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Sarah Elizabeth Dec 2017
She sits on her bed wondering if she will ever get better.
Ever BE better.
She wonders if her choices and emotions are her fault
Or a product of something deeper.
She stares at herself in the mirror
and wonders
If her tired eyes were caused by the torrent of tears, or instead, if they were caused by life's tolls.
But,
What she doesn't know,
Is that the only person who sees her in this way
Is herself.
She
Is only the underdog
To herself.
I was reading through old journals I wrote for creative writing and this was one of them. The prompt for the journal was "The underdog..."
JD Harold Nov 2017
I'm going to miss this place,
with it's countless amount of forgettable faces.
I'm going to miss this home,
although for three years, I felt alone.
I'm going to miss this shelter,
but sometimes it made me feel like a cave dweller.
The time went by so fast and yet so slow.
I've got a lot of people to thank or hate so,
thanks to every person that made me feel like I meant something.
And to every person who made me feel like I meant nothing,
I hate you.

Childishly so.

I graduated.
I haven't grown up.
I wrote this a long time ago.
Gabriel burnS Nov 2017
cities with their
glass skin
iron bones
gray flesh
of concrete
and a soul of
light bulbs
silhouettes,
the skylines…
the giants that
swallow us whole
because
we didn't know
how to stop
the magic of
the beanstalk
and now
that we have raised
our titans to unite us
we gave them will
we gave them back
the gift of fire
and it returns
to **** the life in
to burn the bridges
throughout and within…
our Atlases...
are they home
the shelter, still,
or are they now
the labyrinth
and the Minotaur
Julian C Jaynes Nov 2017
I travelled down this wondering road
Certain of where I'd be
But the paths I chose along my way
Were ones I'd never foreseen.

I'd lost all my desire
I had forgotten passion
Something had doused the fire
I no longer had an obsession.

I spiraled deeper in this pit
And lost all self control
I had a drinking habit
And the drugs, I did them all.

I looked into the mirror
My face came into view
Suddenly things were clearer
I needed something new.

I made some changes in my life
And threw the drugs away
I started taking bigger strides
Towards the life I'd want someday.

Now things are so much better.
But it's not over yet
I still have a little ways to go
To reach the goals I've set.

It's definitely not perfect
The alcohol's still there
But it will be worth it
When I'm happy without a care.
There seems to be a pattern of me taking extremely long breaks between poems. I had a lot happen these two years, and I'm well on my way to becoming the person I want to be. I'm thankful to the people who didn't give up on me, and just thought I'd make a long - overdue post. I don't have a lot of readers, but I thank you for your time and appreciate all of you.
chloe fleming Oct 2017
My favorite time of day is the morning before the cigarette smoke laces through my hair. Theres something so pure and innocent about the morning and the sunshine and the smell of youth. I remember when lollipop sticks stuck out of mouth and my mother would yell that I would rot out my teeth. It's funny really, now the cigarettes hang out of my mouth like candy. Innocence is so pure the way it feeds through your body till some other drug is then the innocence is lost. And that's the beginning and the end to all our problems. We lost our innocence trying to **** the pain and when I say **** the pain I really mean **** ourselves. Because no body at 15 wants to down a bottle of pills just to make it through the day then at 16 drink more liquor than water then at 17 attempt to take your life because it might actually make you ******* feel something. I tried for so long to just ******* feel something like the way I felt heartache and pain and loneliness course through my veins. I tried to ignore it, black it out, I ******* tried. I think I love the mornings the most because the way the have so much potential but still seem to come to a ******* end. They know how to end. I am still learning.
aurora kastanias Oct 2017
As I travel through soft white vapours
Gazing beyond aboard flying vessels,
Wheels and wings provided unable
To navigate distant oceans beneath
I wonder, if only Leo could see.

If only he could see the lands from above
Checking though cartographies for accuracy,
See the different shades of water, sandy traces
Delineating margins, contemplate the jungles,
Deserts, mountain summits valley lakes.

If only he could see enveloping clouds,
Hear the roars of propulsion-hunting engines,
Feel his mass be pulled by gravity, his body
Grow heavy as speed increases, light at take-off
Weightless in cruising. Rise higher than birds

Prove there are no limits.

If only Leo could see the colossal planes
Suspend in air, wink at Mona Lisa and tell
Unbelieving acquaintances he was right,
It did not call for a genius to conceive,
Humanity’s talent and capability to fly.
On progress
Skylar Keith Oct 2017
What does it mean
to be better
First I smiled
then I sighed
Back then I asked myself
Does better feel like what I feel now?

Numb

The answer is no
I fell back into old ways
Wanting to get better
I had nothing to aim for
Still as clueless as before about what is meant

I look in the mirror
and laugh
Still clueless

Have I gotten better?
No
I've gotten worse

Now
I'm more clueless
Do I want to get better?

Good question
Sombro Oct 2017
Grey whistles spoke shrilly
Of wishes never seen
As I sought a hobby that ne'er
Grovelled to'r machine
I saw those moor harpies asleep in their crow
There was a sentence lying dormant in me

Without much more than history lessons
To go forth was a hefty sentence
Making conversation pieces
Of the rocks I met along the way
And I hoped that one day I might
Be there for the rise
And fall of 10p states

To sentence them to mutiny
Silly, shrilly and ne'er hopeful
But at least not airborne, at least rooted
In hobbies gainst the machine
What a terrible lot, indeed
What a lot of terrible days

Ah, well
At the running track I feel
The sentence dormant in me
Bolt upright, turning the grey
On its head, as harpies fall
Into the earth and the stars come down for me
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