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lance Sep 27
i felt miserable,
solemn to the fact,
that giving up
was my harsh reality.

i had dealt with pain before,
but nothing like
the anguish i juggled
in my own hands,
every single dying day,
keeping me up at night.

there’s something about,
sitting all alone
listening to the crickets,
while fueling my addiction,
one cigarette after another.
always finding comfort
in all the worst ways.

Back in eighth grade,
I littered my arms with scars,
told myself no more drugs,
But took them that very night.
always anxious for a way out of my own anxiety,
social and situational always got the best of me.

Took the oath of staying sober,
and picking myself up,
from the debt my heart held that night,
i swore it would stop.

but just like me,
it pushed through,
even when the smoke
filled it’s cavities,
and even when my own head,
lied to me,
over and over again.

My parents always said:

“listen to your heart, and not your head”.
silk sheets scraping smooth skin
hiding from the morning sun-
the sky looking down at her
picking clouds out one by one.

jays chirping the same song
each night before bed--
the blues lyrics
always getting stuck in her head.

the shirt she wore when she first kissed you,
hands grasping so tight her veins went

when she sees her favorite color,
she only thinks of you--
but when you're together
she is never really blue.
natalie May 2
your love fits like a glove,

but the glove has been doused in gasoline and lit on fire.
Adarsh singh Apr 1
Age 12,
not a single tension of this world,
standing at a standstill,
And shouting ,'**** the whole universe'

age 13,
failed first time,
everything was fine,
except my parent's pride,

age 14,failed again,
for my pride,
my mum made me change my school once again,
I didn't feed on sun,still for everyone I was an alien,
thanks to Harry, Ron and Hermoine,
I learnt friendship from a friendship which I never got,
thanks to J.K Rowling too,
she's the reason why these rhymes make much more sense to me than those value of pi's do,

age 15, failed once again,
but no worries,
cause I know I am going to change the game,
that doesn't mean I don't cry,
don't worry,
when someone asks me,
I never tell them 'why?'

I read Edgar Allan Poe to Dan brown,
did not leave even a single account,
but still the main question remains,
will these words going to take me somewhere,
or even anywhere else,
or I too, will became a 9 to 5 slave just like everyone else.

-my story by adarsh Singh.
Rina Jan 4
I want to fold the sky
and throw it inside my
closet of unworn clothes.
Blow bubbles among the clouds
and swing my legs in the sky.
Maybe then, I wont complain
about my feet getting cold
and I'll have memories prettier
than the skin I want to be covered in.
Erin Beer Nov 2018
In 1914 when the cold wind blew,
Through no-mans land with a familiar tune.

In two opposing languages,
Both sides sang,
In perfect harmony,
Their voices rang out.

Two brave souls who started it all,
Risked their lives for a game of ball.

Germany and UK played side-by-side,
Enemies who became friends despite their divide.

A Christmas truce and a miracle of war,
A handshake that would become much, much more.
WW1 truce - Christmas day game of football. Inspired by the Morrison's 2014 advert.
Scarlett Sep 2018
it started in your bones
it ended in your heart
I miss your bright smile
I miss your cackling laugh
they told you it was time to say your last goodbyes
what do you do when your loved one dies?
you were a supernova in a world of stars
embracing everything that fell into your arms
the pears in the bathroom
the stuffed tigers on the shelf
its the story of my childhood
you taught me to love myself
an armchair and a gentle man
a woman full of joy
a godmother me
a  bakery near my home
the years grow in length, time passes
you're still gone
I haven't seen you in a while, I can't bring myself to see
the stone anchored in the ground where your head would be
do you still see us?
up in that heavenly place
do you still bless us, with your heavenly grace
I still message your phone
though I know you won't receive it
I can't bring myself to believe it
I've got the photos, the videos, and the proof
of a beautiful existence
but it's with a heavy heart that I say you're gone
it's not fair that you left so soon
so I close my eyes
and imagine you're in the room
Jasmine dryer Jul 2018
your filthy
you reek of  individuality
how dare you be such a mess
don't worry society can fix
after all they fixed all the other kids

with there blank stares
they confom
because now they don't care

now run along to the washing machine
and clean yourself up

but i don't want to go in the machine
its an hour
of turning and turning
over agian
till your rid of all stench

years later
i miss your mess
i miss the stench
and now i'm alone
once more
now your a shiny mirror
you only mimick
you conform

conformity is the biggest diseases  we face. it can **** an individual and only leave a husk
dont conform
Jasmine dryer Jul 2018
are you fine?
yes of course, don't worry

my fridge is stocked
thats a good thing right?
unless its the same food
for a week, un touched in the slightest

you wont eat
"are you anorexic, my friend?"
"yes" the words flow into me like a million blades in my blood
but i smile and say, i'll help you

you start to eat
your getting better
my best friend is getting better

my friend..."your fat"

i remember saying that to you
all those years ago
i started this

i hear the sound of gagging filling the halls
i run to you there
besides the toilet
face expressionless, eyes cold

how could you?

you lie down, and i remember that its my fault

this is all my fault , right?
i'm sorry
pretty late isn't it?
what do you mean?
i'm already dead

and with that theres a pounding in your head
there tears in your eyes
and you realize
this is all a lie

when i thought you were getting better, it was a way to cope with the fact that you had died
i lied-
to myself
to you

guilt, turns a person mad and forces them into the truth
even if they cant mange to swallow it
part of my new poetry line "guilt" post this everywhere you can on the internet , to help this problem!

*these are all realistic fiction which means there not real, but have real pressing issues
Call me bella Jun 2018
Golden soul
worth tons of gold,
cristaled eyes
filled with hope.

The love you brought,
has fullfilled this home
of pure innocence,
and unforgettable joy.
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