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Kalen Dion Jul 2018
The hardest words
I've ever written
were a riposite "farewell",
a chapter left unfinished,
a blank page in my book of life,
set aside for you
rebecca Aug 2018
It’s been months since I’ve written.
Now, with a shaking hand and bruised ribs,
an unforgiving mind and a whirlwind of words unwritten,
I’ll put my thoughts back on paper. Where they come from.
I want to write, I told a coworker. When I’m older.
But it’s been months since I’ve been able-
to afraid to think and too thoughtless to write,
pushing through life like a Halloween corn maze, constantly lost, yet never knowing
How or Why or Where or When.
But I feel I can- hope I can,
know I will.
So, though it’s been months since
a single word came out,
I’m taking my brain and spilling it out-
out for the world to see?
Pyrrha Jul 2018
You've been in my head again
Refusing to leave like the earworm you are
So through paper and thick black ink
I will write you away
Earworm is a term used for something stuck in your head
Danielle Jul 2018
Little leaky emotions run,
Dribbling onto paper, or
Those pale computer screens.
Mostly black and blue
Never white.
A good summation of why I write
Maxim Keyfman Jul 2018
works light
the machine is the same
through the forest
around the rain of ice
january rain

paper in cars
paper in the car
and the time transmits the signal
the lights are on
and the heart does not hold
more words from my

dark blue forest
dark blue forest
chopin sounds
a piano sounds
from oaks from trees
from a falling sunset

of that sunset
bright blue sunset
farther green
further dark green
what will take us away
in a great melody

which will take
us in the last way
in the last bright way
whom everyone was afraid of
everyone was afraid
and were saved escaped

lights work
works light
the machine is the same
through the forest through the moon
transparent
january rain

20.07.18
Sarah Mann Jul 2018
i have anxiety
undiagnosed.
well that’s not true i’ve been to therapists, psychologists.
many, so many doctor appointments.
i have old medications for it, i haven’t kept up with
i don’t like the way they force my brain
to conform to the usual and to feel a certain way

sometimes it feels like my head is stuffed with an overflowing amount of crumpled paper *****
piling up crowding the available space in my frontal lobe
the things i never said, the things i should have never said,
the things that someone never said to me.
that special someone that holds hands with the prettier girl
about two feet away from me.
she’s a better fit for you. i guess
the grade that i got on my last math test but really don’t care about
because by this point i’m habituated to the sting of failure.
i sit in my room and cry by myself because my nerves feel like they are ripping apart
or maybe it’s the sensation of exploding
similar to the creation of a star, or i guess in my case,
the painful closure of a life well lived.
of a time far too stressed.

my brain feels very full while simultaneously existing almost on empty.
i wake up from a drowsy late afternoon depression nap with
my neurons firing too fast for me to catch up with and a weirdly powerful
and persevering sense of anger or maybe it’s frustration.
i feel like i’m stuck in a crevasse between the cliffs of successful and beautiful
but maybe i’ve always been here
living in the pits of my insanity stuck under the weights of my anxiety

all of these things are written on these crumpled pieces of paper
there are so many of them, i used to be in control, not anymore
the world feels as if it’s tumbling out of my hands
rolling down the hill and crushing my motivation with it
there are so many things on my mind
right now that no more would be able to fit 
in my brain, it’s overcrowded like an LA rush hour
with time speeding by, with me just sat there working from my tower.

i have reached maximum capacity
and yet i can't stop thinking things,
i can't stop saying stupid things,
i can't stop wishing things. 
i sigh, i reach up to my forehead and i swipe away remnants of exhaustion
and bend down to pick up my backpack that weighs far more than it should
with my shaky hands caused by a high intake of caffeine
that i now require just to stay awake in class
i’m tired but as i sit here avoiding responsibilities
and the anxiety that often travels along with it

i'm hoping that one day when i get to this place
of unbearable tensions in my shoulders
and stress that pulls the insanity directly from my mind
that translates to unrelenting tears falling from my eyes.
the top of my head will crank itself open
and all of these crumpled pieces of thoughts and worries
will pour out into a neat little pile
on the floor 
and disappear
at least for just a while.
that would be nice.
as my arms let go and the tension falls away along with my body
letting go of the stress and the pressures of
holding those pillars together
and fall through the sky
just so i have enough time to
take a truly deep breath.

here’s to a peaceful ending,
a crumbled paper ball fate.
May 9, 2018 2:22PM
During AP Week/theatre performance show of course.
Lyn-Purcell Jul 2018
How
How I wish I could
Turn my back on sands of time
Tap quill on paper
Gaaaaahhhhh! Just when I thought I had my anxieties under control.
I hate when I feel out of it, but the best way to get it out is to write it out.
Lyn ***
Sabila Siddiqui Jul 2018
These words written
are more understood and accepted
than the ones, I wear and speak.
My thoughts are tucked
safely in these words
than the ones I disclose to people.
My pen never
leaves
decieves
hurt
hide
and judge
like people do.
It just pours ink for me to craft
and offers paper for me to be listened.
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