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 Jul 2013 Zara
Gayatri
I Am......
 Jul 2013 Zara
Gayatri
I am like a gust of wind,
My temperament changes more often than expected,
I go here I go there my moods go everywhere,
from the peak of happiness to the pit of anger.
I can be a piece of work.
I am rebel of sorts the classic kind,
Dark and poetic a glitch in this time,
Wild and free yet so afraid of what awaits me and what's already there.
Ego lives within me its my partner in crime.
Never believe me when I say that I am fine,
It's a trick I play more often than not,
Its a lie, usualIy hide my Feelings and thoughts.
If you ever read my poems and stories you'd know,
I write of sad things and rain and snow.
What I write reflects but on my state of mind,
It's young and childish and emotionally blind.
 Jul 2013 Zara
Ann J
When I'm with you, I feel more like myself then with anyone else.
Like I'm the best version of myself.
Happy.
You make me want to tell you all my secrets.
Well, you make me comfortable,
enough to tell you
the things I hide from anyone else.
Somehow our weird friendship started to fill in all my cracks,
and all the holes my family has poked in me.
You made me feel less broken.
But little did I know,
I was making more cracks, more holes.
The way I feel about you,
makes me feel so empty,
so resoundingly hollow and alone.
Because every time you do something
that points out
how much I feel for you,
it reminds me.



how you don't feel the same.
She sees the pain around her,
and understand their fears.
She is far too conscious
of other people's tears.

She hurts herself to cope
with all of these sad stories.
She doesn't understand her thoughts
and is terrified of insecurity.

She learns her thoughts are normal,
and that she is far to kind.
She must not worry,
because her friends are not far behind.
 Jul 2013 Zara
maybella snow
on occasion                  
   i think i'm pretty
and i almost believe it too
then                                            
all the comments flash
all the looks                  
all the unkindness      
all the memories          
of being called  
fat, gross, ugly  
it hurts to add on
it hurts to think
because                            
you were the first
random person
the only person,
who didn't know me
an almost stranger
to call me beautiful

i can't help but wonder              
is it all a lie?
 Jul 2013 Zara
Jodie Bee
You are beautiful and sad
worn out at such a young age.
tired and bored and endlessly unsatisfied.
whether you're surrounded or alone
whether you're standing in front of a mirror
or    attempting to sleep  on your bed.

There are days you laugh at the silliest things and nights
you cry, because of nothingness.

And you know you're young, but you feel old.
and you feel you're growing old and youth is slipping away
from your finger tips.

"I wanna do so many things"
" I want to be happy"

you say, but you continue to stand move less.
are you a coward or perhaps a fool?
what are you doing here?
why do you continue to stay so, very sad?

I am not allowed to say  

"get over yourself"
"stop whining"

because you're depress aren't you?
special, more fragile.
because you are worthless.
and I am not allowed to say.
what you repeatedly say to yourself.

last night you wanted to die--
no one listened to you, no one understood you.
and no one will ever understand you, no one will ever listen

You want to get over yourself, but you can't.
and you chug another pill, maybe another one just in case.

But you see... the harsh truth is,
you are alone, you will always be alone.
and your parents will not understand you, neither your friends
and sometimes even you, yourself would not understand.
that is why, my dearest friend--

You must **** it up.
Get up. Grow.
Prove me wrong, that you're not worthless.
prove yourself wrong. That *
you can.
 Jul 2013 Zara
reenn
the only sound was the echo
of her own heartbeart
wind blew the smoked she puffed  
back to her face      
she watched the trees slowly
swaying to the wind
the whisper of leaves
rustling in the wind      

thoughts running thru her mind  
she couldnt think , she couldnt eat
her world had turned around      
something changed                    
nothing mattered , she felt appeased.
yet she spent restless nights , unable to sleep,  

for she was in love
 Jul 2013 Zara
Murphy
I wish you were a dinosaur, I could look but fear to touch
I wish you were a dinosaur so your kiss would be too much.
But to be honest, this is no test-
I wish you were a dinosaur because that's your wish.
Collecting those you please, I wish you nothing but success;
You'll be the King of the Plains like that T-Rex you claim is best.
Isn't this what you wanted? Look at me, your powerless crutch;
You herbivore beast with a carnivorous clutch.
But still I crave the days when your hand would hold my breast;
When we'd sink into the sheets like the sunset to the west.
Yet I'd never wish your dreams to be so close but out of reach;
Your tiny arms just long for love and one to teach.
I won't be fooled again despite my skin delicate and pale;
Your clutch just lost its strength, I always knew you were so frail.
I never mean to hurt you, but I'm sick of being a leech;
I've detached myself from you, no longer burning in the bleach.
So cheers, my friend, to all your wealth although you may not think,
You're still my favorite dinosaur, but alas you are extinct.
 Jul 2013 Zara
pandemonium
I took the train home today
although I was surrounded by the busy society
going about their day, I was alone
I had no one to call a company-
well, other than my phone
and also the 2 different people
who sat next to me through my journey.

I took the train home today
usually you would come with me
(I sat by myself)
we would sit on the 3-seater seat;
(I leaned with a sigh at the edge of the 4-seater)
2 for us and 1 for our bags
(just one for me and my bags on my lap)
you next to me, and our shoulders touching
(just my shoulder with a stranger and a glass pane)
we would talk about our week during college
(I mentally talked to myself about what happened)
we would flirt with humour and touch
(I stared into the distance imagining you here)
our stop-stations next to each other, yours first to leave
(I dropped off at a different station today)
you would get off and wave me goodbye until I'm out of sight
(I stared past your station with a lonely heart)
I would quickly get off on mine and text you I've arrived
(I walked out and stared at the train as it leaves)

I took the train home today
as I sat alone in my own little corner, I wondered
is it sad that our love is only true in the train we take?
If so, I will keep getting on our train
if it means you will come back
and we will relive our imagination
just us in our own little world.
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