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Ww Sep 13
: we grew tired, I guess
  puffed the last smoke
  from from our burnt down cigarettes.
ashton May 14
I didn't choose it
I didn't wake up one day and tell myself
let's be anxious
let's be depressed
let's want to die
let's start self harming
I didn't choose to be like this

slowly my problems
my monsters
became visible
they started small
skipping lunch
making a cut or two on my hand
shaking for a while in school
but I fell

I didn't choose to be this person.
We just get handed who we are.
I didn't choose this.
I never wanted to be that

I didn't want to be riddled with anxiety and insecurities,
to wallow in self-pity and sleep for hours everyday
to stay up all night with anxiety
to steal razors
to eat one-hundred calories and then **** it back up
but that's what happened.

I didn't choose this
I didn't choose
I didn't choose to tear apart my life.
it just
happened
I'm really good right now but in a reflective state currently oof
I know a guy who lives a happy life
in a comfortable home.
He showed me a photo
of all his good friends.
Hopefully, someday I'll
become his best friend.
I need to know that
I matter in his life.
That's selfish,
but I need to know
that I made a difference
in somebody's life
for the better,
someday.
I'll take a photo of us together
and from then on
we'll always be best friends,
forever?
Feedback welcomed!
girl gonzo Oct 9
morning dew drops on your collar
impressing me with the zealous way the seasons drastically measure the moment it takes me
to reach forwards and brush it off
liquid winter falling onto a ***** cement
the names 'mark + bethany' written jaggedly into the cold stone of asphalt
i wait for it to disappear, for the flicker of everything gone to fade from my vision
but it passes too quickly
i look back up and there's no one around
the street is empty and the capricious wind has ceased
a sucker for patterns i walk into a fabric store and feel my hand linger on the erratic linens
fingers paused on the peach organza sprawled like a pink bubblegum sea
and i am swept into the manic fantasies of wearing the sheer tissue-like textile into
the abdomen of your sweaty palm and sinking like a sticky sweet stripe
until you put your hand in your pocket and i spend a year inside melting
into the every thread and curve of your jean until it is nothing but disgusting sugar
everything i could be when i am hidden from sight in the dark caverns of denim pants
who knew the tongue in cheek joke would be nothing but my tongue in your mouth
touching all the way up your gums  
find me sweltering beneath the uvula wondering if i could go back
to the time i found that girl with the mountain logo sweatshirt who whistled between her teeth and hummed all the reasons i should skin my knee and kiss the salty wound because there's no greater pleasure than knowing you don't have to wait for that morning dew drop to fall from their ******* collar
Danny Z Jul 23
Horses at play on green-blue days
I wanted to break one
but Papa said “No,
you’re not old enough.”

Heated like Alabama mud pie
I mounted my pony and galloped till
red moon twilight

Black silhouettes against a starry backdrop
Cy and I were famished
“Don’t worry girl--I’ll filch us some good glop.”

But her body done plopped like a bag of feed
in the arms of baby Jean
so we went to sleep.

Now howlin’ mutts harmonize with mornin’ critter’s buzz.
Under an old oak, Cy and I woke up.
I gone soaked in a brook, leavin’ Cy behind
and returned to her absence,

“Cymbeline! Cymbeline!
Why’ve you gone and done this?!”

My chest felt tight
but I refused to cry

(a baby would,
not I,
and Papa wouldn’t want me to.)

But just like that Cy returned with a basket of biscuits
she done filched from old man Johnson’s
“Aw yeah, atta girl!”
I tousle her mane
as she sings with a neigh
I put one in my belly but the stuff’s too dry
so I fed the rest to Cy.

And as I was enjoyin’ the sound of the wind through the trees
like crashin’ tides of an ocean I’ve never seen
(but Papa told me about)
I heard some feller holler, “I’m gonna **** that **** pony!”
I turn to see two heads bob up and down the *****-y path--
It’s Old Man Johnson and his no-good offspring,
Tiny Johnny,
over yonder

“I think it’s that Catholic boy, Pa!”
“Well then he better say his Hail Marys because I’m going to whip his hide raw!”

Stay or get--what to do?!
I was shakin’ in my boots
so I done get and Cy did too!

Up and over the fence of a scary old Red Skin
We scurry to the back of his barn and watch
them hollerin’, all perplexed
because they ain’t dare step in.

Old Man Johnson then turns Johnny’s head red
with a no-good  lashin’
that made him bray like an ***
all the while sayin’,
“Why’d you get fooled by a ***** little
Catholic?!”

(you know, I heard Johnny wets the bed,
but I do too.
Maybe next time I see him
I’ll compliment his boots.)

Johnny shot out a ****** spittle
and only said, “c'est la vie,”
and picked up his feet to leave
And as I watched the Old Man also make his exit
I felt the taping finger of a
tall old Red Skin
with tree-bark skin and a crinkly mouth
lookin’ down on me
beggin’,
“Be on your way, please.”
I done bowed my head and said, “We beg your pardon, Chief.”
and dashed away quickly with shiverin' tails
back on the Homecrest dirt trail

So Cy and I rode for half a day
until Papa saw us a’commin’ his way
He took off his glasses
and began to cry
I jumped in his arms
and I cried too
is he dissembling now
coming apart at the seams
cut like he didn't want it to

did he love things we couldn't see

we really don't know

that's entertainment
D A W N May 9
i remember the way your hair shined through the sunny day
studying the way your eyes flutter every time you stutter
the words you cant say
i remember how pleasing your voice was beneath my ears
i remember being with you
washed away my fears
do you remember the days where we used to lay in the shade?
forming figures in the clouds
having long conversations for hours
nights where we stayed up late
getting into ****** debates about who's right or wrong,
picking out the right song to play over and over again.
remember how we fought over ****** stuff?
and even though times get rough, we'd just laugh it all up
do you remember when we met in September?
in english class where the hours didn't last
and that's where it happened so fast
creating memories that we thought would remain
but all we created
was pain
and that was the last day i saw you.
sitting on the bench
with another girl
my heart clenched
cheeks tear-drenched
my pride craving for revenge.
listen darling,
i just want you to remember
from the beginning of september
remember the long-lasting splendor
the last moments of us being together
because i remembered
and dare i keep it in my heart forever.
wrote in 2015 for R.C
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