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When you dream
A tree

And find
Him/Her watering
It's love

That simple
Genre: Observational
Theme: Be Responsible ||  Reciprocation
Sienna Feb 8
i see that you're home,
body curled up in bed
damp pillow underneath
i say you've been missed.

i tell you im sick,
though you should already know
i have dreams at night
but you don't keep them in the morning.

blinded by paradise,
you planned to never return
i told you perfection's impermenant
i guess you('ll be) forgot(ton too).
(but i won't tell you that part)

came back to me shattered,
the pieces diverged
left you bleeding out
but the timer, you set.

so please, dear, do hold on
just consider one last thing:
do you regret going
just because you couldn’t stay?
i think not.
JS Carie Feb 6
This is immediate
Everyday, hour
Every time, every moment
Accompanying a lack of denial
Or refusal, is a confidence
My head is level
Eyes are straight
Heart is a little off beat
Even still,
Keeping possessed by this thoughtful nature and
the usher cast for a mind under clouds
Those chords from those organs Equal
My understanding
My forecast
My disbelief
My expected
My growth
My overthrown
My burn
My yearn
But I do deny what is known
from hearing the being
And seeing what I was hearing
Held my place for seasoning to marinade and stew in
A Well rehearsed
And Tirelessly versed
Can’t deny how much comes and
what is earned
is now learned
Forever Renouncing any feels of the spurned
Laid this body down over puddles in storms
In a wonder what will form
That's the drive most important
Only the girl,
She's all that really ever matters, only this one

for her return
There between discontent and enchantment
Sits the self, seeking awe and amazement,
In response to perceived monotony
From the loss of its own autonomy.

There between morning’s hopeful open eyes
Sits the self, no different from last sunrise,
Welcoming heavy eyelids of midnight
To close one more day that seemed not quite right.

There between poems and the literal
Sits the self, with insight ephemeral,
Waging war with the real and imagined
Encounters with thoughts so undisciplined.

There between what is and what can become
Sits the self, embodied delirium,
Each unique but with no definition,
An unresolved eternal condition.
Instagram @insightshurt
Blogging at www.insightshurt.com
Buy "Insights Hurt: Bringing Healing Thoughts To Life" at store.bookbaby.com/book/insights-hurt
Katie Read Feb 2
I understand what you’re going through,
It’s not nice when you feel you’ve got nothing left to lose.
And I’ve felt pain too,
a pain not too dissimilar to yours I’m sure.
One that starts off as a tickle and develops into a roar.
Josh Feb 1
What is locked away
Can't be found,
Even though, it's right there for you to see
Transparent tranquility in my breath,
Makes you think we are the same,
Mistake,
Even though we share this world, this space, this air
I breath different than you,
I do on purpose
These lines,
Intricate, like the ones on my palms
This is how we are different

Raw realness,
So potent it's almost putrid
Symmetrical syntax,
So exact, it seems divine
A shuffling stream of words fluid to a song,
Yet, alien to you
This is how we are different
Yes,
What is bound to my soul,
Is invisible,
To you
Haylin Jan 30
They said
Don’t wear leggings
Or a shirt that shows your cleavage
Because you need to be covered up
You’re a distraction

They said
Don’t use your period as an excuse
For male teachers to let you go to the bathroom
Because you’re not fooling anybody

They said
Don’t shave your head
Boys can
You can’t and don’t
And won’t because we’ll suspend you

They said
Watch the length of your skirt
The color of your hair
The shoes and makeup
The piercings
And they call that fair

They said
Come to us if something is wrong
if you’re feeling bullied
if you feel unsafe
I guess they don’t remember asking my friend and I
if we heard of anyone in our year with suicidal tendencies
They asked us because
We were the sensible ones
The bright ones
We couldn't have been depressed.
I guess they didn’t see my panic
and my hand squeezing my wrist.


Because school
Is not a place
Where you can express who you are
School is not the place where you feel safe
It's a battleground on the outside of your comfort zone.

School isn’t about education
Its a challenge, competition
Its a measurement of your capabilities  

But what if you don't excel?
You’re called out for not being good enough
You're humiliated. Mocked.

You get looked down on
Judged
Embarrassed
And you don’t get your
Degree

As if a degree explains who you are
What you’ve been through
How much you’re worth

As if a degree
Measures the capacity
Of your heart
And your knowledge

And a teacher can share your grade
Make a joke and smirk
Cause they think you’re not worth it

And they can laugh and yell and call your parents
Who don’t think you’re any better.

Because year after year they’ve been led to believe
that you’re easily distracted
that you don’t do what you’re told
that you’re rebellious

Because even if you showed respect to the hypocrisy
That you can't help but notice,
They still won’t understand that you're just fighting
for what you believe is right, for mutual respect.

Because that’s not what you were thought.
You were thought to raise your hand when you want to speak.
And even if you made a valid point
You would still get lectured on putting your hand up when you want to speak.
Discipline put first.

**And that is my definition of school
Xallan Jan 28
If I had the right tools I'd show you
How empty my mind is, like a computer
That updates every few months,
Erasing all that data, any wisdom.
Deleted- motors still whirring
Fans still blowing upon the spinning
Of an empty disk, a blank hard-drive.
Ready to encode new preferences
New creeds, programming, ideations.

I am still searching for understanding
Of race, of society, of priorities,
Of gods, of worship, of labels,
Of love, of lovers, of choice
Of the parts of people they choose to reveal,
They choose to hide (their masks),
What they cannot choose to be, and
Cannot choose to show-
Of humanity- identity.

I don't get an opinion on any of that-
Try as I may, I will never understand.
I was born without an identity
And wisdom teeth, likewise,
I am not wise for lack of them
At least never need removal
For like wisdom teeth, the result
Of irritation is surgery, pain, and recovery
I skipped that, so that pain isn't real.
Taji Jan 25
It dances on my tongue
It’s like fire in my lungs
With every sip
I forget
And my body feels numb
My brain finally calms
I feel a peace now
My eyes start to close
Some momentary bliss
I’m numb
Just drunk enough to feel better
Not drunk enough to die
That’s the way that I like it
Somewhere in between awake and not
I just can’t stand to feel anymore
I hate myself
That ***** but
That’s the truth
I have nothing to offer
And even though I know that’s a lie
I still can’t help but to believe it
I try so hard
But I always come short
They tell me I’m wrong
That I have so much to offer
But I can’t see that all the time
Only some times
And the times that I don’t
I feel that it’s wrong
So here I am
Drinking what could be coffee
And what could be *** and coke
But I think we all know it’s the latter
I just want to quit
Quit life
Quit existence
But I know that’s no option
And I’m sorry that crossed my mind
It’s another way I failed
It seems like that’s all I do lately
But I try
I swear to God I try
This God that I want to believe in
And I see all my friends on fire for him
And I want that
I crave that
But I don’t even know if I truly believe
Do I?
Or do I just want to?
Maybe that’s what’s really wrong
I don’t know
I hate not knowing
But you can’t know
Not with something like this
But there has to be
I refuse to believe there is not God
Because if there is not
Why the **** have I suffered so
There has to be a reason
I need there to be a plan
Is it so bad to believe in God out of desperation?
What if that’s all I have?
Have I completely failed?
I have
And I hate that
I can’t even survive on my own
God, I just want some release
And that is such a dangerous prayer
It’s like asking for forgiveness or patience
You know what they say about that
You ask for it
Then get opportunities instead
That’s not what I want
I want an answer
I want to release the fire in my veins
I want to know that my life meant something
That way I can leave this place
I can die
Knowing I left it just a little better
But I will never know that
And I can’t leave some of these people
And so my sentence
For all the wrong I’ve done
Is survival
And it feels like a violation
Of any claim I have to the eighth amendment
And I’m sorry
I’m sorry that this is how I feel
I’m sorry for being this way
I’m sorry for making your lives harder
I’m sorry
So if this was my letter
That letter people write to say goodbye
I’d tell you thank you
Thank you for helping me live this long
For making me smile and laugh
That you for giving me things to look forward to
Thank you for so so much
There is no way I could write it all down
But that’s not what this is
I won’t die tonight
I’m just drunk
And even if I wasn’t
I wouldn’t
It may be trivial but
I have conventions to go to
My cat to snuggle
Cows to meet
And people I love
Even if I can’t love me.
Drunken rambling and trying to make sense of things
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