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"eyedrops" poems
Step 1: Get out of bed Step 2: Look in the mirror Step 3: Practice your smile Step 4: Eyedrops to hide the red eyes Step 5: Conceal the dark circles Step 6: Breathe The curtains are almost up Step 7: Lock down the pain Step 8: Ignore the weight on your chest Step 9: Silence the screams inside of your mind Step 10: Choke down the sobs Step 11: Ignore the stinging in your eyes Step 12: Swallow past the tightness in your throat You’ve put on this show a million times Step 13: Don’t let them see Times up. Curtains up. Camera rolling
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Mar 18, 2018
Mar 18, 2018 at 9:23 PM UTC
Steps
Comes in Jars Comes in little **** baggies Comes in Wrapped up clear wraps Comes in capsules Comes in bottles Comes in a "100% organic" jars from the smoke shop Comes in a friends hand Comes in a pouch Comes in eyedrops Comes in as the best gift
0
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 6:50 AM UTC
Drugs
I will keep pushing myself. Keep going. I will read Edmund Spenser, Shakespeare, Wilde, Shelley, Doyle, and CS Lewis By the end of the summer. You laugh. Two weeks, one book a day, it isn't hard. I only have four chapters of chemistry to finish, Two chapters of AP Physics, Four chapters of AP US history, My personal reading list, Four debate cases, And a little light reading (Judith Butler and Ayn Rand). I WILL finish everything I have to do. Refill the coffee *** I'll use more eyedrops. Two weeks. I will finish my summer homework.
0
Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 12:43 AM UTC
Procrastination
Steps for Life: 1. Wake up and brush your teeth twice and use mouthwash.     Make sure your teeth are pearly white.     Floss so your teeth don't rot with grim. 2. Drop in some eyedrops,     so no one can see that you cried. 3. Choose your clothes.     Don't choose something that isn't name brand.     Don't choose something that's ugly or unflattering.     Wear your waist trainer so that your waist can be thin and your     stomach is flat. 4. Get your makeup together.     Wear the right color eyeshadow, make sure your lashes long enough,     make sure you choose the right color to match your outfit. 5. Pick the right shoes.     Choose the heels that are in season.     It doesn't matter if they aren't comfortable you have to wear them to     be cool. 6. Go to school     Go to school and suffer.     Hang out with the popular kids.     Be rude to other girls and criticize them for not having the money to     afford clothes like yours. 7. Come home.     Lift a few weights to keep your arms thin.     Swallow a nasty concoction and have dinner so you can rid of it. 8. Repeat for the rest of your life because you won't ever be good enough. To a girl, why is life about the size of your thighs? The thinness of your waist. The color of your eyes, The color of your skin. The flatness of your stomach The shape of your jaw. The length of your legs. The way you walk and whether or not you fall. They hid the pain. Because pain is beauty. And beauty was all that matters. The biggest goal is to be popular but to be popular you have to be liked. No one likes an unattractive girl. No one likes a girl who isn't pretty. To be popular, to awesome to other people, to be cool, You have to make yourself suffer from the pain that is beauty. You can't eat anything you want if you do you'll gain weight and you'll be fat. You can't eat all 3 meals because you'll get fat. Instead, you have to eat a bit for some energy but then force it all back up because too much food will ruin your flat stomach and no one likes a girl who's fat. You can't eat certain foods because it's messy and people see your face being a mess than say goodbye to your popularity because no one likes a messy girl. You can't join certain clubs and you can't get straight A's. This is because no one likes a brainiac girl or all the other fantastic words. You can't wear sweatpants if you aren't required too. Sweatpants aren't flattering and if no one likes you then neither should you. You will suffer in silence Because everyone thinks that you're fine. You have to follow a strict diet or else your popularity will die. No will see the cuts on your thighs because that's the only place they won't show. You can cut your shoulders, your wrist or stomach but people will see and think of you as a depressed emo and no one wants to be seen with that freak. Society has girls be trapped in a box where they follow the same horrible routine. Inspirational people say that the box is paper and you can just break it to be free. If the box is paper why am I so weak? Why can't I break it? Those inspirational people are wrong. The box isn't paper. It's stone.
0
Apr 21, 2018
Apr 21, 2018 at 4:00 PM UTC
Why is This Life to a Girl?
Steps for Life: 1. Wake up and brush your teeth twice and use mouthwash.     Make sure your teeth are pearly white.     Floss so your teeth don't rot with grim. 2. Drop in some eyedrops,     so no one can see that you cried. 3. Choose your clothes.     Don't choose something that isn't name brand.     Don't choose something that's ugly or unflattering.     Wear your waist trainer so that your waist can be thin and your     stomach is flat. 4. Get your makeup together.     Wear the right color eyeshadow, make sure your lashes long enough,     make sure you choose the right color to match your outfit. 5. Pick the right shoes.     Choose the heels that are in season.     It doesn't matter if they aren't comfortable you have to wear them to     be cool. 6. Go to school     Go to school and suffer.     Hang out with the popular kids.     Be rude to other girls and criticize them for not having the money to     afford clothes like yours. 7. Come home.     Lift a few weights to keep your arms thin.     Swallow a nasty concoction and have dinner so you can rid of it. 8. Repeat for the rest of your life because you won't ever be good enough. To a girl, why is life about the size of your thighs? The thinness of your waist. The color of your eyes, The color of your skin. The flatness of your stomach The shape of your jaw. The length of your legs. The way you walk and whether or not you fall. They hid the pain. Because pain is beauty. And beauty was all that matters. The biggest goal is to be popular but to be popular you have to be liked. No one likes an unattractive girl. No one likes a girl who isn't pretty. To be popular, to awesome to other people, to be cool, You have to make yourself suffer from the pain that is beauty. You can't eat anything you want if you do you'll gain weight and you'll be fat. You can't eat all 3 meals because you'll get fat. Instead, you have to eat a bit for some energy but then force it all back up because too much food will ruin your flat stomach and no one likes a girl who's fat. You can't eat certain foods because it's messy and people see your face being a mess than say goodbye to your popularity because no one likes a messy girl. You can't join certain clubs and you can't get straight A's. This is because no one likes a brainiac girl or all the other fantastic words. You can't wear sweatpants if you aren't required too. Sweatpants aren't flattering and if no one likes you then neither should you. You will suffer in silence Because everyone thinks that you're fine. You have to follow a strict diet or else your popularity will die. No will see the cuts on your thighs because that's the only place they won't show. You can cut your shoulders, your wrist or stomach but people will see and think of you as a depressed emo and no one wants to be seen with that freak. Society has girls be trapped in a box where they follow the same horrible routine. Inspirational people say that the box is paper and you can just break it to be free. If the box is paper why am I so weak? Why can't I break it? Those inspirational people are wrong. The box isn't paper. It's stone.
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Was I scared? --Well, when she was coughing her lungs out and had to run to the sink to spit in order to breathe again, I kind of got scared. And when I took a hit and the smoke filled my lungs, pulled the bowl out, breathed in more smoke, held it in, finally let it out and passed it to my uncles girlfriend, I was scared; yes. I could feel my lungs blackening and my chest burning, eyes watering, and nothing but coughing. I just remember thinking "it's Christmas. Why am I doing this? It's Christmas." But that didn't stop me from grabbing the **** again. Eyedrops were a life saver, so was my uncle's water. With my knees trembling and my heart racing I got in the car and headed back. My cousin made a joke claiming it to only be funny when we were high, then apologized for it being so stupid. We drove back to the house -- yes we had a designated driver, and stumbled out of the car and went back into my Nanny's house like nothing had happened. Talking to my family was not the easiest, but no one suspected a thing. Eyes droopy, room turning in circles, cotton mouth, slow speech, all things that happened while trying to keep cool. I guess you could say I had a high and mighty Christmas this year.
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Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 12:45 AM UTC
Christmas 2014 was not my proudest moment..
Blistering honeydew pouring down Hitting the ground like priceless china Why do people even hold onto china Crickets screeching and the mattress underneath me And suddenly I am so aware of mortality I want to bleed out the soft cushions Let the insides rot away to the bone All the lights and hands and people Angels swirling around asking for directions Even the mist is unbearable at times O, god, I can't even hate you I'll have to settle for abjuration Home is where the cold hollow trees are Home is where I wish I was
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Apr 15, 2021
Apr 15, 2021 at 4:09 AM UTC
Peaches and Eyedrops
rows of torn laces love that never exited eyedrops that blur my vision love. or is it evol ?
0
Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 11:37 AM UTC
Untitled
(whimsy - playfully quaint or fanciful behavior or humor) —— recent events, minor tumults, additive, the summing up of wearing, a slip and fall, financial reverses, communiques misunderstood, clanking pipes resounding against a sonorous soundless soulful sleep, and the unrest of disinterest in essaying thoughts into words into creativity a far far cry from singing of the whimsy in life that teases and delights, replaced by a weariness from the whiners, who craftily abuse, with deft badly prosed propaganda propositions, seeking solace in solitude + add-an-all-inability to forsee the goodness in people, delimiting desire to inspire, why then compose when so decidedly decomposing? lay the ownership of pen-man-ship down until dealt an inside straight, eyedrops that open wide, dilate into a wider perspective, a kinder me, and the patience of a patient awaiting a healing vaccine against the flu of whining. so awfully communicable, will read Whitman, Frost, and those revolutionary Persians who ken the revivification of spirit, return from a there as a refugee to a refreshed refuge of here                             nml Addendum ——— *the chill in the body that’s so invasive, resisting two sweaters, a coat named “The De~icer,” over heavy sweats, the interior is* frostbitten
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Feb 22, 2025
Feb 22, 2025 at 5:22 AM UTC
walking a path tween whimsy, whiny & wearing
i scrape by with poems and songs and each of them says "there is purpose, there is love," and I hoard them as my senses ring and touch turns intangible and the music sings "you are something, God i don't know what, but you're something."
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Sep 3, 2020
Sep 3, 2020 at 2:40 PM UTC
eyedrops
Somehow feelings have become cheap Go to the grocery store Aisle number six Sadness is half off Happiness is two-for-one Hatred is ninety-five cents And love became priceless Genuine feelings are scarce Eyedrops are used as tears Scripts are used for dates The human population of beating hearts Are now extinct The earth is home To bags of flesh And stone hearts
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Dec 6, 2019
Dec 6, 2019 at 4:02 PM UTC
Ninety-five Cents