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"snapchats" poems
Why waste all these words on you when you can't even open my snapchats?
0
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 7:11 PM UTC
*******
i still remember the day i met you it was in the middle of july or sometime around there and from the start i really really liked you but there were always doubts in the back of my head because why on this earth we live on would someone like you ever even merely want to breathe the same air as me let alone kiss me and put the same air into my lungs? as beautiful as the thoughts of sharing the same air were the doubts were still there and even though they sometimes faded away they always seemed to come back especially when you showed me your favorite songs because i knew there was so much feeling behind the way you interpreted the lyrics and i didn’t understand any of it or maybe i just didn’t think of them the same way but you told me the night you were drunk that there was so much more to them than just silly nostalgia and it was then that i knew you weren’t good for me the lyrics were a subliminal message to me that the air in our lungs wasn’t air at all it was actually every chemical in the cigarettes you smoke amplified by three thousand times and it only got worse every time you kissed me but i was okay with our lungs both being black because black is our favorite color that’s the only thing we have in common the texts during sixth period came to a sudden halt and so did the snapchats even though they were always of the ground and the skype calls at two am and the instagram likes and the you’re beautiful's and the i miss you's you always said you’d keep your distance but i never thought you’d actually leave and i really didn’t think it would be without saying goodbye but it’s okay because now the fragments i spilled to this page are full sentences and everything is validated maybe you only wanted to kiss me because you knew it charred the inside of me and turned me into your favorite color i can breathe my own air now and maybe just maybe my lungs won’t be black anymore
0
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 8:08 AM UTC
i still remember the day i met you
i still remember the day i met you it was in the middle of july or sometime around there and from the start i really really liked you but there were always doubts in the back of my head because why on this earth we live on would someone like you ever even merely want to breathe the same air as me let alone kiss me and put the same air into my lungs? as beautiful as the thoughts of sharing the same air were the doubts were still there and even though they sometimes faded away they always seemed to come back especially when you showed me your favorite songs because i knew there was so much feeling behind the way you interpreted the lyrics and i didn’t understand any of it or maybe i just didn’t think of them the same way but you told me the night you were drunk that there was so much more to them than just silly nostalgia and it was then that i knew you weren’t good for me the lyrics were a subliminal message to me that the air in our lungs wasn’t air at all it was actually every chemical in the cigarettes you smoke amplified by three thousand times and it only got worse every time you kissed me but i was okay with our lungs both being black because black is our favorite color that’s the only thing we have in common the texts during sixth period came to a sudden halt and so did the snapchats even though they were always of the ground and the skype calls at two am and the instagram likes and the you’re beautiful's and the i miss you's you always said you’d keep your distance but i never thought you’d actually leave and i really didn’t think it would be without saying goodbye but it’s okay because now the fragments i spilled to this page are full sentences and everything is validated maybe you only wanted to kiss me because you knew it charred the inside of me and turned me into your favorite color i can breathe my own air now and maybe just maybe my lungs won’t be black anymore
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9
I wish I could be like the cool kids. Sitting in a car watching the night go by iPhones blowing up with snapchats, facebook messages, likes, texts, random flirts from people. Getting into places normal people don't. Skinny getting things I want. I wish I could be one of the cool kids. Sitting on the beach smoking a joint around a plume of smoking and fire. Wasting our lives peaking in highschool. I wish I could be cool. I wish I could be one of the cool kids. *** Drugs Money Friends Lives dwindling memories fond loving life. Dying fast. I want to be cool
0
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 8:31 PM UTC
Cool
You're just the diamond in the rough streets Chi-burbia The girl next-door archetype I'm just the scumbag psychopath soliciting snapchats Darling, Don't you wanna get disrespected? I know this wine is loosening my lips How about you? Are you all wet yet? Do you want me to come in?
0
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 11:22 PM UTC
In Vino Veritas
when you only see the world through the prism of an Instagram filter, the spectrum's overshadowed by black and white vignettes. brick-by-brick you build that wall around yourself, closed off to the plight of every one else. who needs borders when you refuse to see beyond the periphery of your iPhone's screen? refugees? border patrol? endless war? merely fragmentary snapshots in off-kilter snapchats casting grim light on contemporary outcasts, rebels built to outlast the vitriol leveled at modern-day martyrs by tyrants and overlords. 'cause when you neglect to read the passages of history, you scapegoat the brave, can't see the forest for the trees, reduce the complex to Manichean binaries of Good vs. Evil, Left vs. Right, an infinite etcetera of demagoguery. noses glued to illuminated screens, ignoring the visionaries for illusionary fantasies: one-click—purchased happiness, bread and circus. advertising has us chasing a feeling fleeting as a riptide when we ought to be rallying on the front lines, punching Nazis. a black bloc tossing bricks into storefront windows.
0
Apr 1, 2017
Apr 1, 2017 at 12:46 AM UTC
bricks
Baby, I must have found you on Pinterest because you’re the best idea I’ve ever had And if I could remember to tweet every cute thing you do, I would, believe me- You have the face everybody wishes they had the privilege to post on Instagram And yeah, I really like you You’re my favorite I swear Please never be afraid to direct message me Because, I don’t care if I can only see your face for 10 seconds- Your Snapchats would make me want to change my relationship status any day
0
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 2:46 PM UTC
Social Media
poetry isn't just for white people, Vivian isn't a girl's name, and I will wear these white jeans past Labor Day. we forget that we could touch the stars if we ******* tried, but instead we are here, drowning in atmosphere, choking on our inhibitions. there are ten pills tucked in the very back of your desk; you love them but they're about to become a crutch, and you are frightened. I don't **** with that new **** but it's not like you care. I'm still the same ******* idiot, total trash, I deleted your number and I won't send you snapchats, I wonder if you deleted my dickpics. lost intimacy, windowsill cacti, a Ziplock full of ******* stuffed inside your pillowcase; I went for a run, your name traipsing about my prefrontal cortex, smashing memories, beheading roosters, screaming incoherently about subprime mortgages and credit derivatives. the government is lying about 9/11 but no one really cares; the government is arming oppressive regimes in Missouri but white people don't care; would that I had such willful ignorance, the right to ignore the slaughter on our front lawns. my parents started from the bottom, they survived in America, decapitated birds on the doorstep. I do not have their strength and I am washing Xanax down with Gatorade and refusing to apologize.
0
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 6:39 PM UTC
spirit animal: maggot
He came into my life at a summer camp that felt like a prison. We didn't know each other then; but we do now. During the first few weeks that fate brought him into my life were the best I've had so far. We were so deep, so exciting, so vulnerable. We knew each other more in those few weeks than most married couples know in nine years... I went back to Colorado, he went back to Oklahoma. We never left each other really... Late night phone calls and video chats. Text messages and snapchats. We were together even when we were apart. Then that day changed everything. That horribly wonderful day... Those three words people long to hear spilt from his mouth. I rejected them. We still talked, yet not like we used to. Months went by and I realized that I needed that crazy boy in my life. I flew to him, his presence near my body made me tingle. Cuddles and snuggles came and went. I was just about to repeat the three words he once spoke to me when there was a knocking at the door. There she stood, looking like a goddess... He stuttered trying to introduce us. The best friend to the girlfriend. I was mortified. I was crushed. He could see the pain in my eyes and returned the look. She could care less for the sad atmosphere we gave off. The next two days were nothing but her. Then it was time for me to leave. Another two months went pass. He called one day crying. I tried to comfort him even when these tears gave me joy. She was gone, that I knew. What I would do, I didn't. Comforting him as best I could, he stopped crying and started laughing. I knew my time to tell him was near. Time stopped when he called. Midnight chats turned into midnight slurs when I dozed off. He thought I couldn't hear him when he said the words that make my heart jump. The next day he called again and again. Confused I called back in a panic. Come get me from the airport he said. I went and brought him back. A movie marathon was needed when we arrived. Anchorman was the first choice. Him in boxers, I in yoga pants cuddling on the bed. Laughing at the words said. He dozed off, I mindlessly said those three words in a whisper. He answered them with the same. Surprised I looked at the beautiful man laying next to me. He said them again yet louder and while looking into my eyes. A spark, a fire, burning inside took over and finally our lips met after all these years.
0
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 10:47 PM UTC
The Best Friend
He came into my life at a summer camp that felt like a prison. We didn't know each other then; but we do now. During the first few weeks that fate brought him into my life were the best I've had so far. We were so deep, so exciting, so vulnerable. We knew each other more in those few weeks than most married couples know in nine years... I went back to Colorado, he went back to Oklahoma. We never left each other really... Late night phone calls and video chats. Text messages and snapchats. We were together even when we were apart. Then that day changed everything. That horribly wonderful day... Those three words people long to hear spilt from his mouth. I rejected them. We still talked, yet not like we used to. Months went by and I realized that I needed that crazy boy in my life. I flew to him, his presence near my body made me tingle. Cuddles and snuggles came and went. I was just about to repeat the three words he once spoke to me when there was a knocking at the door. There she stood, looking like a goddess... He stuttered trying to introduce us. The best friend to the girlfriend. I was mortified. I was crushed. He could see the pain in my eyes and returned the look. She could care less for the sad atmosphere we gave off. The next two days were nothing but her. Then it was time for me to leave. Another two months went pass. He called one day crying. I tried to comfort him even when these tears gave me joy. She was gone, that I knew. What I would do, I didn't. Comforting him as best I could, he stopped crying and started laughing. I knew my time to tell him was near. Time stopped when he called. Midnight chats turned into midnight slurs when I dozed off. He thought I couldn't hear him when he said the words that make my heart jump. The next day he called again and again. Confused I called back in a panic. Come get me from the airport he said. I went and brought him back. A movie marathon was needed when we arrived. Anchorman was the first choice. Him in boxers, I in yoga pants cuddling on the bed. Laughing at the words said. He dozed off, I mindlessly said those three words in a whisper. He answered them with the same. Surprised I looked at the beautiful man laying next to me. He said them again yet louder and while looking into my eyes. A spark, a fire, burning inside took over and finally our lips met after all these years.
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51
One. My first kiss was a country boy. His dorm smelled like coconut and summer but three days later, he told me he didn't want a relationship. Two days after that, he stopped talking to me. He used me. Two. I kissed a boy whose intentions were never what I thought they were. He had hands that wandered and lips that didn't quite fit against mine. That was our first and last date. Three I thought I loved him. Young and in love, I let him touch my heart and my body and I thought we were forever. But his hands were too big for mine and he left me, like all the rest. But I don't miss him. Four. Late night Snapchats that led to drunken kisses and roaming fingers. And regret. I still think about it. Five. I was 19, and he was gentle and slow. He held my face as if I was porcelain, beautiful and fragile. After, he held me close to his chest and I could hear his heart beating with mine. Perfect fit.
0
Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 3:52 PM UTC
Kisses
Black hole kisses ******* me out of myself. Kisses wrapped in hugs. Intimate moments at intimate times. Memories to treasure On a cold winter night. We once played a New Year Game In which you kissed a girl Then swopped her with another: Twenty or so kisses To compare. One kiss so wide I could hardly stretch To meet it. Ending up Trust me, With the big fat unresponsive one Too drunk To even know She was being kissed. Recall one time being coolly kissed Politely: A kiss that said In no uncertain terms – If you want passion You’d better go elsewhere My dear. For kisses are like handshakes: Some firm and friendly; Others too hard Or too limp. The young don’t always get it: Lettuce limp With their customary hands. Physical expression A dying art Like conversation In this digital age Of mobile phones Snapchats And Insta-Images. Time to rekindle the past, Go back to playing out – And away! Get mud ****** mucky All gloves off. Back to Basics, That’s The Way. Paul Butters © PB 5\2\2019.
0
Feb 5, 2019
Feb 5, 2019 at 6:28 AM UTC
Kisses
there's basically no difference between clouds and fog, and thunderstorms and reduced visibility have both put the fear of God in me; loving you is all pain and lust, interchangeable, interchangeable. slippery squealing synthesizers, aching for your touch and dying to throw these LCDs and LEDs and private snapchats into the Recycle Bin, and I am glittering in the dark, swerving across the median, drunk driving on the thought of seeing you just a little sooner than never.
0
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 8:28 PM UTC
m.i.a.
As the rain is drumming against the pavement I hurdle over The clenched arms Of couples kissing before class Whispering into each other's mouths "I'll miss you" Please keep your pants on You'll see each other in one hour Assistant principal Pushing people to class Sweeping halls Like the NSA Sweeping Sarah Palins email Swerving around students stalling In the center of the hall Screen shooting Their recently opened snapchats Bulldozing my way through High school cliques Huddled around that cute boys locker I finally make it to physical science And I'm wondering If god passed physical science
0
Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 8:37 AM UTC
Running to Class Late
we are connected, it may not be blood but there is something it draws us together closer than ever we talked everyday, for the age difference didn't bother us until the day you graduated and went away to dartmouth leaving me alone, in high school with the stereotypical preps i miss you everyday with all my heart those texts don't compare to those moments we shared that year i will never forget what we had late night snapchats and procrastination tacos i miss you everyday.
0
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 10:34 PM UTC
soulmates
I was just thinking.. how can you talk to one person everyday and then completely ignore that person the next day ? Crazy Reality. All of a sudden it's routine. Part of your life. And then it stops. The phone calls. The texts. The snapchats & etc. Everything just stops. All of a sudden you need a new routine. Something. Anything. Then one day you forget that person.. and their phone calls, and their texts, and their snapchats & etc. And suddenly you could care less. Why did it matter at first ? Why doesn't it matter now ? Who Cares ?! Now you're living again. That's all that matters. Carpe Diem ! Seize the Day ! -elissette
0
Dec 8, 2013
Dec 8, 2013 at 4:04 AM UTC
Carpe Diem !
The teenagers smile through their misery as they learn to love the taste of beer. I learned from then on that no actions of ease are ever sincere; that we all struggle to keep pace with all that is expected - a grade-mark percentage, an overtime enthusiast; a steady-state consumer who is always bright, bright, bright and on time; who is never bleak and twisted, or overcast and out of mind. I see the couple's silent feud as they hold hands across the road; I see the womanizer pop a zit in a wing mirror on his way to the latest ***** call. The sales assistant yawns through the breathing spaces of professional enthusiasm, scouring the pages of the company magazine, whilst the radio sweats in the corner of the room. Last night's words are on her mind as she signs the papers with today's date; today's place in time amongst all of the others that dominate her life, whilst leaving scars and no memories, punching the clock and throwing the fight. I see the hang-man wince in empathy after his dog had died last week; I see the expert in the hotel mirror, feeling sorry about his **** The Beautiful People are walking the ugly track back home, amongst the rubble of Snapchats and bad scratch-cards; the cardiac nurse meditates in the restaurant corridor before going to meet a woman. I learned from my lofted position on top of all the walls I have built, that no matter how vivid the flower in sunlight, in the darkness, it will always come to wilt.
0
Jul 11, 2015
Jul 11, 2015 at 9:28 AM UTC
The Silent Struggle
i thought you saw me as something special you said i was interesting who just says that? we stayed up late last night making plans and taking selfies i thought you were beautiful without makeup i still do you told me you would make me a mix tape who just does that? i thought you at least saw me as a possibility until my friend told me the two of you talked about the same things the same movies the same snapchats the same late night conversations and plans to hang out later i was never special you never wanted me and i feel so ******* idiotic for crying over this because we never even dated or acknowledged the possibility of romance and i imagined a world that wasn't really there there's always the possibility that i'll grow some guts and tell you how i feel but i'm a coward and scared of living to that extent how could i let myself hope?
0
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 6:22 PM UTC
a particular heartache
9/12/15 What he didn’t know What he didn’t know was that she knew she wasn’t enough. She knew that right now he’s begging her to be his, but in 6 months he’d be begging her to leave him alone. What he didn’t know was that she knew she wasn’t enough. What he didn’t know was that she knew he could make her happy, but she couldn’t make him happy.  He didn’t believe her when she told him so. He insisted that she was overthinking it and that everything would work out just fine. What he didn’t know was that she knew he could make her happy, but she couldn’t make him happy. What he didn’t know was that her life was a lot more complicated than what it seemed. She made her life out to be something it wasn’t. No one knew about her childhood. No one knew about her depression. No one knew how many times she wanted to die, but didn’t have the guts to make it happen. What he didn’t know was that her life was a lot more complicated than what it seemed. What he didn’t know was that she was incapable of being loved. Every guy that has come along has tried and left. She knew she was a lot to handle. She tried to make it easier, but insecurities could have killed her. What he didn’t know was that she was incapable of being loved. What he didn’t know was that she loved him. He couldn’t tell by the constant phone calls, constant text messages, tweets, and snapchats. He couldn’t tell by how she always wanted to be with him. He couldn’t tell by her always wanting to touch him, to be held by him, to be kissed by him. He couldn’t tell by her smile. What he didn’t know was that she loved him. She thought he was different. She thought that they were different. What she didn’t know was he was the same, and so was she. What he didn’t know was he couldn’t handle her, and she told him so.
0
Nov 21, 2015
Nov 21, 2015 at 10:27 PM UTC
What he didn't know
9/12/15 What he didn’t know What he didn’t know was that she knew she wasn’t enough. She knew that right now he’s begging her to be his, but in 6 months he’d be begging her to leave him alone. What he didn’t know was that she knew she wasn’t enough. What he didn’t know was that she knew he could make her happy, but she couldn’t make him happy.  He didn’t believe her when she told him so. He insisted that she was overthinking it and that everything would work out just fine. What he didn’t know was that she knew he could make her happy, but she couldn’t make him happy. What he didn’t know was that her life was a lot more complicated than what it seemed. She made her life out to be something it wasn’t. No one knew about her childhood. No one knew about her depression. No one knew how many times she wanted to die, but didn’t have the guts to make it happen. What he didn’t know was that her life was a lot more complicated than what it seemed. What he didn’t know was that she was incapable of being loved. Every guy that has come along has tried and left. She knew she was a lot to handle. She tried to make it easier, but insecurities could have killed her. What he didn’t know was that she was incapable of being loved. What he didn’t know was that she loved him. He couldn’t tell by the constant phone calls, constant text messages, tweets, and snapchats. He couldn’t tell by how she always wanted to be with him. He couldn’t tell by her always wanting to touch him, to be held by him, to be kissed by him. He couldn’t tell by her smile. What he didn’t know was that she loved him. She thought he was different. She thought that they were different. What she didn’t know was he was the same, and so was she. What he didn’t know was he couldn’t handle her, and she told him so.
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10
I kinda wanna watch the Dead Poets Society and cry some more                                                   and feel ok about myself             and stop feeling so lonely inside my own head all the time and all the pain I've experienced, and all the pain everyone experiences, and all the hate and all the evil and all the betrayals and all the               mad strangeness all the dead end moments spent thinking                            'it's about to happen' with that little up-euphoria and a cup of hottie coffee only to have it sink again when it's all an                                                                             unrealized dream                for                                no                                                         reason and all the                                                       distance                                                                                                  all the facebooks                                                                                   all the tumblrs     all the snapchats                       all the xanax                                                               all the drugs all the                                                                          sobriety all the                                                  'maybe tomorrows'                     all the                                                                                                                           'one days'                                           I CAN'T EXPLAIN IT all the banks                          and                                   all the houses all the flowers looking nice and the niceness looking not so nice so the              niceness              of         the        flowers                                                   ain't                                                        so                                                                 nice                                             all the jobs and                                                                            all the laundry all the money all the lies all the painful honest                                                                                truths   all the cellphones and water and the fridge,                       in the quiet,                     humming                                                  humming humming         humming
0
Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 7:04 PM UTC
robin, title, words
I kinda wanna watch the Dead Poets Society and cry some more                                                   and feel ok about myself             and stop feeling so lonely inside my own head all the time and all the pain I've experienced, and all the pain everyone experiences, and all the hate and all the evil and all the betrayals and all the               mad strangeness all the dead end moments spent thinking                            'it's about to happen' with that little up-euphoria and a cup of hottie coffee only to have it sink again when it's all an                                                                             unrealized dream                for                                no                                                         reason and all the                                                       distance                                                                                                  all the facebooks                                                                                   all the tumblrs     all the snapchats                       all the xanax                                                               all the drugs all the                                                                          sobriety all the                                                  'maybe tomorrows'                     all the                                                                                                                           'one days'                                           I CAN'T EXPLAIN IT all the banks                          and                                   all the houses all the flowers looking nice and the niceness looking not so nice so the              niceness              of         the        flowers                                                   ain't                                                        so                                                                 nice                                             all the jobs and                                                                            all the laundry all the money all the lies all the painful honest                                                                                truths   all the cellphones and water and the fridge,                       in the quiet,                     humming                                                  humming humming         humming
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47
goofball since i could first strike a one-liner destined to be the fat, funny kid from the age of ten. and that's great i can float wherever i want popular kids laugh just as hard as the weird ones but try and tell people the terrible unspeakable things that happened to you and they laugh all the same fine-tuned to only hear jokes leaving your garish mouth. i have to turn **** and divorce and abandonment and growing up too fast and taking care of everyone when all i want to do is come home and sit on a nice couch with christmas lights while my mother makes christmas cookies and gives me robes and socks and hugs and perfume for no ******* reason i want that so ******* bad but all i can do is make a joke about it because that's all you want to hear from me the fat, funny kid who lives to make everyone smile so i can for a little while but there are ugly, sad things inside of me that rip through my quiet moments when i'm not making a joke about **** - a real story masked with comedic error - the ugly parts sit on my chest and breathe into me while you like my posts on facebook and laugh at my silly snapchats.
0
Dec 19, 2016
Dec 19, 2016 at 1:15 PM UTC
the sad part about being the funny kid
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by Snapchats, left swipes, number of likes and screen-lit nights Destroyed by 4 second nudes and the two buttons that make 4 seconds infinite By searching amazon prime for a suicide prevention kit By taking one sip too many and ending the night with plenty of tounges down your throat By Geebs with too much milk, opinions stronger than silk Both good yet impressionable and easy to lose control By LED light seeping into the numb soul of the follower searching for love on Google Destroyed by the vibration of a body-count notification Destroyed by that first battery-powered rip, desperate for a trip thats not to the therapist Desperate to feel addiction, the need for need combined with heriditary greed Addiction lowers suicidal thoughts, craving the next day to take your next shot Shots of ***** shots of hate, shots at children, all shots are great We feel alive when we hear about death, we finally appreciate oxygen breath Destroyed by the friendships lost over hillary vs donald Waiting for the day we get old, so that we have a say & we’ll look back and realize these are suppossed to be the good old days The days spent sitting in metal chairs next to the boy with pot-smelling hair Destroyed by the fear of never being enough because college prep means you are on track And on track means you’re two steps back The princible said “cover up” to the girl with the huge rack Every eye that is layed on you is a personal attack Behind the scenes of these ************* memes is self deprication and pain that we somehow all relate to Waiting for the iphone x to come out so that we can feel brand new Destroyed by depression becoming the media’s new obsession Destroyed by the inability to jump into a TV screen and live a different life Destroyed by your ****** up families strife The ‘correct’ kids words cut like a knife Destroyed by the fact that there is not enough beer in the world to drown all your fear About the fact that your stuck in high school for at least another year
0
Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 8:16 PM UTC
I Saw the Best Minds of my Generation...
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by Snapchats, left swipes, number of likes and screen-lit nights Destroyed by 4 second nudes and the two buttons that make 4 seconds infinite By searching amazon prime for a suicide prevention kit By taking one sip too many and ending the night with plenty of tounges down your throat By Geebs with too much milk, opinions stronger than silk Both good yet impressionable and easy to lose control By LED light seeping into the numb soul of the follower searching for love on Google Destroyed by the vibration of a body-count notification Destroyed by that first battery-powered rip, desperate for a trip thats not to the therapist Desperate to feel addiction, the need for need combined with heriditary greed Addiction lowers suicidal thoughts, craving the next day to take your next shot Shots of ***** shots of hate, shots at children, all shots are great We feel alive when we hear about death, we finally appreciate oxygen breath Destroyed by the friendships lost over hillary vs donald Waiting for the day we get old, so that we have a say & we’ll look back and realize these are suppossed to be the good old days The days spent sitting in metal chairs next to the boy with pot-smelling hair Destroyed by the fear of never being enough because college prep means you are on track And on track means you’re two steps back The princible said “cover up” to the girl with the huge rack Every eye that is layed on you is a personal attack Behind the scenes of these ************* memes is self deprication and pain that we somehow all relate to Waiting for the iphone x to come out so that we can feel brand new Destroyed by depression becoming the media’s new obsession Destroyed by the inability to jump into a TV screen and live a different life Destroyed by your ****** up families strife The ‘correct’ kids words cut like a knife Destroyed by the fact that there is not enough beer in the world to drown all your fear About the fact that your stuck in high school for at least another year
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29
Eating goldfish when watching movies When my dad says he's proud of me When I get reassuring hugs from friends When I have a laughter filled day Late night conversations, and cute snapchats Racing and beating the boys in PE Looks flashed from down the halls When we sing and she plays guitar at lunch Goosebumps from listening to a song The thought of fall approaching
0
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 11:57 PM UTC
I love:
Two islands far apart Trying to connect across the world My eyes met hers As I notice his Fireworks blossomed roses Butterflies fill my heart Spotlights shine on her beauty He’s the only target I would hit Snapchats in a bottle The dove carries bitmojis Wanting to come closer to her Escape my own fear to see him Chopping down the timbers of loneliness My cupid shows me the path Closer with every move I make Skinship comes natural Two sides of one heart unite We flutter in sync Hand in hand intertwine Building endless strength to the Arches of Love
0
Jul 15, 2017
Jul 15, 2017 at 10:33 PM UTC
Arches of Love
lip syncing snapchats lyrics that might be a clue... but probably not.
0
Nov 18, 2018
Nov 18, 2018 at 9:16 PM UTC
haiku