would go,
But I wish I didn't feel like this.

It's true that it's poetry I miss.
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