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helena alexis Sep 2017
once you graduate high school
you see people for who they
really are

people change and
sometimes not for the better

your best friend is now your
worst enemy
the person who intimidated you
is now one of your friends
the boy you had a crush on
is now irrelevant

some people enter high school
with tons of friends
and leave with a few friends

others enter high school
with a few friends
and leave with none at all

- my high school experience
my high school experience in a poem
cassie sky Sep 2017
It's picture day
I'm watching the freshmen scurry
To fluff their hair
And paint their lips
As the caffeinated college kids
Help to align their hips
With the X on the floor
That gets them out the door

The funniest part of this frame
Is how the teachers also scurry
In their self-obsessed shame
Asonna Aug 2017
It's been a while, but you're recognized
from when we went to school.
You and I have hooked up before,
nothing of ****** relations.
But when you popped up on my screen,
I'll admit there was hesitation.

You push and push then suddenly pull,
don't know if it's a game.
but against my better judgement,
I swiped right anyway.
there you instantly shot a message,
and picked up where we left off.

Before i know it I'm in a car,
the windows are all fogged up.
Hands to my *******, I'm in your lap,
your lips leeched to my neck.
mind screams "No, what are you doing?"
But my body says "Pleasure me."

If that night wasn't enough,
we met the very next day.
Went back to his and like before
He had his way with me.
Guilty conscience plays repeat,
to this day I probably shouldn't have done it.

He pushed for plans where I didn't have time,
It was either work or moving.
Eventually told me he was done playing around,
but i thought *** was all he wanted.
Told him I was moving 6 hours away
That I couldn't hold that type of connection.

I haven't heard from him
nor have I seen him since
But now that I'm 6 hours away
I've lost all form's of connection
In a new town, filled with new people
It was crazy, but I felt lonely.
Juju Aug 2017
I'm so irritated with high school,
Sundays are worse than weekdays.  
Great, I moved on from living in the past,
To living in the future.
So how do you pull back?

Guess that's the big next step.
But right now,
I'm irritated.
Dusk Aug 2017
What they don't tell you is
it's impossible to be comfortable with yourself when you're a teenager
you're growing and changing and the world
just keeps moving faster around you and
whenever you ask it to slow down it goes
faster

What they don't tell you is
it's okay to want to fix yourself
being broken isn't a pre-req for being cool
or creative
or cared for
those songs comparing you to hurricanes
won't always be right

What they don't tell you is
it's harder to survive some days than others
Even if you don't need pills
or a therapist
or rehab
living can get too hard no matter what
and it's okay to not be okay

What they don't tell you is
its more than just easy to wake up some days
Even if you need a shrink
or meds
or to go cold turkey
and you're never gonna stop yourself from counting seconds
but instead of a countdown clock
just make them matter
Ink Jul 2017
When the pressure builds on your shoulders
And you’re on the verge of breaking
Let me be your first call
To stop your voice from shaking

When the nights are achingly short
And the days seem to drag on
Know that I’ll listen to all of your worries
Until the crack of dawn

When you find your life is hostile
And the world is harsh and cold
Remember that you are fragile when alone
But together we can be bold

When these days are long passed
And our memories become foggy and strained
I hope you’ll remember your friend in high school
That cared for you when it rained

When we grow old and tired
And our days are filled with regret
We’ll look back at these high school years
And friends we hope we won’t forget

I’ll be glad I had thanked you then
For shielding me from the eternal storm
And wish that we'll meet in sunlight soon
Where we are not our thorns
For Noor. It's a continuation of the poem I wrote you before.

Sorry, it *****. I have writer's block.
Parker Jul 2017
We never learned to tell time because the clocks in our school were all broken.
There were kids desperate for a high, all in the bathroom smoking.
A football player grabbing a freshman's *** and telling her to chill....he was joking.
All the girls nowadays are into choking.
Our self worth based on all the time we never learned to tell that the guys spent talking about our *****.
The time spent cutting all of our classes
to go see the boy who thought we looked better without our glasses.
Time spent being humliated by him in front of the masses.
Beginning to lose ourself and thinking our self worth amounts to ****.
Thinking to ourself, "I must deserve to be hit."
Sweetie please remember, you're still just a kid
Nobody in high school feels like they fit
We're still learning to tell time on broken clocks
as misery and insecurity begins to knock
our set mentalities from society being a block
from the reality we live in that never ceases to shock

P.M. 7/18/17
When I began writing this it was going to be a poem about being in love. After the first line, my pen flowed with a deeper meaning.
mar Jun 2016
A glass of water, twenty sit ups
I like the way you eye me like candy
yet avoid me like a time bomb
five minutes until detonation
six minutes to figure out what to say when I am near you

A walk around the neighborhood, one house with it's lights on
Some people say “I love you”
You say “Go to sleep”
they mean the same thing
but I'm not tired

A crooked chin, thirty minutes late
You only talk to empty chairs and darkness
You only love things from 1978
I could be your ghost
if you want me to

A tear stained face, two parents who don't care
“It gets a little lonely, pretending to want to be alone”
I only get up early on days you say you'll be there
Why does it always end up that I am on my own?
Always?

A calendar from last year, three bruises on my neck
What is your favorite type of silence?
Mine is the kind when everything that can be said has been spoken
The kind where no one has an excuse anymore
No more secrets
Lina Banzaca Jul 2017
It's before first-period...
My teachers see me walking down the hallway and rudely gawk at my body as if it's some sort of disgrace.
Flash forward...
My teacher calls the assistant principal down to 'approve' my clothes.
I'm sent to the office to find out my mother was on her way.
The same mother who has to work every day to make a living, and to pay for my clothes.
The same mother who's making eighty-one cents to my principal's dollar.
The same mother who taught me to love my body and how to look appropriate.
The same mother who approved and complimented me, only an hour before, earlier that morning.
The bell for the second period rings.
I'm still sitting in the office.
Because wasting my time over what I'm wearing is more important than my education. Right?
I can hear the whispers of my degrading school's staff.
A few higher established adults to an 'outfit check'.
Quickly after, the assistant called my name.
I gulped down my fear and anxiety, as I stood up.
Then I'm sent into a room.
The dullest, dark, and grayest room I have ever entered.
"Hello Lina, we're gathered here to talk about your outfit today."
A tee shirt dress with shorts underneath.
It reminded me of when I was in the fifth grade.
Girls were told that we needed to cover ourselves up because boys thought about our bodies in a ****** manner, and if we dressed a certain way and something happened, it was our fault.
It's getting close to the third period when my mother arrives.
After the constant duel to what seemed, death, with words, I got to go.
I didn't have to change this time.
I was lucky.
Lucky that a teacher came to my defense along with my mother, and told them my outfit was fine, and I couldn't help that I was a curvier girl.
Instead of focusing on what girls are wearing, maybe we should tell boys to keep their hands to themselves and grow up.
Because that's what the girls have to learn from an early age.
Our bodies shouldn't be over sexualized for what's covering them.
Girls are **** shamed and dress coded everywhere because of what we wear.
What if we focused on teaching students to be mature young adults, rather than disgusting pigs who apparently can't handle a girl who shows her shoulders?
Let's all obsess over real world problems.
Not what someone wears, or if it's distracting to boys.
Just when someone starts having confidence (which is a victory in itself), we're torn down based off of the clothes we put on our bodies.
Girls are taught that it's our fault.
Boys can just open and claim your body, like some kind of book.
Even when the only word printed is NO.
We struggle in our bodies from such a young age.
Instead of worrying about a girl's apparel, let's worry about the men who need to learn to control themselves.
This was actually a real experience for me and dress coding is something that lots of young people, or teens, deal with. People need to learn that a girl is just as respectable as a man.
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