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I am but thirteen years old and yet
I feel as though I am older

I write, I read, I play, I laugh
All things that a child of my age should

And yet somehow I feel as though
There is more inside that I need to let go
I read these poems, row by row
But these writers shall never know
That I have looked up to them since long ago

I am young, I am smart
Therefore there is not much I can change into art

I'm a teenager, I'm at school
So on this site I feel like a fool

Right now, I don't have much to say
But maybe I will some other day
So please wait for the moment that I say 'Hey!
Here's something I can write about that won't just fade away.'
Maggieburn Oct 8
We don’t get to be young,
We need to grow old,
We need to make choices
We need to go places,
and make sacrifices.

Life is not easy or constant,
Life is a path and not a contest,
Comparing yourself to everyone else
Is simple to do but bad for your health.

We don’t get to have fun,
We need to come undone,
We need to stop smiling, laughing and crying.

Life is a lie with one sole purpose,
Which has yet to rise to the surface
“You don’t get to be young,
you need to grow old”
This is what my mom believes,
But frankly this idea is meant to deceive.

If we don’t live now,
We could just say “ciao” to all our specialties,
And get drowned in legacies,
Without finding any remedies to our promised infancies.
My head's so heavy,
                                    it would tremble the ground
after a gracious swish
                                         of a guillotine.


Not a grass stills steady,
                                            not an ear stays uncovered
from the epidemic noise
                                             leaving my head.


Only god knows the loss,
                                             the caused damage
by my freeing thoughts
                                          escaping the unworldly world.


No one could count
                                    all that good I could bring
all that bad I absorbed
                                         while living.


Now, with my head low,
                                           my thoughts may find peace
on glorious gadgets
                                     far from my macabre mind.
29.09.2018
Amyrah Oct 4
I still feel your lips,
Pressing against mine.
It's slight pressure, erases the bad
Gives me hope to go through this night
Beautiful kisses
Holly Sep 24
The walls are bare
and impossible to break down.
No way in.
and no simple way out.
The windows are boarded shut,
with splintering wood.
The shredded shades are drawn,
to **** any possible hope
of even a sliver
of light.
A single bulb hangs from the ceiling,
long since burnt out.
The hard concrete floor
is cold beneath her bare feet.

A wooden chair
stands in the center of the room,
but she prefers to sit on the floor.
Thinking that maybe,
hopefully
if she curls up enough
she’ll no longer be there.
Then, she can simply vanish into thin air.
Is it bad that she thinks of such a thing?
Yes it is
she’s just thirteen.

They wonder why she feels this way,
her life is perfectly lined up
with every detail planned out
and every possible event accounted for.
The perfect life she is expected to live.
She will do well in school,
get A’s in all her classes,
get into a private high school.
Then she’ll go on to an Ivy league college.
How can she not be happy with her life?
Doesn’t it sound perfectly perfect?
What more could she want?

Maybe she just wants to be heard
but no one will listen
because all they can think is
what more could she want
than this life?
Maybe she wants to go to high school with her friends.
Maybe she wanted to go to that party yesterday,
but couldn’t because she was studying
because if she gets below a perfect score on the test
she won’t be the best
and that strays off the path of this life laid out for her.
Oh no no no now we can’t have that.

So maybe it would be easier to just sit in a room
with baren walls, closed windows, and concrete floors
where no one can get in.
A room that was never there until
she came along.
A room she built with her own two hands,
piece by piece,
bit by bit,
until she put the last nail in the last window,
making it impossible to get in,
but not impossible to get out.

She could just leave.
She could kick down the door.
She could unnail the boards.
She could be free.
She could escape.
She could finally burn down
this House of Hate.

But out there,
there are people,
there are people with expectations that want things done
the same people who are forcing her to be number one.
But she doesn’t want to be number one all the time.
She just wants to have fun,
to be free, to have a say
in how her life is layed out
because you think it’s a neat straight line
but she would prefer
it to be a scribble all over the page.

She just wants to have a say.
But no one will listen to her voice,
it is overpowered by too many people
saying no,
too many people
saying this is what you do.
But her voice is never heard,
so why keep wasting her breath?

Her room is never found,
and no knocking ever comes.
No one ever starts banging on the door.
No one screams at her to let them in.
No one comes to save her.
And she’s gotten used to life being this way.
So instead of wasting her tears,
on “friends” who don’t seem to care,
she just sits in this room
staring at the wall
hoping
wishing
praying
that there was
none of her
at all.
Empire Sep 23
I'm so successful
In their minds
I can function
I am bright
I smile
I laugh
I'm capable
I'm eloquent
I'm responsible
I have a good job
I'm quite skilled at it too
I've got impressive grades
I'm steps ahead in school
I'll have a high-paying career
I've got it all together
I've perfected "success"

but

I'm not happy
I want to cry
I want to rip my heart out of my chest
I desire to make myself weak
I don't want to care for myself
I don't have friends
I don't have support
I'm utterly alone
I'm suffering terribly
I can't keep my thoughts straight
I struggle to keep the darkness at bay
I'm in ruins

I guess that's success.
They used to call me "gifted"
Empire Sep 20
It’s right there!
I can see it, smell it, taste it
But I cannot indulge in it
No, that would be wrong!
Of course!
And I do no wrong...
That’s what they say, anyway
They don’t even know I crave it.
Every possible scenario
Every method
Every option
To keep it secret yet give in
Running over and over in my head.
I just need to try
Can I, please?
Sure, you look down upon it
But why can’t you just let me try?
I’m getting really desperate
The desire hurts
Because it just might
Even just barely
Release me from these chains
It might ease the pain
It’s nearly worth the risk
Elle Sep 19
i know you wanted diamonds
(maybe even gold)

but things aren't like that
and i'm not always in control

spent  the morning staring at the ceiling
things are different
and
it's on inside my head

i know you wanted
diamonds unto gold

but things aren't perfect
and you got the broken mold

do you feel the weight dripping
down across my skin

will
you throw me into the fire
pretend that it's a kiln?

but ill formed creatures
only crack and break

not
the glaze you wanted
to gild the golden lily
things are kind of complicated now mom. it's not your fault, it never has been.
Kathy Sep 18
I feel like a stranger in my own home.
An outsider.
The lodger that has outstayed their welcome.
When are these feelings going to fade?
As though the cycle of my youth has started again.
Pressure.
Pressure to get a proper job.
Pressure to find someone to settle down with.
Pressure to be someone I don’t want to be.
Pressure to live up to the same standards as everyone else.
Pressure to be independent. Not just independent in the sense as we know it but in the financial sense.
Pressure to be thin.
Pressure to be as thin as my mum.
How do I break away from those projections of frustration, of disappointment, of self-loathing?
Perdue Poems Sep 17
A path completed to a routine
It seemed there would be no blunder
I rode like before’s before
With great success
Until I slipped into the valley creek
Falling off the bridge
The day her eyes were watching
|
It was not my eyes that sank
But her’s that weighed heavy
Impressing the impressive on me
Eyes add weight I did not know
The weight of another soul
One is tough for me
Two’s another load
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