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AditiBoo Jun 16
I will not let another pen
Script the dialogues of my life
Muse me into its version of Mary Magdalene
Turn me into my biography's silent wife

So let it be said
Black on white
Rumours are not to be fed
Gossip will be rooted before its flight

Take your actions, make your bed
And sleep with whomever you want in it
Live by the rulebook you have written and  read
None will breach this intimacy to headline it

In times of solace, you stand alone
Comfort comes from your sense of self
So many unattended messages on your phone
When you decide to prioritise your mental health

They say stories are forgotten in time
But those are also the birthplace of legends
Say enough catchy verses that slyly rhyme
Create an ageless story from fraudulent confessions

Slowly, surely, steadily
The story is shared far and wide
Bored ears latch on hungrily
Passing it on with twitchy lips now preoccupied

Like an ill-fated game of telephone
Corrupt facts easily replaced by others
Listeners adorn themselves as judges and condone
Forgetting that fiction disguises the reality of another

Laptop screens populate with invasions of privacy
As public debates forget to respect any sense of secrecy
But let the story make you its main character
And feel how suddenly your own life becomes a disaster
collette Jul 2018
They are afraid of the truth,
honest words forced to hide behind their roots,
Then crush it with the giant's big foot.

  - why are you so afraid of telling everyone about what you've done?
redberries Apr 2018
People never listen anymore
With ears
They seek out the one who loves to spread words

People never care anymore
With ears
They thought have understood the story from the narrator

Infact they were the sidekicks
The insignificant petty villagers

While they could have asked the characters themselves
Paint the picture themselves
They don't care anymore
To put the effort in
They would rather just hear it from somewhere
Then pretend they learnt everything there is to learn about the story

Fact is
It wasn't your story to care for at the first place
It's not caring it's plain boredom and hopes to be the holy judge of 'none of their business'
Care is not like that

When will the peasants see
The truth
the truth that lies
lies between the teller and facts
the teller and players
Listen with your heart and not your ears
Benji James Apr 2018
It seems I've been travelling around
Through the word of mouth
Look at the way they speculate
Whether I'm *** or straight
Some say that I am autistic
Used to be so optimistic
That we could unite and harmonise
But it seems we are too busy
Pointing out each other's flaws
And fighting needless wars

When did I become
The headline of everyone's day?
Why do I seem to be the topic
In the stories, they spread
It seems I'm the centre focus
Once again
I'm starting to question
Will this ever end?

What will they think of next?
What do I think of Bec and her new boyfriend?
It seems like everybody's
Watching every step I take
And hanging off of every word I say
And maybe I'm a little crazy
But could you really blame me?
They think I'm an attention seeker baby

When did I become
The headline of everyone's day?
Why do I seem to be the topic
In the stories, they spread
It seems I'm the centre focus
Once again
I'm starting to question
Will this ever end?

It seems to me
That I seem to be
The talk of the town
And all the rumours
Are circulating around
Everyone's questioning me
And my sexuality
Who I'm with, what I am
What I feel, what he writes,
Is it real?

When did I become
The headline of everyone's day?
Why do I seem to be the topic
In the stories, they spread
It seems I'm the centre focus
Once again
I'm starting to question
Will this ever end?

©2018 Written By Benji James
Natalie Apr 2018
walk a mile in my shoes
maybe then you'd understand

i'm not hating
i'm just telling you
you don't know what i've been thru

two feet in the brown dirt
school skirt
crazy lies

no friends took years to mate
but i finally overcame

people got a lot to say
but don't know nothing about
where i was made

or how many nights i stayed up crying
just to make it past my mind dying

no friends
clueless family

bad boyfriends
dead grammy

i've been up all night
trying to fix my life
i've been work
workin' on my life

this dream is all that i need cause it's all i've ever had
inspired by iggy's work
Nyx Mar 2018

A girl that I know is brighter then the rest
She has golden highlights dyed into her hair
She's got pale blue eyes that reflect the world
And she's got a gorgeous smile that makes her glow

The girl that I know is quite small
She's around 5'3 which is like nothing at all
She likes to state that This way im closer to hell
But I laugh it off and it's all quite swell

The girl that I know is fairly easy going
She's quiet and sweet and somehow outgoing
She sarcastic, witty and a bit of a flirt
But in all honesty she is secretly hurt

She's got a few boys that she strings along for fun
But that's all platonic to all except one
It was her little secret, at least for awhile
Until her best friend told everyone within a mile

In a split instant the whole country knew
People knew her business and her reputation grew
People began to think that she was surely a ****
But you dont know her at all so keep your mouth shut

Her best friends a hypocrite and we all knew that well
Without realizing it, she had made her life hell
Telling her boyfriend everything is good and all
But there comes a certain point where there is a line to draw

This girl that I knew had no more secrets, none at all
As she told me this, her tears fell like a waterfall
how ******* dare she!
she's your best friend I exclaim
How could she do this, Has she no shame

The girl that I know isint like the stories
She's overreacts about little things and gets quite worried
she's bright, brave and fairly clever
She's a black belt, a sensei, she's so much better
She complains about her three buttons while everyone else has four  
And she talks about her life and about the simple things she adores
So how is it that people still call her a *****?

We go to the gym and then eat pizza instead
We watch barbie movies and fall asleep in her bed
We talk about life on an old rooftop
While eating buckets of ice cream till we have to stop

I know the girl better then she knows herself
I know the stories better then anyone else
I know the scars hidden deep within her eyes
And I know and have seen the tears that she has cried

So how can the world be so cruel?
When all that's she's done is just gone to school
She talked and became friends with some guys
So how can people create such lies?

All people think its their right to judge
But what right does it give you to hold such a grudge?
You say its just a joke everyone spread rumors
Let's me hear you say it again, when its your turn as the loser
So tell me then, is that to your humor?     .
Poetic T Feb 2018
Rumours fly like dead carcasses,
             infecting those who they land upon.

But no one realizes that they were bitten, corrupted
             burrowing beneath conscious thought.

Seeding the larvae of what would seed within
            the canals of corrupted reflections.

Never realising that every thought was laid
            well before they knew and hatched diseased.
aurora kastanias Nov 2017
They run down corridors, penetrate
Eardrums, tympanic membranes vibrating
Sounds of whispered ignorantia, injected
In minds, spewed out of unclosing mouths.

Actively engaged in spreading the word,
As meticulous news reporters committed
To divulge, unfounded information, undercover
Agents passing off as martyrs compelled,

To fulfil their duties pretending
To reluctantly execute a social service, yet,
No one knows whether the lady down
The street truly cheated, nor if her daughter

Also slept with the alleged lover, while
The audience is convinced and has convicted
The adultery of the first sentencing the second,
To shame and long-lasting denigrating fame.

The punishment assigned to the free walking
Defendants, found guilty by a jury of their peers,
A public court rising to judge an offence
Sickly existing merely in those insinuating

Voices, inundating the tribunal corridors
Of the neighbourhood, the city, the world,
Tv and the web. Leaving the only words
That count engraved in marble, epitaph

On the tombstone of a suicidal man,

‘In loving memory of Mallory Dupe.
Beloved husband of Helen and loving
Father to Giselle. Shamelessly killed
By rumours. No redemption granted.’
On gossip and rumours
Zee Sep 2017
Oh how frightening it is
the way  you cold heartedly lie
to my face.
to their face.
Oh how it boggles my mind
how you try to save face
and spit lies about me oh so freely.
Honey, you can lie to them
but how will you lie to yourself
honey, I'm called easy,
but what about your complicated mind.
Thats the word that comes to mind
when i think of you.
Is how you describe me to feel okay with you
Lies. Lies. Lies
Oh how frightening it is,
the way  you cold heartedly
lie to yourself.
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