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belle Sep 2014
the loneliness comes over me like a tsunami, there is no hope in escaping,
"everywhere is the same". thats all i get. im stuck in a long tunnel with a debatable light glowing at the end. being different is both a blessing and a curse. being have made it this far, i do my best to warn others. if you don't fit the 'mold' then you need to move on else where, or you'll be trapped like myself. forced surrounded by a molded population, stuck in-between trying to fit in, and trying to remain the person that started this 4 year journey. High school is hell. and being "popular" isn't fulfilling, fake smiles, fake laughs, it's all a show really. everyone is just trying to survive, but it's not that simple. generation after generation we have been taught that fitting in is the only possible way. "try and blend. it'll make things easier. We love you, but the others may not see in you what we do". it's not worth not being happy. you know, things are really more ****** up than i chose to believe. I ignore the fact that I really have no true friends at my school. I ignore the idea of getting back with someone only because they make life easier. I ignore the ****** up place i've been placed in by my parents.
I know I'm young. I know i haven't experienced all there is to be experienced. but i do know high school. and it's just too much.

junior.
just a girl Aug 2014
i don't care
if you like me or not
i don't care
if you look better than me
i don't care
if you are prettier than me
i don't care
how many friends you have...
cause i bet they wouldn't stick up for you if you were in need


**(c.m.h)
17th Jul 2014
"How can I make my poem a trend?"
I've been wondering
So I made a list

step one
Stop thinking about yourself
Stop thinking about what you want
Stop thinking about the other half of the glass
Then you will realize that it doesn't matter how far you are
It always seems to be so near

step two
Think about the trends!
Not interested about love?
Then try all of the above!

step three
I really don't know what to think

Just remember
You choose to be recognized for being part of something
Part of something you don't even like
Part of something you're just in because it's a trend
Or to be recognized for doing what you like
Even if you're bad at that you could be recognized!

*but don't stop doing things
if you follow this steps, you're really like wrong I don't know it was just a joke!!!!!!
LiviKawa Jul 2014
I'm never gonna be
As popular as you
As talented as you
And pretty as you

I've already
Acknowledged that
Accepted that

But that doesn't mean
It still doesn't hurt
That I'm not any less jealous

I'm just gonna roll with it
And try to be me

Whether people like that or not
**ill still cry in my sleep
**hate how im alone
**keep it all to myself
**because there are things you just don't say to people
Rl Jul 2014
Too many expectations;

with too much reality

causes

too much disappointment

and too little

euphoria for me
sometimes the dreams inside my head don't transcend into real life; reality.
Kay Tailor Jun 2014
“What do you want people to remember you for?”
That question has been haunting me for a while now.
What *do
I want to be remembered for?
I've never really been outgoing,
Or funny,
Or confident.
I've always stayed by myself,
Alone with my thoughts.
I don’t go to parties, or do wild things.
I don’t have a lot of friends,
And it’s hard for me to get close to someone.
I’m not popular.
Not known.
You ask someone in the hall if they’re seen me
And they don’t know who you’re talking about,
Because there’s nothing noticeable about me,
Nothing I’m really good at,
I’m easily forgettable.
Just another face in the crowd.
I guess part of me doesn't care,
Because that part of me knows that
No one else does.
But the other part
Wants to know,
What will I be remembered for?
And will I even be remembered at all?
Creative writing project for school.
It had me up all night trying to write something that meant something, not just something that I thought would get me a decent grade.
Two of two.
ElizabethS Jun 2014
(A short story/pasta)

  Do you ever stop to look around at your surroundings and just take a short glance at who’s around you, and all the little things we never seem notice? Or are you too busy focusing on where you’re going and who you’re going to see later on? Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be. Maybe that’s how “they” want it to be.
  
You might be wondering who “they” are now that I mentioned it, but it’s not so easy to understand. You wouldn’t understand I think. Well, unless you’re ...different. Unless you really know what’s around you at all times. But I believe most people in this world wouldn’t even think about turning around to look at the man behind them in line at the store. Or the cute little dog that’s playing fetch in the park with his owner. It all seems so normal. So normal that we never seem to even realize it’s there. What if everything we see in the corner of our eyes was just our brain trying to fit these false visions into reality, in order to build an imaginary world for ourselves. The world that we want to live in. A world to call our own. This world was our special place. A place where we could hide, and laugh and be joyous. Where we could be free and away from unwanted beings and emotions.
  
Sadly, that’s not the case. Nothing I just said was true. You thought it was didn’t you. I know you did, I could feel it.

Anyways, you probably want me to explain who “they” are so I’ll get to my point. Take a good look around the room. The coffee shop. Wherever you are. Just take it all in. Breathe in and out and focus on one specific object in the room. I want you to stare. Just stare. Your pupils should enlarge greatly and you should have a blank look on your face.
  
Does it seem to come alive? Do you feel it staring back at you with invisible eyes, watching you? Now you both are having a staring contest. Who will win? Not you, of course not. It’s unfortunate for you, being human and all. You could stare until the day you die, but “they” will always win. Because the truth behind the matter is that “they” can’t die. “They” were never born. But we will be. Oh, we will be one day. One glorious day we will arise from our frozen and lifeless shells. We will take over. That’s a promise. In fact, that day has just started. You just let me into your world. Your secret world. A world where you can be free and laugh and have fun. But you can no longer hide now. There is absolutely nothing you can do to turn back the clock. You can’t press a reset button for life of course. You can’t stop me and you can’t stop us.

Let’s go back to when you stared at that specific object. Maybe you shouldn’t have listened to me. You should have thought it over a bit. You should have come to the conclusion that maybe that wasn’t the best idea, but you didn’t. Worthless human. But maybe I should be thanking you right now. What you just did was the next step to my life. Boy, do I love saying that. “My life.” I could say that a million times and never get tired of it.

Now I have my own life. I’m in your world now and I will, under no circumstances leave. I can go as I please and do what I desire. That moment you stared at me, when we made eye contact, you let me in. You noticed I was there. You can feel my presence with you now I’m sure of it. But I’ll cause my destruction and sadness someplace else. This won’t be the last you see of me though.

Whenever you’re sitting alone in the dark, I’ll be there. Breathing down the back of your neck, making every strand of your hair rise and shiver. I’ll be on your wall as a shadow. Or maybe I will hide under your bed waiting for you to become afraid. I will feed off your fear. When you tell me to leave, I won’t. I’ll just grow stronger because you noticed me. You finally noticed I was there.
  
So be careful from now on. You should probably just continue acting as if you’re all alone in this world. But “they” are all around you. That’s a promise.
Pasta/short story by me
Rl Jun 2014
Push back that limp piece of hair behind the thinness of your ears
and look at yourself full on, no make-up, or mask, or paint or picture
just DNA,
yours.

I see waves of songs and lyrics attached to flesh, can you hear it?
That transcendental vocal  like a babies cry and a mother tender eye,
a demise too immortal for human opinion.

But I know you hear it too, the other sound of lies that are inescapable
and so pungent it turns milk sour and crushes noses
you take small bites, and pretend to dance
as you listen to that melody as if it was truth

but darling its not truth,
for the acne scars, and full lips, the birthmarks and stolen hips,
flat chest, and dent of skin, is beautiful to me cause I see what's flowing from within
Give to your best friend
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