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K D Kilker May 2015
Dying is not the real pain.
The real pain is living inconsequentially
futilely, while others forbid you to die,
but forbid you feel earnestly;
seeing a whole unblemished person,
but little do they know
I am already dead.

#

It's not my pain that disgusts them,
it's the cutting
and that's why they treat the symptoms
but neglect the cause
and forbid me to talk about her
because the sound of her name
makes you regret me.

#

I AM MATURE:
I am new and improved and dead.
This was written on the back of a folded statistics assignment in English 107 my freshman year. The first two poems are heavy-handed (not my usual poetry, but I felt sometimes that I couldn't express myself). However, the last one is short and vague. My then-boyfriend said his friends thought I was much more mature than I was when I first met him at seventeen, but I felt that I had just grown afraid of people.

(Coming of Age - K. D. Kilker) Years of handwritten poetry and stories will be typed for safekeeping online following a technological failure in 2013. I am currently twenty-one and the pieces range from the age of fourteen to nineteen. They may not be good, but they are revealing.
Tiffany Marie Apr 2015
We have always thought of nature as something of wild life,blooming flowers anf sunnny days.But nature is maturing bringing rainy days when we are sad and lightening and thunder when we're mad sunny days when we're happy but nature is maturing in a so different way life us being brought into it familes explore it.Can you explore A maturing nature?
I think my thoughts type them in and press save poem
Seán Mac Falls Mar 2015
The lone stark bugle cry—
Horn of the great mountain elk,
Ripples down cold through morning
Dusted wood as the mushrooming dews        
Drop into dearly waded pools under
Fawning toes of forage and cool
Evergreen.
Jeffrey Pua Feb 2015
Girl, naked,
In an orange vest,
Sinking ships and hearts.*

© 2015 J.S.P.
Draft.
Miss Liss Jan 2015
i see you around, you're a new girl at school,
you do what you can to try to be cool.
party ******* the weekends, never miss a beat,
guys all lined up, so many people to meet.
you dance to every song without a care,
you thrive off of every man's stare.
you're this year's version of "that girl,"
at this small school you're rare as a pearl.
that girl knew where all the parties were thrown,
she had guys all around her and was never alone.
that girl was the one every girl wanted to be,
she was the one everyone wanted to see.
that girl who was fooled, that girl who was played,
she got caught up with guys who wanted to get laid.
that girl who would make so many mistakes,
she regrets the night before every time she wakes.
that girl who needed use her lessons to learn,
she instead wanted to give every guy a turn.
that girl who has her priorities out of whack,
she's a breakdown just waiting to attack.
one day she'll realize that there's more to life.
one day she'll get married and become a wife.
one day she'll know "that girl" is not really her,
one day she'll discover that she is mature.
from the outside looking in, i've had my fun,
in my few years of college i've learned a ton.
i've been around the block, seen what there is to see.
finally i realized "that girl" isn't the real me.
Taylor Jan 2015
I rub my skin raw because of the way your desire scarred its way across my unwilling flesh. You were selfish, you are selfish. You are greed in a human body, and I am paying for it. Triggered by another man the same as you, who put his hands around my neck and seemed confused by the concept of a woman not wanting him. Who quickly decided he didn't care either way, and that I could get him off "willingly" by my own method or be forced in ways I would not survive. There is no such thing as yes when no is taken from you, when you have a choice between two evils and you choose the one you think you can live through. When silence answers questions and "I don't want to do this" is ignored because his **** means more than the choices of the person he's trying to force himself on. That is no man, that is a monster dressed as a high school student pretending consent can be forced. Because you made me decide between you ****** me unprotected or getting you off with something else, and I chose the one I thought I could live with, that wouldn't result in an unwanted life growing inside an unwilling body, a body that wasn't willing at conception and who would probably make the choice to end its budding inside of her before having her rapists child. Because you triggered memories of coercion with your threats, because you made it happen again and afterwards had the ******* nerve to get me some ******* grape juice and hand it to me ******* ******* pouting because I "looked like I hated every minute of that" and you "didn't even get to **** so it wasn't even worth it." Because coercing me into ****** activities under threat of unprotected **** apparently wasn't worth it because you didn't get to **** me, because me telling you no and saying I didn't want to until you got so fed up you wrapped your hands around my neck and squeezed annoyed you. Because you put your **** over my free will, over me as a human being. And I get to suffer because of it. You made me a survivor twice over and you smile at me in the hallways like you're somehow still my friend.
In correlation to Untitled, because there are no more words left for this.
Veemz Jan 2015
Dear god,
I want to know how she's doing
I want to go back to when I was happy with her
The butterflies in my stomach
The racing of my heart
The nervousness in my voice
I want hold her again so badly
I want to kiss her soft lips
I want to get into the fights
I want to tell her she was right
Right about how if we dated our friendship would stop
Right about how she wasn't the girl for me
Right about how I should enjoy college without her
Cause if there's one thing she taught me
Is that I need to focus on my identity
And for that
I want to give thanks to her
For if it wasn't for her i wouldn't be me.
And for that one beautiful month I am forever grateful
Love,
Vimal
shayfer Jan 2015
There was a time I thought I loved you,

and to be honest,
I didnt.

I loved you the way a little girl loves a stuffed animal; an affection, comfort, something that could never amount to anything id actually want, but something I could play pretend with.

The stuffed animal could be anything, especially something I could believe in and while that is good for a while, it will never be enough. playing pretend gets old, and imagining fairytales will stop after the cruelty of the world butts in.

Im just glad I outgrew stuffed animals.
Jeffrey Pua Dec 2014
Do not lead this finger...
...to your tongue.

It...excites.*

© 2014 J.S.P.
Writer's Block
chainedwhore Nov 2014
I have 2 recient guys i was seeing....

One is old and should be  or act like a normal adult...

the other is younger and sort of wild and fun.....but a youngster..

the youngster acts more like an adult then the adult does....

How sad is that (for the old man?)
I came across some poems you wrote and i know theyre about me so here are a few for you.
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