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Xallan Jan 28
let my entire purpose be this essay
let my words have wings that lift my mood
let my thoughts tie themselves into knots
so complicated that they restrict them too

let my mind eat itself like a snake
unhinging its jaw to gulp down an egg
let me find the nest of true meaning
let this essay buoy me up with purpose
let it drive me to share rather than destroy
let my words become art and truth
rather than wither away into unmeaning

**** am I inspired to write
but certainly not anything with meaning
I want to dump my whole person
into these empty words and watch
from above as the carcass floats downstream
having drowned in a bucket, in a puddle
of my own impetuous laziness then

I want them to see the callouses
and know that I tried my best- but
I want them to scan my wordlogged brain
and know that the whole ordeal was
pointless anyhow, at least with that
great blockage up there I mustve known
I was toast

I want to bang my head against a wall
the bruises will run to the floor and stain
empowering me to leave a mark
I want to think think think get them gears
turning by figuring out how to *****
my coconut, like a dumb monkey
let my mind meet my thick dumb skull

we dont think too much, just incorrectly
I want to **** it, to ponder less and live more
we think less and therefore live at all
It seems I never stop thinking, just like
it seems I never stop breathing
both essential for life, and death
and ever so slowly I burn and melt away

yeah this is some therapeutic torture
Writing through water
Thinking through dirt.
Brain, getting fuzzy.
really? don’t lie.
Study? I cannot.
Make me do it!
Please, make me do it..
Me, I, seeks help.
I can’t think the same,
I’m not the same.
Homework, tall brick wall,
Sports, I can do,
Essay, felt the tear,
I want to scream,
But I feel nothing.
It’s not a thing
Yet, but hopefully
Soon, I won’t fail.
But I will fall down
And never get up.
5 syllables 4 syllables. A poem I wrote while writing an essay, an essay I did not finish, an essay I wanted to cry over.
I love
how now
we're just so close.
We'd get in trouble for each other.
I let you copy off
my homework
when you didn't get it done.
You give me
all the answers in class
when I'm stuck.
I'm glad we became friends.
Let's stay that way...
Nomkhumbulwa Jan 7
I am sorry mum
for everything,
For who I am,
For what i've done.

I am sorry mum,
For everything,
For what im not,
What I havent done.

I am sorry mum,
For staying away,
For being with friends,
For being far away.

I am sorry mum,
That I am ****,
For what I wear,
For the state of my hair.

I am sorry mum,
That my opinions are wrong,
That I spoke without asking,
For the things that I know.

I am sorry mum,
That you think I dont care,
That I have upset the family,
That they never wanted me there.

I am sorry mum,
That you couldnt love me,
That I wasnt normal,
That other people like me.

I am sorry mum,
That I have expressed things,
That I have dropped things,
Caused a mess in your home.

I am sorry mum
That I wanted to study,
That I liked being outside,
And that I looked untidy.

I am sorry mum,
That Im an embarrassment,
Have caused so much shame,
And that I cause you pain.

I am sorry mum,
That im always a disappointment,
Showed you my photos of Africa,
I know now that I shouldnt.

I am sorry mum,
That I didnt have the right friends,
That I didnt wear enough make-up,
That I read about Science, not fame.

I am sorry mum,
For being vegetarian,
For picking out bits of meat,
In front of everyone.

I am sorry mum,
For when I didnt know what i'd done,
And you had to stand on my foot,
Or pinch me ******* my arm.

I am sorry mum,
For going walking,
For not doing house work instead,
Or finding something else to be done.

I am sorry mum,
For my work with charities,
For my love for Africa,
For feeling there so free.

I am sorry mum,
For having weird phobias,
And letting you down,
By mentioning it to others.

I am sorry mum,
That I struggle with Maths,
For being dyscalculaic,
I know this is bad.

I am sorry mum
For causing you sickness,
And for not being there,
I know it looks like I dont care.

I am sorry mum
For upsetting others,
Being the cause of all problems,
And hurting my brother.

I am sorry mum,
For my choice of work,
For the places i've been to,
For not always putting you first.

I am sorry mum,
That I made you so angry,
You had to hit me in the face,
And I made you go to bed unhappy.

I am sorry mum,
That I was quiet in school,
That Claire was my best friend,
That we were both quiet in school.

I am sorry mum,
That I chose Scotland,
For moving far away,
It cannot be forgiven.

I am sorry mum,
For my musical instruments,
I know I dont play them well,
That I gave you a headache instead.

I am sorry mum,
That I played the violin,
At my brothers wedding,
For you- ruining everything.

I am sorry mum,
That i;ve never been good enough,
That I always let you down,
I am just never good enough.

I am sorry mum,
For speaking about family,
For letting you down again,
And the family.

I am sorry mum
That I struggled so much,
You had to put chilli in my mouth,
As I couldnt do my homework.

I am sorry mum,
That I went "home"
That I let the **** happen,
That I spoiled your "name".

I am sorry mum,
That I do not love you,
I have cursed myself and tried,
But I cannot love you.

But I still hear your voice,
And it tortures me still,
And the thought of your anger,
Still gives me chills.

I am so sorry mum,
That I am a failure,
But I am no longer "Emma"...
...I am "Nomkhumbulwa"....
Back to the depressing style sorry :(  This could have been much longer, but think ive bored people enough.  If you can understand it, then thanks.
Brett Palmero Dec 2018
Since when did I lose my complain card?
My wow my work paid off card
My ******* that was tough card
My I am so tired from all these notes card
My I need to study for 3 tests and do 2 projects card
My I am proud of what I can do and how hard I worked card
Complaining is considered arrogance for me. I sometimes need to use it to vent too. Just because it makes sense to me in the end, doesn't mean I didn't have it any easier.
AshJ Dec 2018
The table that remains a mere desk on usual days
Is now a study for me.
The hours that seem persistent to tick when bored,
Now seem to race me.

Books all around me, pen marks stain my hands that either remain clenched
In a hammering motion while memorising or
Tracing lines, page by page.
Yes, taking snaps of breaks while drawing an absurd portrait of a dog.
Creativity, I won't suppress you if you chose a better hour.

Warm tears swell up in my eye.
In the debate of no drive and greed for success.
"Scores don't matter!", "Studies are important" comments flying cross the room.
But not louder than the bedlam behind these eyes that droop.

Why don't I accept the turn out when I know I hadn't worked hard.
This greed that never stirs at the last piece of apple-crumble-with-cinnamon-hint,
Now panting like a flesh-hungry varmint.
"Success does not equal A+ on the report!"
Replying through the heavy breaths, "Right, however its only those A+'s that run the world."

Although I'm aware an ideas' value is the heaviest.
Beating the high scoring mass, looking over it in disdain.
I knock my head to spring some out.
Back to the table, stooping over the book aiming for the higher grade.
Gates and Zuckerberg have definitely proved it's an idea that takes to stir the world and make it spin on your pinky. But what if I don't seem to have an idea? Can I just sit waiting for it to pop? Left with no choice we all go after the a+, don't we?
As I sit at the table
Seemingly unable

To figure out this math
As I make myself a path

In this work-intensive
Price expensive

astraea Oct 2018
i am one of those girls.
today, my hair waves softly,
and looks exactly right.
today, my shirt was tied exactly right,
so you could barely see the soft skin beneath.

today, i left.
i walked away from a pedestal
-yes, i would have been good,
yes, i loved it.
yes, i was amazing.

yes, i was tired and
couldn’t do it anymore.

i stand in the rain today,
on walkways where wet orange leaves are plastered to the ground.
i sit inside, scratching my pen on soft paper,
watching the sky darken grey and cold.

i am one of you.

i am the girl, standing on the bleachers with her eyes to lights.
it is friday night.
i am the girl who wears her school’s shirt,
on leggings and with pride.
i am the girl, who relaxes,
stands guard at the pool.
i am the girl who does her homework,
and always asks questions.

i am lost. i miss this,
the glory and the feeling. i miss being that good.
but i am content, my heart is at ease.

and don’t worry, the world’s still gonna know my name.
rebecca Sep 2018
YouTube videos replace my creepy, old, Chemistry teacher.
I can't keep up in French, and don't ask if I can understand: I can't.
AP World History might put me to sleep in a coffin with all this stress.
I'm much too anxious to be my old, creative self for English class.
Who would have guessed that I look forward to Algebra II,
where things are somehow simple--
where black and white puzzles can be actually be solved.
I'm so stressed I can't do anything to stop being like this
I should be studying.,
I should be reading,
but here I am about to have a mental breakdown
because I'm so **** stressed!
I'm exhausted because I stay up too late,
due to the fact that I'm literally drowning in a sea of papers and books.
I just want to sleep,
but I can't,
I'm too busy worrying about my next exam.
Sorry, but I really needed to write something. I know it's bad, but I am too tired to care, so enjoy.
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