my rose colored glasses
cannot censor the fear
i feel in the presence of him.
like a suspect,
the lady-like lenses crack under pressure
when his hand conveniently slips
on a busy night.
bustling, blinding, blending
right into the blur are his hands
guiding my anxieties and insecurities through the roof
as he grants himself permission
to lust my body the way no one has ever done before.
and i feel the foriegn touch
unwelcome on my adolescent hips.
but still i stand with a padlock over my trembling lips.

I can feel
the heavy pressure
none of this is getting any fresher
they've concocted an anaconda plan
that has increased the size of my black caravan
into an elongated limo
with empty seats
and a bunch of flashing lights
from cameras of people
who really could care less
i'm not looking to swindle or impress
i'm just try to address
my clear insecurities and shortcomings
it's not worth singing or humming
is it worth anything at all?
there's always something trying to stall
my improvement
there's a more content version of myself
it's mostly likely inhabiting in the Persian
where the least amount of peace exists
arrows, guns, bullets persist
elbows, arms, knees insist
to be without
what do I have to be upset about?

Tee Nov 29

What do i regret?
I regret that
i cant form a sentence
the words construct
and break apart
almost like they know
theyre too ashamed to
be associated with eachother

I drag words from the back
of my mind and force them
into submission
i try to speak but silence
is a weight and
words are foreign.

You translate.
The silence...
not so repressive
becomes a blanket
i want to hide under

Ashleigh Nov 23

You’re on my mind less and less
It’s taken time but I’m finally no longer a mess
I know now that I just wanted to feel
Thinking our romance would be unreal
All of the pressure broke the dream
Something I hope will not become my life’s theme

Leila Shearer Nov 18

Get off my back, ok?
I've got heaps of homework
I've got a practice internal
which looks completely difficult
I've got to pack for a field trip
even though I don't have all the things, but I'll make do
All of which has to be completed in two days.

I've been exhausted,
Haven't been getting enough sleep
I'm not ready for the pressure of school
My mind isn't on that level yet
Woken up this morning,
Nagged to do lots of things
As if this pressure isn't enough already.

It's only 9:50AM,
My day's starting to go down hill,
It's turning to shit.
Can't you see that I'm stressed out?
Can't you see I've got enough on my plate?
Can't you see I'm fighting back tears?
Can't you see I'm trying to motivate myself to do everything else?
Are you trying to bring me to my breaking point?
It sure as hell feels like it!

It makes me want to scream,
Throw things,
Yell and hit,
I want to have a break from all this,
Get away until I calm down
Can everything just be easy?

But I'll square my shoulders and hold my head high,
You won't see me cry.
No one will see me cry.
I'm not going to lose it,
I won't make a mess.
I'll handle it
Do my work,
Prepare everything
And try be positive.
I just need my headphones,
That's all I need
To block everyone out
And get things done.

Stay off my back?
All I ask for is two days.
Two days
Without extra pressure,


I found a poem I wrote about two years ago(?) and realized I hadn't posted it on here.
R Nov 6

I turn on the radio
"What do you like?"
Anything really,
"What do you like?"
I can't really explain
"What do you like?"
Things evoke feeling
"What do you like?"
My tastes are too plain,
"What do you like?"
Please leave me alone
"What do you like?"
I just want to listen
"What do you like?"
Whatever I want
"Do you listen to music?"
Not anymore.

I wanted to be something I was not,
Shedding myself like snake's skin,
I yearned to become,
Desperate, eager, aching.
Craving approval from eyes that weren't my own.

Until I realized...
That they were.

Never realizing that I--
Was good enough.


EmilyBatdorf Nov 1

I just want to go outside
The stretch between classes is just enough of a tease
wind blowing, leaves flying, the sun warming my face
And then walls.
Walls closing in, walls enclosing knowledge, some walls that are just walls
My seat can’t be by the windows, too many distractions.
Twitchy feet and a wandering mind
What am I to do?
Day after day, my routine is stuck
food, class, lift until I collapse, food again, and then turning,
Facing that monstrous pile of work breaking my desk
The sun shines, the leaves play
I can do work outside
lies and compromise
Chained to the desk as time ticks by
I just want to go outside

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