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Em May 2016
John. David. Issiah. Micheal. Andrew.  

Freshman year you were infatuated with him. You wanted to be whatever it was that he wanted: normal, attractive, popular, hot. You were willing to do anything to get his attention, yet it was never enough. He didn't know what he wanted. He didn't know what you could have given him. You were 15, young and full of hope. But you were never going to be what he wanted, and you knew that in your heart. You simply liked the way he made you feel in those few precious moments when his attention was focused on you. You loved him, maybe you still do. But you and I both know you'll never get to show him how much.

Sophomore year you found a distraction. You came to grips with the idea of never being his. At first getting involved with David didn't strike much enthusiasm, but as time went on he took up all of your time. You were so bitter towards him that you wasted precious time that could have been spent with him. You were too obsessed with a boy who was using you as a rebound, and couldn't realize that the time you had with John was slipping through your grasp. He left. He moved 1,493 miles away from you. He said he'd write, he said he'd call. You know now that he has forgotten all about you. Still I'm jealous of the people who flood his thoughts and get to simply enjoy his company. His energy was contagious. His smile was addicting. He promised he'd never forget but he did. It was devastating. Heartbreaking. So you used David as an even bigger distraction, until he too disappeared. And then once again, you were left alone.

At the start of junior year the depression got worse. Everything was hitting you all at once. It started to sink in that he was gone. You thought that one day everything would come together for the two of you, and suddenly he was just gone. Isaiah helped distract you a bit. He was always there to make you smile, but he wasn't John. Toward the end of the year someone new came along. Everything with him was so.. Easy. He made you laugh, made you feel wanted, made you feel worth something. He promised that "no matter what happened he'd always be there." It's ironic isn't it? How they can say words with such power and emotion like that and then leave. How promises mean so little. Michael never really explained it. One day he just woke up and "lost feelings". And once again all you could feel was worthless. He was wasting your time. He just wouldn't admit it.

Senior year was a wild one. Before it even started Issiag was admitting his "love" for you. He talked about going to school with you. Dating you. Growing old with you. Loving you. Making memories with you. When in reality I think he was using you to fill a spot that she couldn't. He'll always go back to her. Issiah and Lauren were meant for each other. You've known him for almost four years now and suddenly he just decided to disappear on you. You thought you were the best friends that he proclaimed you to be. You weren't all that he made you out to be. You were a distraction. A happy place. A drunk call. When Andrew came around saying all the right things it was refreshing. He sounded sincere. Then again, they all did. It felt right, it felt scary, it felt new. He seemed too good to be true, and he was. I'm sure part of me just wanted to believe him. Believe that I could be wanted in the capacity he proclaimed I was. He said all those things. "I love you", "I could never hurt you", "I want to have children with you", "let's buy a house", "hurting you would be hurting me". It wasn't what he said, every word he rolled  off of his lips effortlessly and without flaw. It's what he did. It's the moments when you weren't looking. The exhaustion and stress that set in because of the double life that he led. The guilt and pride which overcame his face. He thought he got away with it. I know the truth. I know what it was about for him. I know what he did. Even now, 7 months later he won't admit to it. But it's okay. I know. After he left all I could think about was John. He started the patterns of goodbye. All I could think about was what he would do if and when he found out what I had done. I felt worthless because now, more than ever, I knew I would never be what he deserved.

It's that unsaid goodbye. The one which comes like a thief in the dark of the night. There's no warning, no time for questions, no room for error. One day they are there and they love you and the next.. They're gone. The person you knew and were so fond of has disappeared into the night. I think that for a long time they're just working up the courage to tell you that you aren't what they want, but they don't know how because you're both already so invested in one another. So they cut it short, cut deep, cut to the point. You aren't what they wanted. You'll never be what they wanted. I think that's what ***** me up the most.

All of them made me feel worthless. They continued to send the message that I was never good enough for them, it wasn't until Andrew showed me that perhaps I was too good for all of them. I don't deserve to be a convince. I don't deserve to be an object. I don't deserve to be a drunk call. I don't deserve to be a distraction. I deserve to be so much more.

High school is more than just nouns and arithmetic. It's more than staying up all night to finish a paper or to read a book. The last four years have taught me so much more than just how to solve an quadratic equation or how to find the mass of a star. I've learned to dream wildly and love fearlessly. Life is scary. Love is a fine line. Walk across it slowly and with caution, but don't be afraid to fall. High school is about making connections that will last a lifetime. It's about memories. How people made you feel. It's been a rough, wild, long, sad, joyous four years filled with many many critical events. But it is four years that will never ever be forgotten.
Written 5.24.16

Something always brings me back to you, it never takes too long.
Rod Watson May 2016
My days are counting down
I am almost done can't mess up now
These years have flew by From Freshman To Senior
But I ask myself have I been a great leader

Have I made a difference over these years
Have I helped those I love heal all of their tears
I ask myself as these last days fall
Did I really stand proud and tall

Did I do what was right
Corrected all my wrongs
I am about to be rewarded for these twelve years
that lasted so so long

As these last days are falling
I can finally say
I can be free at last from
Ole L and E
This is about the last days of high school as i am about to graduate on May 26 I now how 8 days left  

LE Stands for Liberty Eylau My High School
jack of spades Apr 2016
i spent the back half of freshman year as a ghost, drifting through these halls without ever touching anything, haunting my own bones with nothing more under my skin than an echo, watery lungs and glassy eyes that couldn’t see past my own transparency. floating. i don’t like to talk about it.

i spent the start of sophomore year as a zombie, revived but not quite alive again, less like glass and more like porcelain, trailing my hands along the murals and trying to feel again. i existed, but i was still searching for existence. in january i found pieces of myself in a meteor, and in amethyst geodes and lunar eclipses i found that i was less undead and more E.T.
either way i didn’t feel quite human, like i was off by two shades, so i doodled UFOs into the corners of all my notes and wrote poems about people who smiled like stars in the halls, whose laughs made me feel like i was finally home.

i’ve spent all of junior year driving. nothing feels okay in the same way that leaving does. highways sing lullabyes with road signs, other late-night cruisers sending Morse code messages to the helicopters overhead. i don’t have to think.
i’ve spent all of junior year side-stepping every single pestering question about what i’m doing with the next ten years of my life, signing away my soul to banks for student loans, all for a degree that statistically i won’t even need down the road for anything past sharpening my job resumes, like “hey, look, i’ve got all this debt in the pursuit of a higher education, please hire me.”

i’ve spent my junior year catching up on breathing.
i’ve spent my junior year catching up on sleeping.
i spent the first two years of high school half-dead and fully awake, chugging along like a train destined for nowhere, nothing.

i want to spend my senior year moving.
i want to spend my senior year running.
i want to spend my senior year finding life through expelling the ghosts in my bones and burning the skeletons that always left dust on my conscious whenever i reached past them to get t-shirts out of my closet.
i want to spend my senior year shouting.
i want to spend my senior year knowing that i am already everything i ever will be combined with everything i already was.
i want to spend my senior year forming galaxies with my fingertips.
i want to end my high school career knowing that there is a universe of possibilities inside of me.

i spent freshman year as a ghost, but ghosts are best used as metaphors for memories,
and something i’m best at is forgetting.
there are days where i still feel like a zombie, but who doesn’t feel like that at least every single monday morning?
When the first words out of his mouth was
"Sup *****"
I knew a certain few things

1. He was not getting laid tonight.

2. None of us in this room know why he's the party leader,
All glancing at each other in awe
nodding like a hive mind chanting
yes, this man is in fact an *******,
no, i don't know how he rose to power
yes, he did just call us *****.

3. I could think of a million one liners that would earn me way more respect up front than that.

I don't know what I was expecting
walking into this basement

Maybe some small fame
The same small fame I get from getting on a stage for slam poetry
or being cast in a reality T.v. show
Or singing kareoke at my local bar.

Maybe for the free pizza
We've all been there.

And yes, maybe it was for the revenge.
the campaign slogan you stamped
recruitment posters with.
Join the evil league of evil!
Launch revenge against the modern heroes of today!

But when I sit down in this small fold up metal lawn chair,
in what is presumably his moms basement
Behind a projecter  (also probablly his moms)
Next to captain nose bleed
And princess *******.

I already don't have a whole lot of faith in his agenda

So when his opening line
Was "Sup *****"
Like that is some sort of impressive villanous monolouge peared down into one and a half words.
I lost any ounce of faith I had in this cult.
And decided to Usurp this "Party Leader".

Now you might be asking:
Why?
Why would you want to be the head of the evil league of evil?
Founded in this pre pubescent boys moms basement
Whos only followers so far seem to be captain nosebleed,
and princess *******.

Well
clearly
You don't understand.
Captain nosebleed is already under the thumb of princess *******.
I mean lets be real without princess *******
We're three dudes in a basement
Pretending to be super villans.

And you've been known to be pretty charming.

But in your friends evil lair.
Sorry
Moms basement.

You start to evaluate your situation
Gotta make a descision.

Are you fighting for Revenge,
or the small fame?
As freshman, we learned that our bodies don't belong to us they are for men they are for governmental dispute they are up for discussion and scrutiny
As sophomores, we discovered that our bodies are up for grabs, for touching and snatching. They are for men they are for boys they are for the camera and for consumption.
As juniors, we found it impossible to love ourselves
Because how can we treasure something that isn't ours?
We laughed as we watched,
We smiled as we played.
Then suddenly came a Romeo
To surprise your day.He asked to play,
You nodded to agree.

Little did you know?
He set it up for you.
You spoke of numbers,
He moved the options,
You chose one paper,
There popped the question.
Go with me? He had written,
You sat staring, not saying a word.
Actually shocked and yet a bit smitten.
Jeers surfaced, wolf whistles released.
Your cheeks' red however, somehow increased.
Your heart was pounding,
Was this really true?
I guess so,
Since You said __ to Him.
Will you go to prom with me?
Party girls always get hurt,
Passed out on someone’s couch
While her parents are at work,
Her friends take off to college
While she takes off her shirt,
Party girls always get hurt.

Party girls always get hurt,
She wants a relationship
But can't make it work,
She wants to wear a dress
But only wears skirts.
She wants a good guy,
But she’s too much of a flirt,
Party girls always get hurt.

Party girls always get hurt,
She wants to be a writer
But can't find the words,
She wants a job
But shows up hungover to work,
Party girls always get hurt.

Party girls always get hurt,
She trusts her friends
But can never be too sure,
She wants some attention
But people pass as a blur,
She's a party girl
And she’ll always be hurt.
Julia Quizon Mar 2016
Today, I am beginning
Only to end.
This body has blossomed in a field of green;
Has bled shades of red;
Stared at a horizon ablaze with yellow;
And now, this body will face
The bluest of skies.

Whether my skies are clear or
Consumed with droplets of rain,
I will always end up seeing
Nothing but blue.

Nothing but 10 shades of blue,
Until I see another sun set
Until a palette of colours are
Painted on the horizon
Until stars are forced to form constellations
Until a beginning of
A new morning.

But one day, my new mornings
Will not consist of
The bluest of skies.
There may be a hint of pink,
a touch of purple,
or a sliver of orange.

And that's okay.

Because weather forecasts were not meant
To only be clear blue skies and
Colours were not meant to have
Only one shade.

Blue possesses a fading beauty
Now unappealing
But never forgotten
It is THE last set of my own primary colours -
green, red, and yellow.
Once I set down this
Familiar brush dipped in
blue paint,
I will start anew with a
Fresh set of colours.

A clean canvas once again.

Today, I am ending
Only to begin.
thank you to my two best friends for pushing me to write again.
#smole
One and Only Mar 2016
I feel so little,
It's so hard to keep trying
When none notice you.
What wrong have I done to you? I was not the one who stopped trying, I was not the one who fell apart and succumbed to everything else, I was not the human who became a robot! I wish I could say you are nothing to me, but Lord knows I still love you.
In an oversized denim jacket Stands
a girl who treats kisses
like handshakes.
She's young.
With makeup done perfectlly
hidden beneath a baseball cap.
I wish for her to treat I love you like thank yous
so that she has her heart broken less often.
So she may pay attention to what all the men are thankful for
So she can hang on to one that's thankful for more than just
She treats kisses like handshakes.
For Alex
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