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High school.
You try to fit in.
You make yourself a fool.
You try to make friends.
But it get hard.
What if they don't like me.
What if they pull the "loser"card..
I'm scared and worried.
What if they don't like me.
What if i'm just alone.
Where do i find the key,
The key to make friends,
To make friends,
To make everything.
Freshman year.
Your scared,
You don't know what to do.
Everyone is all big and different.
You hate it.
Sophomore year.
You are getting used to things.
You know the way things be.
You made friends.
You want to fit in with the crowd.
You are getting a little exhausted.
Junior year.
You're used to the way of high school.
You are always exhausted.
Done with school.
You start to worry about your future.
Senior year.
It's your last year.
You're happy it about over,
But also sad.
You wish you did more.
Made more memories because it's about over.
You worry about college and your future.
You are growing up.
You're leaving the place that has been a second home for the past 4 years.
You wish it wasn't over so soon.
Graduation day comes.
You have a tear in your eye.
Finally saying goodbye to this place,
That you loved,
That you never thought you would leave.
You don't wanna face the fact you have to leave and grow up.
High school.
You might hate it now,
But you will miss it when it ends.
Make memories,
Don't listen to others.
Have fun because you only take high school once.
High School.
Hope you guys read this and actually felt something
So when, again
Are you gonna get out of my head
Leave my daydreams
And take me by the hand
Lead me out
Onto the floor
At this ****** high school dance
Fortnite dance
Because you know
It ****** me off
Until we get kicked out
For being too loud

That's okay
We'll just head back to your place
Watch some awful
Horror movies
While your hand
Sneaks up my leg
I'll probably kick you
And pin you down
But that's how you like it
Isn't that right
Bite my neck
Until I beg you to stop
Tickle my sides
To break the silence
And wait a while
For me to fall asleep
Just so you can wake me up
And remind me
That it was just a dream
Oh god. I'm pretty whipped. I'm pretty ******* whipped.
zb Sep 22
it's been twenty-five years since i've seen you last
it's been twenty-five years since i set foot in these halls last
since i've heard your voice echo down these staircases and in my very bones
we're forty-three years old
a far cry from the eighteen year olds we'd been
before everyone had left and
before i'd held your hand for the last time

you're there with someone else
someone probably better for you in every way i wasn't,
couldn't ever be;
you've gotten a hair cut, i notice; it looks good
you look good in that shirt, under those lights
you look good
you've always looked good, to me

i'm standing in the corner.
where else would i be?
surely not in the fringes of the middle, by your side.
the lights are too dim to see you clearly
but i still remember your smile
the lights are too bright
to consider daring to approach;
i've spent years content in your orbit
i can do it for a night more

i'm glad i get to see you again
i don't know if i will, ever, after this
you live half-way across the country
you don't live alone
you don't think of me
not like how i think of you.
twenty-five years, and i'd never
forgotten the warm press of your hand on my arm,
the brush of it on my neck
i'd never stopped longing for you
but our paths diverged too early, and
we were too young, and
i had only ever been the one pining.

i can't get any closer, anyways,
you'd notice me
you'd remember me
you'd smile at me
you'd hold your hand out,
and of course i'd take it.
but there'd be no familiarity, no comfort,
not like how i want it;
there couldn't be.
she's right there, and
you never thought of it like how i did,

i wish we were eighteen forever
i wish we could spend an eternity
as seniors goofing off in the library
as juniors at opposite ends of the school dance
as sophomores in the hallways after school
as freshmen hiding in math class during lunch.
i wish i could hold to that simplicity forever
no pressure
no isolation
just you and me, friends,
comfortable with each other
comfortable in each others' spaces.
who cares what kinds of feelings i harbor?
who cares what you think of me?
i had the freedom to press my hand
against yours, and you
had the freedom to put your arm
on me as i slept,
and that's the only thing that
ever mattered,
could matter,
would matter.

i wish i could stay here forever
i wish twenty-five years from now never happens
i wish i could stop time;

i wish you were mine.
gabby Sep 20
Let's dance on the school hallway.
Tango, everything you want
as long as i can hold your hand.
Melting in your weak arms
i am staring at your eyes
so raw, misterious and hopeless.

One step back, two forward.
We fill this boring hallway
with buds of our young love.

The ring bells annoyingly
and the piano fades away.
Just smile (you are charming)
because I know we are helpless
when the dance ends.

We have spread our love
with every shy step
and trust me, those buds
raised up from the cold floor
of the scholl hallway
will suddenly bloom every time
i put my hands around your neck.
I am literally in love with this kind of love where everthing is so fresh and innocent.
Ava Courtney Sep 10
I miss the person I was in elementary school: the innocent, untampered little girl that I was.
The girl I was before the world snatched me from my innocence and poisoned my mind.  
I yearn for the girl who only cried because she skinned her knee or her tummy hurt.

I regret the person I was in middle school, not for who she was but for the person she was becoming, I bitterly regret allowing the world get to her, for it changed her; it altered her in tremendous ways.
She became dismantled, unrecognizable to the girl she was just a few years ago. She fell into the world’s hands, and the world destroyed her, it took her and impaled her with negativity and poison.
For that was just the beginning of the girl, she would become in high school.

You see that's the tragedy of growing up; you lose the things in life that truly made you happy, things you didn't have to compromise your happiness for.
When you grow up your trade the simplistic and the care-free life for a more brutal and agonizing one.
Waking up and having your whole body hurt, and your eyes red and puffy from crying all night, but once you walk into those glass doors it suddenly disappears -- almost like it never existed almost like you never felt those things at all.
But that's just the thing: it was all real and you still indeed feel that way, but you simply cover all that pain and all that emotion with a mask.
Because you know it is harder to show how you really feel than covering it.
And that mask keeps toying with your emotions and so then you are stuck between missing who you used to be and hating who you are now.
Saige Aug 23
She sits in class,
Her hair full of dry shampoo,
The dark circles under her eyes
seeping through her concealer.
Every class goes by slower than the one before
and its getting harder to pay attention.
She didn't sleep last night
but at least her math homework is done.
She doesn't remember the last time she ate,
But by now she doesn't really feel it.
Her phone sits full of unread texts,
invitations to things she wished she had time for.
But she doesn't have time for anything anymore.
Sleeping was supposed to be her escape,
but by the time 2am rolls around
she's still wide awake.
Leigh Aug 20
they say be original
to be you
to not change or stray from the light within
but god that is **** hard
like I want to be a great person
one that I like
but what dose "be me" even mean
I get that we are all born original
and we don't want to die being a copy
but what if I want to copy the great people out there
be kind
be smart
how would I learn if I didn't copy little things every day
from the hair styles to the single smile  
I want to be like a collage
some one who builds myself
take something out of everything
maybe we need to stop trying to be original and impress
start trying to look at others and
admire the great things that already exist
this is just something I'm thinking about going into high school and every one keeps telling me its fine if I'm just myself but myself is a slacker with manic depression so I'm thinking about it in a different way
littlebrush Aug 15
Do you think of me?

When you watch all those cliches,
—that you like a lot, by the way,—

Trinkets, Duff, “To All the Boys I Loved Before,”
when you watch that girl,

Do you think of us?
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