Silence weighs heavy
As it dances across my soul
Doing graceful pirouettes
As the darkness encroaches
Muted sounds of yesterday
Echo softly in the distance
Until naught but reverberations
Linger in faded memory
Like laughter that never was

darling,
i miss you more than anything.
please, come back.
you may not want to,
and i understand that.
but at least act like you still care.

Let me be your weakness
Let me be your biggest mistake
Let me be your sensitive nerve
Let me be your weakest bone
Let me be the one who hits you against the floor
Let me be the only one who wants you to die
Let me destroy you
Let me love you
But you just have to accept
That you're me

Feeling empty isn't new
I've been chasing this feeling many times
It drives me crazy
I can't stop counting time
I can't stop counting lies
I can't stop counting lines
I can't stop sighing
I wish you were mine
But it was a pleasure to not being with you
Because disappearing and not being noticed
Can make the difference
Why would I do something like that?
I missed you
I dismissed you
I hate this

I checked my coat pockets
but I can't seem to find
my motivation.
where did it go?
nothing but scraps and an imagination filled my drawers
I call for it
or I try to
my voice is a faint mist across the mountain tops
"motivation," my sigh escapes
"come back
I can't seem to find you
anywhere
and I
want to
stop looking."

It's funny
When someone changes you
And all your poems
Don't make you feel the same way anymore

But it's a sigh of relief
Your body feels light
Your heart is pounding
But you are calm
While you read all the old words
And can't feel their emotions

Your bones are empty
And your eyes are heavy
With tears that are only coming from
The deep place inside your body
That you haven't heard from in months
Months

Waiting was painful
Waiting so long for this to happen
But never imagined it would feel
Quite like this
You never dreamed
That you would be so happy

By Chloe Elizabeth

I remember it,
it was a warm Tuesday evening
and we were stumbling to the bus stop
that stood on the side
of the busy town centre street,
she was being herself,
telling me how terrible
I am
and how she hates every inch of me,
then she leaned in to kiss me;
this would happen nearly every day
but that warm Tuesday evening,
something clicked;
I took the anger I had felt for so long
and painted it on her body
with bruises
shades of purple,
yellows and blues;
she left me the next day
for a pretty boy she had met
a few days earlier;
we were never going to work;
she was crazy
and I was crazy for her;
that 'love' did not bring me joy
and hope,
it brought me suicidal thoughts
and hard liquor;
I still remember it,
the day I broke into a million
tiny little pieces;
I still find myself searching
for those pieces
and it kills me every time
I realise I can never get them back;
but I am trying
to re-build myself
with the little pieces
I managed to cling on to
in the shock of the fall

What is originality anymore?
The pop songs we listen to day in day out,
That are only updated remixes of
Songs that our parents
Already know every lyric to.


Is it the pranks we play on each other at school,
Poking holes in the top of water bottles,
So we don’t get caught when we try to catch our class mates.
Drowning them
In carbonated energy drinks.

Don’t think you’ll get away with it.
The teachers already know,
About flicking elastic bands at the backs of girls knees,
So they scream a little louder
And turn around to see
Boys smirking faces,
Because they have been there before.


Define originality.

Originality
. /əˌrɪdʒɪˈnalɪti/
noun
1. the ability to think independently and creatively.

•the quality of being novel or unusual


synonyms: inventiveness, creativeness, creativity, innovativeness, innovation, novelty, freshness, newness, imagination, break with tradition, resourcefulness, cleverness, daring, individuality, unusualness, unprecedentedness, uniqueness, distinctiveness
.

Is it smuggling ***** in water bottles,
Or sneaking down to the back garden
To have one last cigarette with your friends,
At 1am
On New Years
When you have had more to drink than your parents
Yet you are only 15.
Watering down whiskey from your parents liqueur cabinet
With apple juice.

Getting caught drunk
After being out with friends, Stumbling in at 2am
On Sunday morning.


Storming up to your room
After having a row with your parents.
Slamming the door,
Screaming at the floor,
Calling a friend,
And ******* about the people who brought you into this world.


Maybe
I’m not as good with words
Than I thought I was


O r i g i n a l i t y I s D e a d


Your parents Grandparents
Aunties and uncles
Have seen it all before
It’s a fact of growing up
And one day
You will too know
Exactly how it is