Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mica Kluge May 2018
See her? With the impeccable taste in fashion?
She's top of her class in calculus. You probably didn't know that.
See him? With the fearless glint in his eye?
He's studying science, but he has the soul of a poet. Tests lie.
See her? Buried behind a stack of books nine tall and three deep?
She's terrified that she'll get a B, because, to her, that's failing.
See him? Museum-quality doodles and red ink decorate his papers.
He'll be president one day, if he can find something that he loves.
See me? No, actually you probably don't see me. Why would you?
I've managed to dangle from the rim of the outskirts of life so far.
Someone once told me that seeing gifts is a gift itself. Maybe it's true.
But, didn't they ever tell you that geniuses doubt themselves, too?
That we doubt ourselves most of all?
Your story is just as important as the ones all around you.
zb May 2018
broken earbuds and
torn-up hightops and
dented dreams of a better life,
i long to find myself
in the words i write and the images i see
in the dark, in the moment
before i lose myself to sleep

my blurry eyes
find the outline of the stars, shining
and bright even as I
fight to stay awake.

what will i dream tonight?
zb Apr 2018
someday
you and me
we'll sit together
and i'll draw
galaxies
in the constellations
of your freckles

someday
you and me
we'll sit together
exhanging whispered words
and hushed laughs and earbuds
and history notes

i hate history class
but i love you
six hundred and one
Wellspring Nov 2017
I am studying.
I am dying from exams.
I should get some sleep.
Don's you just love exams? I don't. I hate it.
helena alexis Sep 2017
i bring my notebook
into the coffee shop
writing down my
thoughts for the day

sipping on a frappe
i let my pen lead the way
writing and writing
about anything and everything

sitting in a coffee shop
with various voices
alternative music
all around me

meeting new people
focusing on my thoughts
letting the coffee fill my veins
sitting in a coffee shop as im writing this right now
Eefs Jungmann Feb 2017
With your hand in mine, I feel safe
With your arms around me, I feel warm
With your look at me, I feel strong
With your finger's caress, I feel fragile
With your kiss, I feel wanted

With your everything, I feel me
Without you, I feel **worthless
Hey everybody, deepest apologies for being so behind. Mad to think it's been two years since my last post but hopefully this is worth it. Hoping 2017 is better than 2016, to say the least unless your 2016 rocked. As always, feel free to message, give feedback etc or whatever you see fit-
E x
Sam Oct 2016
I try, I can't
Everything is heavy all around.
I'm getting lost.
I fall, I stumble
I continue on, like nothing is wrong.
I'm losing.
I stop, I stare
I can't, Not anymore.
I lost.
I was told freshman year, that if I kept working as hard as I did, then I would eventually burn out. I didn't believe the teacher. Well, today, I've hit my point. Right now, I honestly could care less. I regret my decision to not follow what I was told.
Advice to anyone reading: Have balance in your life, I was told to do so, I did not listen. Save yourself while you still have the chance, otherwise before you know it,  it will all feels like nothing.
I just want to sleep....
Mariel Ramirez Oct 2016
it may not look like it, but i am trying very hard.
you think i’m bad because i’m late to class even though
you don’t know why. look at my essays like you know
what grade they’re going to get, when you haven’t even
read them yet. you think because my quiz scores aren’t
perfect that i don’t understand.

but people have different capabilities;
maybe i’m not where i’m supposed to be,
and i need you to stop judging me for that.
all people ever see is how it looks like;
you’re never going to understand if you don’t try.

i haven’t slept right since school started, trying to solve
math problems which don’t seem to make sense. i read
the textbook before i was asked; did every single thing i
was supposed to. it’s crazy. it meant waking up at dawn
after sleeping at two in the morning.

you don’t know how it feels when your best is never
enough, and you have no idea how hard it is to keep
doing that, to keep trying anyway.
you don’t know how often we break.
i have learned to count myself strong, not because i win my
battles, but just because i face them.

we learn to compromise, sacrifice. i don’t have poems
in my head anymore (it’s a mess in there), and i don’t
have the energy to play sports. i don’t see my friends
except in the corridors, all in a rush to get somewhere.

we get no credit, and all the shame. our stories don’t
get told; they’re not the ones where people clap at the
end. we are neglected, felt sorry for, or hated. we are
spectacular at failing to amaze.

we have learned to cheer for ourselves because no one
else will. learned to act like it’s not a problem, that
coffee is your best friend, and you spend nights
studying, just to get lower scores than the rest of them.

tell yourself you’re not tired even when the minute you
start to rest you feel like you’re collapsing. always feel
like crying but you stop yourself; who cares if you’re
exhausted? you still have to finish those papers; you still
have to answer those tests.

what does any of it mean? why am i graded with a C or
a D? are they telling me i will not lead a good life, that i
am doomed already? my story has not started and no, my
fate will not be decided like this. you cannot pass
judgments on my character based on numbers on a paper.

i am more than all these requirements that never end. i
am the work i put into them. so instead of looking down on
me, let us carry ourselves with some dignity. after all, it’s not
a game; it’s not a race. we’re all stuck in the same place. and
the world is tough for everyone, regardless of our “grades.”
kailasha Mar 2016
i am the poem and the poetess,
with irregular rhyme patterns and
dreams in clouds brewed from midnight coffee.

i am a prose neatly typed out,
handed in ten minutes after the deadline
stained with morning black tea.
student by day, loser by night
Bailey Lewis Feb 2016
And as we sit across the table
From each other
I realize that instead of this
Exam review
I’d much rather study you
Short, but I thought it was cute.
Next page