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Cindy 14m
It's like the egg shells
have voices.
They quietly yell at me
whenever I try and make
sense of their shape.

I can't question anything.
If I do, he gets a sharp tone,
and begins to
frantically wave a knife at me.
Reminding me that I have issues.
Pointing out that
I like to cause issues.

I'm scared.

Frightened of the
unknown
of what's known
and of the knife and the man
behind it.
He makes me
go silent.
He yells,
stop panicking!
you're always making
issues!
Stop questioning why I carry a knife!

I hate myself
because I've made him
carry a knife...
and I'm always the reason why he's waving it around.
the question of what I'm afraid of haunts me....
I will sometimes say the darkness, trying to play it off cool.
or maybe it's deep water, and what lays beneath the muggy depths.
I sometimes think it's fire, how powerful it could be, how quickly it could destroy everything just as you turn away.
I could always say it's weather, how the wind howls so creepily
the way the thunder shakes the earth.
there's a million different things I could say.
but truly if you want to know what keeps me up at night.
it's you....
I'll lay in bed and think about how one day you'll me gone.
how no matter how much I love you, it could never be enough.
I know I'm not the prettiest.
my hair maybe too brown.
I don't have a body like hers.
So I guess there's the truth.
I'm scared of losing you.
It will always be you....
Julie Mar 16
The only thing I am seeking in life
is the strength to overcome
each one of my fears.
Not to be scared.

But how can I,
when there is a knife
waiting for me
behind every corner?

It all started in my hometown,
laughing on a playground.
No one warned me about the older kids—
the ones who make your eyes cry,
destroy your toys,
and create your first fears.

Fear of losing, of being alone,
of failure, of being too much.

But the biggest of all,
is also the funniest of all,
and the saddest—
it is the allowing yourself to feel scared.
Reece Mar 14
A tree sits in the middle of a forest,
Hydrophobic,
It fears the rain.
Its bark is coarse,
Its roots withered,
It has no leaves,
And its branches point down,
Toward the ground.

The tree does this by choice,
For it’s afraid of change,
And if not changing is the one thing it can control,
It’ll hold it to the end.
When the rain pours,
The tree refuses the water,
Spits it toward its fellow trees,
Whose leaves dance in the windy breeze.
They always saw the little tree as strange.
Why did it willingly starve itself?
What did it gain?
It always looked so sad,
All alone,
Yet this was the life that it chose.

As the little tree grew older,
It watched as its fellow trees grew tall,
And oh, so green.
Their changing leaves,
Their branches and berries,
That the birds would love to eat.
How it envied,
Oh, it envied.
It uprooted itself,
As its dying roots clung to life,
It walked all on its own,
To find another home.

It started to wonder if the rain was worthy of his fear,
Or if it was overthinking–again.
Was the future a mountain or a molehill?
Only time will tell.
How the little tree wished it could control every detail,
Save itself from suspense,
Always knowing what comes next.
Unfortunately,
Life doesn’t work that way,
A lesson the tree would have to learn,
And accept,
To find brighter days.

The tree planted itself in a garden,
Filled with flowers,
Of many hues,
Reds,
Greens,
Yellows,
And blues.
Even though the nearby birds,
Would chirp and coo,
It did little,
To ease the little tree’s
Lonely blues.
Yet as it gazed,
Amidst the pretty colors,
Of the flowers,
He thought of the fellow trees.
He wondered,
If this was the way life was meant to be.
After all,
These flowers would die come winter,
And grow again come spring,
And they would be just a goregous,
And marvelous,
The second time around.
Eureka!
Purpose and acceptance,
Finally found.

The little tree looked to the sky,
A thunderstorm was on its way.
He could hear the crackle of the lightning,
As a house was set unto a blaze.
The tree tightened down his roots,
He wouldn’t be afraid.
Perhaps if he believed,
He would be okay.
After all,
The other trees thrived off the rain,
It caused their leaves to grow,
And eased their decay.
Perhaps,
He was running from the wrong thing.
Perhaps,
His biggest villain wasn’t change.
Perhaps,
Life would be okay.

The rain came like a hurricane,
And the tree absorbed the water,
Having starved and thirsted for so long,
And as the sky cleared to the sunshine,
He heard the bird’s sweet songs.
His leaves grew majestically,
The berries tasted so sweet,
The birds who ate them,
Devoured even the seeds.
The tree felt fulfilled,
He had found his place,
And though he still feared the future,
And change,
He believed everything would be okay.
Going back to my normal style for this one. 16 years old. Wow, it's hard to believe. This poem highlights how I feel about the world about most things. If it isn't obvious, the tree is me. I'm anxious about most things, constantly fearing I'll fail. Driving is the worst though, too much power in my shaking hands. Hope you guys like this one!!
Raven Mar 12
I love you
Is a monster
That I'm scared of
But am trying to face

I love you
Is a monster
With the ability to tear me apart
Until I'm nothing but an atom
Or quantumly gone

I love you
Is the monster
That stands in my way
Whenever I allow myself to feel the words
That I say

Its massive
Covered in flames
Thorns
Blades
Horns

Its leering
And its sticky
With all sorts of things that can hurt
And break
And shatter
And maul
Me into nothing
Stuck all over it

It overshadows
My entire being
And it roars into my ears
Until I can hear nothing less
And nothing more

I stare at the monster
And I want to run
To flee
To curl up in a ball
And be
Invisible

But underneath everything that makes
I love you
A monster
Is a beautiful creature

I love you is a monster
But only because of what it's covered in

I love you is a monster
But only because of whats stuck to it

I love you is a monster
But only because of how the monster hurts

The monster is burning
And covered in tar
And its got thorns
And blades
Stabbing into it
So it roars on pain

But because I'm afraid
I love you is just a momster
Not a hurt creature

I see that now though
And I'm trying to get close

Close enough to put out the fire
And wash off the tar
And take out the thorns
And the blades

Close enough to uncover the fluffy fur
And wrap its wounds in bandages
Care for the burns
And all of the damage

Close enough for it to show me
Its beauty
And enshroud me completely
Giving me warmth
Instead of trying to pass on the burning flames

Close enough for it to show me
Its beauty
And enshroud me completely
Giving me gentle
Instead of stabbing and harsh

But I'm sorry
Because I'm scared
So I love you
Is
Just
A
Monster
Mar/12/2025
poor little bunny boy
locked inside your cage
didnt you hear
theres nothing to fear
your death will be staged
this sticky gross flesh will stay on your bones
nobody to love you
your ears trapped in cones
sweet little bunny boy
all alone in this cruel world
everyone is leaving
you have no time for grieving
your soft hair turning frizzy and curled.
dumb little bunny boy
you thought they would stay?
we did too
they all lied to you
youre still the one to pay.
my little bunny boy
stuck in your skin
your small broken voice
lost in the din
my baby bunny boy
everyone is gone
all alone
you stay at home
no one notices youve left
maybe
its
b
e
t
t
e
r
this way.
i hate this body. i hate my mind. why is everything going wrong
im so so tired.
Gideon Mar 8
Why do I growl when I'm upset?
Grrr I want to hold you
Grrr I need your touch
Grrr please help me
Maybe I growl because the only part of me that is allowed to feel pain is the Beast.
Maybe the Beast lurks behind my tongue,
wanting to scream, but only able to scare.
I pity this Beast. It does not bite, and it cannot bark.
Its sole connection to the world is a defensive, angry, growl.
Gideon Mar 8
I am not a violent dog.
I know not why I bite.
Fear is not an emotion.
I do not feel fear in my head.
Fear lies in my gut.
As my shoulders tense,
and the hair on the back
of my neck is raised,
I feel fear.
Gideon Mar 7
Loud head. Silent mouth.
Loud thoughts. Empty words.
Loud pain.
Screaming, deafening pain.
Numbness.
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