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Faith 1d
If I sit in a corner, they all think I'm sad
Fine, whatever
If I'd rather stay in my room, they all think I'm moody
I'm growing sick of this
If I don't feel like talking, they say "Oh, she's a teen"
Can you please stop?
Maybe I actually don't like it when you make assumptions about me
So as much as I love you,
Leave me be
Can't I just sit around and... normal?
My inspiration:

My inspiration was the man on the moon,
Who defied gravity like some kids cartoon.
A man who refused to fold to the norm,
Made his own story despite the storm.

My inspiration was the lonely planet,
Who stood as small as a pomegranate.
A girl who’s fought injury and sprain,
Yet still can stand up for her next big gain.

My inspiration was my best friend,
Who’s mould doesn’t quite fit the “trend”.
She seems content within her skin,
At least that’s what I read from her grin.

My inspiration was my mum and my dad,
They’d supported each other all through the bad.
Served our country throughout the years,
Now it was time to forget those fears.

My inspiration lies only next door,
A girl who battles a personal war.
Through day and night she slays her demons,
Piquing all of her worst ever feelings.

My inspiration is you who told me I can’t,
I’ll prove you wrong and then you’ll recant.
For what kills me only makes me stronger,
And your opinions I’ll think of no longer.

My inspiration is the man I pass on the street,
That sits happy in a doorway with a dog at his feet.
The animal who seems to keep his spirits alive,
I suppose helps give him a little drive.

I don’t have one inspiration in this life,
Nor should you for it would cause strife
But towards the top of that growing list,
Should you yourself stand entirely unmissed.
pained 6d
“buti pa si ganyan”

“Talo ka”

“tignan mo si ano”

“Yan lang ba kaya mo?”

If I scream loud enough,
Can I unheard every word I just heard.

If I'll cry a river,
Will you stop comparing me to everybody else.

If I’ll **** myself in front of you,
Will that open your eyes of how much you’re killing me.

If I die
Will you finally see my worth?
because if it will,

I can **** myself now,
Just to be enough for you,

just kids
getting high when your parents aren't home
hoping no one hears us
or sees us climb into the hot tub
half *****
on a cold night
with a blunt in one hand
and my hand in the other
Sidney Chelle Nov 12
do you ever look at that freshman year photo of yourself,
(maybe hair fuzzed, maybe eyes wide, maybe teeth wider still,)
and think,
you think, “that’s not me.”
and you’re right.
it’s not old.
it’s not tired.
it hasn’t slept through first period yet - and survived.
(so you had to fight off two cats to do your homework, ended up being pretty rushed and of course you know teacher wants your best work…)
it hasn’t crashed a car into the garage yet.
(*******, you were going so slow! how did that even happen??)
it hasn’t had sweaty-palmed movies, a quick rub on the pants before going in for the hold.
(she smells so good!)
your mom makes you broccoli, extra mushy because that’s how you like it, and you get a little teary.
you think “i haven’t cried over broccoli since i was five.”
you wear the same coat that you did in seventh grade.
the arms are stained.
you can almost still see grass from hills long ago.
when you put it on, your stomach still rolls down those hills a little bit.
you feel the cold snaps inside its very lining,
an excited screech, a simple pleasure.
you still know how to do that special little breath before the big one when you step outside.
(means your lungs don’t turn into icicles. maybe you won’t need it where you’re going.)
i bought that coat about one foot two ago.
(i’ll still need it where i’m going.)
i confessed my first about three hundred sins ago.
(i’ll still need it where i’m going.)
you went from giving gum to people you’ve never thought about,
(trust me, it’s nothing!)
to trademark glares, meant to keep the thoughts out.
it feels like there’s a watermark over everything you write.
it feels like your sense of sight
is far off.
(maybe it’s in california,)
it got pulled out.
(maybe it’s in pennsylvania,)
it rooted again elsewhere.
(maybe it’s in boston. maybe it’s always been boston. your whole life, it was boston. you never even knew.)
glassy-eyed stare,
(over water.)
now that’s some trademark glare!
(over ice. over easy. over and out. so over it.)
maybe in sophomore year you called a teacher by their first name,
and ran away when you got that trademark glare.
now it’s “hey douglas, guess who didn’t do their homework uh-gain?”
it’s a joke that y’all share.
you know you won’t remember so much.
you won’t remember the shoe squeaks, every last-minute print job.
you won’t remember the chicken nuggets, how much gum bubbles ****** you off during MCAS,
but you remember a glow.
i remember a warmth, so much.
i remember every time that i grew a little more “i can do it and i don’t know what it will be,”
even if i don’t have the words.
will you remember too?
i wrote on my arm once,
“it all feels so dissolved.
eyes are tired.
eyes are hopeful.
the growing up gets closer each day,
and we are moving on.”
all of this isn’t knowing you can fly.
it’s knowing you know how to try.
mjad Nov 12
Put your head on my shoulder
Whisper in my ear
Words I want to hear
Tell me
Tell me that you love me too

Put your hand on my thigh now
Get my Snapchat
Send a pic like that
Show me
Show me you wanna **** too
Inspired by Paul Anka's "put your head on my shoulder" how young couples communicate "love." Then the first stanza vs. now the second stanza
MelaninInked Nov 11
I want to eat junk and not grow fat
I want a loving boyfriend whose not an *******
I want to miss classes and still get a degree
I want to be a pro footballer without hurting my knee
I want flawless skin with an iced tea and milkshake diet
I want my voice to be heard and still be quiet
I want to have hot *** and keep my virginity
I want to party all night and day and keep my sanity
I want to smoke trees as still be religious
I want to not lift a finger and still be prestigious
I want the impossible
My life is a combination of paradoxical situations and states. ha. ha. ha. Not even funny
trapped in a terrible tangle
of thorns.
pierced by the powerful pains
of thoughts.
with every attempted escape
it tightens.
yes, i'm afraid what will happen,
i'm frightened.

how many people come and go with
blunted shears?
are they ready for the bush?
i sneer.
for they will never be ready, they will
never comprehend.
they’ll never understand how to help
their friend.

i have been trapped in a terrible tangle
of thorns
for years.
and now,
the thorns
are gone.

but so am i.
Open to your own interpretation.
red and weak petal shields,
strong in their looks
and their fake perfection.
nobody knows
that roses are ****,
when you peel away the petals.
we aren't as we seem
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