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Caitlin 1d
They say the silence is awkward
when it consumes an entire room.
But the thoughts are almost palpable.
I'm surprised no one has noticed sooner.
Thoughts of inequity.
Fear of rejection.
A concious sedation of self loathing and envy.
Faces running on auto pilot
in the few moments before everyone reaches for their phone
to drown out the quiet.
You can hear the girls comparing thighs
and hair
and dresses
because although we know the media is a generous artist
of flaws for the human form
we still worry that they are right about us.
Guys watching every twitch of lips
and fingertips
half of the room wants to scream
while the other half wants to run
but everyone is confused as to why.
Awkward silence is preferable, though,
to deadened conversation.
The ones where we mention the economy
or the war
or the friend that died last week
and no one knows if it was really an accidental suicide.
Where we paint a picture of bleak servitude
and lament our meager lots
So we stay quiet
except for the dinging of phones
until its time to go home
so that we can study for school
and get a degree that we think we have to have.
If only someone would question
just how much pieces of paper
dictate our lives
Concert tickets.
But no.
We all just linger
in the Awkward Silence.
sindy 2d
Oh yes sure, but as friend then?
- Why would you say that?

- Remember talking about respect when you wanted to fight?

This is also to me the only thing that makes me angry and want to fight. As you, I have a high respect of myself and don't like to feel ignore, disrespected. It might be a big word just to explain that i don't appreciate when someone read my messages and decide not to reply.

Listen, it's not against you, i understand, you are busy, I might not be your priority. But i learn over the past year not to let anyone taking the chance to be able to hurt me. You might not be the kind of guys who like texting fine, then you should have tell me (same way as you asked me why i left and i replied).

It was really nice meeting you, i would love to see you again but not without disrespecting myself. That's a lot of feeling, but after what i saw in you, I am sure you will understand. I am free tomorrow, if you understand that we can meet. If not i want to tell you that i also feel this connexion and wish you a beautiful week.

Self respect is a high value i want to keep. I am mature enough and have been hurt enough not to let anyone getting this power over me.

Some people talk to you in their free time and some free their time to talk to you, i am learning the difference and i am looking to let people in my life only with the second option.

If you are able to rise you standard to meet girls like me.
Matthew 5d
The word t
                  u mbling fro
                                      m my mouth.
A Bold Statement
They stop...
A blood red lie, I kept in my pocket
Their body turning towards the fresh noise
Revealing, laughter
Their expression a stern nod of disapproval,
and a shove aside
I am now a clown,
a mockery
I repeated
those stale claims made in contempt

My tears
Sweet chocolate

Their laughter
joined by mine
The words being
I am ***

This poem is about how I was always called "***" because of my mannerisms and uninterest in women.  When I came out, it was a joke because I always denied it was "the secret I kept in my pocket".  Even though they don't accept me, it doesn't matter.  All their power is taken when you laugh with them.
Anthea 5d
And like the rare blood moon
Shining rouge hues against my skin
He saw me
But I was too afraid to ask how I looked
For 2 years and 2 months
My tears are falling
When his voice carries through my room
It's palpable
Struck with the realization
That like the blood moon
Even he could see a woman like me every once in a while
Struck with the pain of knowing
In a different reality
We may have been lovers
And in this one
We'll always be a night sky apart
Xallan 5d
Life is suffering, from the tip of my tongue!
From the tongue to the corneas, blinded
To the shoulder, flimsy; to the hips, stretched
To the wrist, bent; to the spine, twisted.
Where does it hurt? Use your
locator beam, Use the satellite, Use the laser
Point to where it hurts, they say, so you point to
your elbow, to your head, to your stomach:
But this, this is deeper, internal, pervasive
it is not imaginary at all, either.
No: no: no more sauce
Rejection after rejection of enjoyment, til
lastly we reject life- but no one ever enjoyed
living this way any way.
i jumped anyway
because without you
i thought
perhaps i would fly
smc Feb 11
Text--sent 11.14.14 @ 1:22 pm:
You asked me what I miss. I've debated about whether to tell you this or keep it to myself and try to move forward. I've decided to just be completely honest with you. Here's my answer:
I still love you, [K]. I really, truly fell in love with you. I know we weren't together long--it happened fast, but it was real. I have tried to move on, but you're still in my head. I miss the sound of your voice, your cooking, the horses, the way our hands actually fit together. Most of all, though, I miss the way I felt when I was with you. I found a connection with you that is unlike anything I have ever known. I thought that I had been in love before but nothing comes close to the way I felt, and still feel, about you.
I actually hoped that, after seeing you last week, we could give this another try.  
It's become clear, though, that you have moved on. Sometimes the very thing we want more than anything is just not meant to be. It hurts like **** and if I had one wish, I'd wish that you could love me like I love you.
I wish you nothing but happiness, peace, and love. I hope that someday you find yourself at the ocean again. That is, after all, where you thrive.
Take care of yourself, [K], and please send my love to the dogs and the horses. I miss you all.
this is what love looks like, in the aftermath of one last hope to start again. i never received a response to that text.
it took a long time, but gradually, i let go of him.
i chose to stop ruminating and foolishly hoping. i took My power back.
i crafted a barn wood shadow box, placed him inside, ****** in a jagged breath, and buried him.
Matthew Feb 7
I guess I love the way
you listen with your lips

I guess I love the way
we live inside our dreams

You take away the tears
With one insignificant laugh

One look at us
in the lazy afternoon hue
I know why I'm with you

Why am I so hesitant to accept your lips and laugh?
To run away in your eyes
full of sunlight

Because my pupils never grow
You might be blinded by the light.
Because I see storm clouds
It is raining,
drops of
my blue
Something just A thought.
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