I never wanted it to be like this
She knows no bliss...
Because I can’t give it.
Slit your wrist or run away quick.
Somethings fucked in my head,
I’m missing a bit more
I can’t keep score
But I’ll keep your core
And fuck you sore
Not your body
But her ardor...

I can give you no reward my darling..
Just this cheap fervor
Alec Jan 11

I sit here, alone in my room
Contemplating the world,
And is my life gonna end soon?

Cause I know-
I know,
That there's something missing.
Something just out of reach,
Something that I can't keep.

They say,
"Out of sight,
Out of mind"
But I don't think that applies here!

Cause I know-
I know,
That there's something out there.
Just waiting for me,
Waiting to make me happy.

...
And I know
It's a stretch.
I'm a mess,
Inside.

I just need some hope.
Or else I might choke,
Underneath this constant pressure.
This tidal wave,
Pushing and pulling me under.

And I know-
I know,
This isn't the end.
And I'm sure that there's somethin'
Just 'round the bend.

But can I make it,
To the other side?
If I can't seem to get
Out of this life

...
Yeah I know-
I know,
That everyone's out there.
But it's hard to remember
That they still care.

...
I know that I'm di-fi-cult...
I know I can make people
Feel like they're useless!
I know all these things,
Cause in my head it rings...

DING DING DING!!!!
Game Start!
DING DING DING!!!!
Out hard.
DING DING DING!!!!
Don't try.
DING DING DING!!!!
You Died.

...
Do I put in another quarter?
Or do I just sit back in horror?
How many quarters is this gonna take?
I could play this game
For the rest of the damn...
Day.

...
Maybe it's better if I just,
Go away?
Maybe then I can,
Own to my mistakes?
Is that what it's
Gonna take?

I'm

Fake.

My friend was talking about how she draws her feelings, and it inspired me to write this.

Seven EIGHT poor six
Run away dear five

Seven eight (ate)six
Simpathi Jan 8

I’m not giving up,
I’m not giving in.
I put on a stunt,
Just to have Him win.

I may be down,
I may be injured.
Want another round,
Vengeance returned.

Won’t look away,
Won’t look behind.
Never will change,
To be captive by time.

Yes I’m imperfect,
Yes I have flaws.
But it’s never worth it,
To count all our wrongs.

I won’t run,
Refuse to cower.
Anticipating rejection,
Waiting for hours.

Yes there is risk,
Yes there is chance.
But grasp its brim,
Hold its hand.

And you will find,
It all will pay off.
You’ll meet your kind,
You’ll hear your song.

You’ll match your heart,
With another’s own diamond.
Never to break apart,
Only to shine on.

Sometimes you can't even trust yourself...
skyler Jan 4

i feel drained
i'm constantly thinking
like a run on sentence
i have no room to breathe

s.s

Deep Sangani Dec 2017

Let me narrate you A STORY
it began with a girl
watching an apple closely.
Watching how the caterpillar
crawled it way,
eating all day.
She cut the apple in front of his face,
and watched him run away
(W H Y D I D'NT  H E S T A Y?)
but there is a twist in the story-
the apple was her heart,
while the caterpillar was him- gone.
The story ended with a bloody knife,
lying next to her long LOST smile.

Was I not good enough?//
Ollie Dec 2017

I am thirteen, wearing Star Wars pajamas and soft socks with owls on them
A box on my nightstand shows a bobblehead from Harry Potter, either the protagonist or the man who slaughtered
Admittedly I’m a massive nerd
I know that word, I’ve had it yelled at me a lot
But I have the nerve to think to myself, “What doesn’t kill me better run”
And it better fucking run
It better run as if it were being chased by a beast it only finds in its nightmares and can’t even conjure in the waking realm
It better run because I can’t even remember my nightmares but they sure as hell run because I wake up in the morning
What doesn’t kill me better run because it didn’t kill me
It could’ve killed many others who were crammed beneath walls
Who were battling depression in another math class lesson having awful words and “faggot” slurs whispered in their ears when the teacher wasn’t looking
Or maybe the teacher was ignoring
But that didn’t kill me so it better run
When I was in 6th grade I developed this reputation that I was gonna take over the world
I only egged it on because I was nonchalant and because I knew it might actually convince some kids that I’d kill them if they messed with me later on in their lives
I hailed Hitler when I won most likely to take over the world for the yearbook
That game worked
It was just because I was scared
Yet they ran
I love to perform but I have this faceless anxiety I’ve described before
I wrote this poetry to be screamed on a stage
And maybe I’ll wear the ties I love when I do it
I’m not there yet
But I won a second place medal reciting someone else’s when I just found out the anxiety was a thing
I love the man who wrote it
I wanna be there
I wanna be able to scream while balancing on the top of my lungs as if they were a defined space I could watch the clouds move on
I want to scream “what doesn’t kill me better run!”
Like the circle of poetry that saved my life I’ll write some that’ll make somebody rethink the situation
What didn’t kill them already ran so what contemplated killing them is gonna run
Like they were thinking about taking the lion cub but saw the mother lion only a few feet away, watching them with a glare
I want my poetry to be the mother lion that protects the cub
I’m not a lioness but maybe this is lion-esque
We’ll find out when I perform something on stage
Or maybe I never will
That’s okay
I’ll keep posting it online
As long as they know it’s mine
And the monsters from the nightmares I can never remember see it
They’ll think, “what doesn’t kill that better run.”
It’s always been an illusion of strength I think I picked up from them
I think it was obvious when I hailed Hitler for the yearbook
Let’s be honest, I spend my days wanting to punch Nazis

I’ve been thinking a lot about that phrase. I see it in moodboards. We have “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”. It’s a good song, but it doesn’t make you stronger. It just means you lived and you’ll know how next time. The thing about that is if you know how next time, what tried to kill you better run.
Akash Mandal Dec 2017

A race in the sky
clouds running helter-skelter
forty miles per hour.

Kevin Hamilton Dec 2017

singing meadowlark
that never seems
to touch the ground
           understand
i was searching endlessly
for the fire escape
i never found

i was hardly reaching
when i said you loved me
on your behalf
i was hardly dreaming
of a sweeter day
still yet to pass

piano in the dark
mystic chord
i froze and woke in tandem
with the underscore

ENR Dec 2017

Hills rolling gently.
An ocean of grass
blades waving gently,
beckoning the child
closer,
closer,
close.

From there they could hardly see the colors.
The browns and blacks of the charred landscape.
The matted patches where everything was disintegrated.
From there they could hardly see the house.
They could hardly remember that fearlessness they felt,
running,
so far,
so fast,
so much.

Staring wistfully,  
That tight feeling
In my chest
That was everything.

The way your lashes fell upon your cheeks,
Unable to hold the pain back.
I remember that day clearer than anything.
That day when you ran from me,
so far,
so fast,
so much.

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