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Janna Smith Feb 2018
A week ago, you became part of the statistics called "The number of suicides of children and young adults in Slovakia". Girls aged between 0-19 years have always been the smallest part since 2011, and it happened anyway. And now I am reading your most favorite author and I can’t understand anything. You and those poems. And you aren't here in order to explain it to me, so I'm just reading and losing myself in a text that I still have maybe a chance to understand, unlike you.

I miss you, sweet dreams.
If you are interested how it looks in my mother language:

Už je to chvíľa čo si sa stala súčasťou štatistiky s názvom “Počet samovrážd detí a mladých na Slovensku”. Dievčatá ktorých vek bol medzi 0-19 rokov mali od roku 2011 vždy najmenšie číslo a aj napriek tomu sa to stalo. A ja teraz čítam tvojho asi najobľúbenejšieho autora a ničomu nechápem. Tebe, ani tým básniam. A ty tu nie si, aby si mi to vysvetlila a tak *** čítam a strácam sa v texte, ktorému mám ešte hádam šancu, na rozdiel od teba, porozumieť.

Chýbaš mi, spi sladko.
allie May 2017
It happened to me.

That is me now.
I scream and I cry
Into the depths of my pillow.

I had not been wearing something that showed me.
I screamed and thrashed.
I am now a


Help me.
Rid me of the memories
That play across my eyelids
Whenever my eyes close.

I regret every second
Of that tortured night.
And just when I thought it stopped
and the pain was gone
The real pain
Hadn't even started.
I've been wanting to post this for a while, so here it is. And if you ask, no. I am not going to expand on this topic. This is my first and last poem on this subject.
"My daughter,
when you grow up (enough)
to be able to brandish self-sovereignty
tempered by self-discipline
I only hope that if and when you may choose
to try whatever drugs may appeal to you
you are least fortunate enough
to have access to clean ones
and a safe enough and comfortable enough environment
in which to study your interrelationship with them,
intellectually, physiologically, psychologically, spiritually, and socially,
but not necessarily in that order.

I won't tell you what to do,
but my advice is this:

Don't eat yellow snow:
don't snort yellow coke.

If you're gonna poison yourself,
poison yourself with the good ****.

If you want to see whats up with something,
be certain your sample size is representative.
That's just good Science.
No one likes a false statistic
except those in power
who wish to remain in power
so maintain thy power
to wield thy freedom of choice
armed with an arsenal of personal experiences
sailing with an armada of accurate information
upon the high seas of this uncertain but certainly beautiful Life,
but be prepared to accept the consequences.

That's just responsibility.

That alone oughtta put you well ahead of the curve."
Fictitious, but that doesn't warrant dismissal, I think.
Kagey Sage Oct 2015
Anyway, it'd be cheaper if products didn't advertise
But, instead, they waste all that good money
to cloud our vision and stuff our ears
Just to inform in the Information Age, you think
But, really, it's to mold
Look at the Billions spent on psychologists
Don't be confused
Trupoetry May 2015
You're probably reading this from the same place I'm writing it
behind a desk
outside the box
trapped in a corporation
free in my thoughts

You're probably reading this for the same reason I'm writing it
because words matter
because it doesn't matter
the way everything matters

You're probably sick of reading
yet we are hardly anything more than what can be proven
we're probably
the invention before probability

The loving  likelihoods of life
like crawling before walking
like falling when learning to walk
like walking into runs

The statistics of confusion
divided for the mystical equation
of adding all things make believe
subtracting all things real
and solving you for yourself
Ignatius Hosiana Apr 2015
Many times, we love, we are loved, we hate
and we are hated and yet we can never find
quantum proof for how much we feel what we
feel, It's left to habitual action, like It's
assumed we hug, kiss or smile as proof of love,
yet even haters can do the same since we live
in a universe where many smile with their
teeth rather than heart.
I believe a scientist somewhere's trying to
discover a way of bringing about statistical
Even emotical pendulums, clockwise towards
happiness and Anti-clockwise towards
Melancholy have an imaginary measure hence
cannot be traced.
By and large, I think trying to quantify feelings
is a holy Grail hunt, it doesn't matter how
much, It's enough knowing you are loved or
hated, you are desired or repelled. As long as
you know, quantity doesn't matter, life is all
about the moments, not how long those
moments resonate before their wave taking a
different existence. Life is not about how many
breaths you take, but the moments that take
your breath away. It's a Game where the Goals
you score don't matter, what matters is you
play your role right.
Noah Apr 2015
When I am in statistics I cannot focus
because the world around me is ending in my mind
slowly fading into something without meaning
until I cannot breathe and I have to leave
to go cry in the bathroom.

When I am in my statistics class I cannot focus
because there is a boy there who looks like my favorite **** star
I know what his ***** looks like
     or might look like
     Schrödinger's **** in a box.

I cannot help but stare at him and
picture him in gym shorts and no boxers
or cargo pants and no boxers
or just in boxers

It's an uncomfortable feeling of morbid intrigue that
makes me tap my toes too fast.

I want to know him.

I want to tell him that
I love the way he smiles
and laughs and communicate s
and makes sure everyone is safe and happy.

I can only watch **** that has behind-the-scenes features.
It's comforting to know that
everyone is happy and
everything is consensual and
everyone is having fun.
I get too invested in these people, too attached -

One time I had to give up
and take a moment to breath
because I was just so overwhelmed with pride
Like a parent watching their kid graduate after all their hard work.

And that feeling is not okay.

And seeing that boy in my class is not okay,

Because I feel so proud of all he's accomplished
So when he answers a question right in class all I can think about is
When he ****** a **** on camera for the first time
And the first time he licked whipped cream off another man's *******
And it's very distracting.

When I am in statistics I cannot focus
because I start to worry that I will fail this class
and then I start to worry that I will hate my future
and then I worry about having a future in the first place,
bunching up into an unfocused, panicking, asthmatic mess.

The **** star boy is a distraction.

It's because of him that I'm passing this class.

( and in a way, a stupid, silly way,
it's because of him that I'm alive. )
Estimate tells us the avg. height
of a female in the U.S. is 64 inches.
This is quantitative. Unfeeling of prospect,
the numbers fascinate and baffle.

Recent estimation supposes
1500 active volcanoes on the earth of which
500 have erupted since history,
the invention of writing.

                                                       ­                Such a short time ago.

Measuring in quantities, the earth is
4.5-4.6 billion years old.
Creatures of like sentience who never wrote about
volcanoes, the age of their earth.

Quantities hum of something borrowed.
So tight-wound, so deeply close, and yet still.

                                                         ­               Something not ours.
                                                                        Blind, free of invention.
WickedHope Dec 2014
I once heard someone say
That they both tried to **** themselves
But Juliet Failed the first time
(Even though she technically just
Wanted to appear dead)
But statistically girls are more likely to
Try to **** themselves
And if you count that first time
She tried twice
And Romeo died the one and only time
Which makes sense because

Though girls are more likely to try
Guys are more likely to actually die
- - -
Anyone else hate me? Because I used to feel hated.
Now I feel invisible, and not in the good way.
Tark Wain Oct 2014
Statistics say
I am smarter than 95% of the people I meet
People say
Intelligence is overrated
Statistics say
I was born into a better situation than 98% of the people I meet
People say
It's not where you start it's where you finish
Statistics say
I will live longer than 94% of the people I meet
People say
Life is fragile
Statistics say
I won't fail
People say
I might
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