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The High LifeBeing high is an experience that cannot be explained.
You have to take that hit to feel it yourself.
That overwhelming tingling sensation in every cell of your body,
It's like all of you is vibrating lightly.
That loss of control in your mind,
You think of something to say,
And end up saying something else and thinking
"Why can't I form a sentence?"
But on the outside your just giggling.
I would never promote the use of marijuana,
In fact, I hate the shit.
I hate not knowing what my brain will do next,
I hate not being able to control my hands,
Or my words.
I hate feeling like I'm constantly underwater,
Or maybe in a trance,
Like when you just wake up from a deep sleep and you aren't concious yet.
It's kind of like that,
But for hours.
Then when you come off the high,
You wish you were right back on.
You feel tired,
Maybe even a little sick if you were that high.
When you're high,
You have no self control.
What's not to hate about myself.I am not skinny,
I am not tall,
I have acne,
I have a crooked smile.
I'm not always smiling,
And my hair can be a mess,
I'm not always liked,
I'm always stressed.
I have no real friends,
No one to be there for me,
I'm always ignored,
I always get asked to leave.
I'm not cared about,
By anyone else except my family,
Society sees me as a burden,
What's so wrong with me?
People say I'm fat,
I'm a bitch,
I'm a whore,
I'm too short,
I'm a whale,
I'm everything they hate.
So I guess if everyone hates me,
What's not to hate about myself?
I had to say hello.She was guarded, love never was an option. She was the woman alone at the cafe, her hair in a bun with glasses on.
No one bothered to say hello, until one day a young man walked by the cafe window and saw her sitting there, reading a novel in the sunlight. Somehow the light glowed off of her skin in such a way, that he had to say hello.
He turned right around and marched into that cafe and walked right up behind her. But he was frozen, she seemed so confident, so sure of herself sitting there with her mocha. He couldn't muster up the words to say to her, nothing seemed right.
He stood there for a good five minutes, she never noticed because she was so deeply engrossed with her novel.
Finally he felt that confidence she exuded hit him in a big wave.
"Fifteen seconds" he thought, "That's all I need to win her heart."
He sat across from her and looked at her gorgeous face. She was so plainly beautiful that it almost took his breath away. Her cheekbones held high upon her face, and her lip
All I have is silence. You always came back. After every fight, every stressful moment, every time. You always called me to say:
"Baby, I'm sorry. I don't like when we fight." Then we would talk about other things. You always would text me, or apologize. Or maybe forgave my apology when I gave one, which was often.
But this time feels different. It feels wrong.
Because after this fight I didn't get a call.
I didn't get a text.
I didn't get an apology, or forgiveness.
I got silence.
I feel numb. That expression people say "You never know what you have 'till it's gone" is so terribly true to me now.
I miss when you would make me smile, I miss hearing your voice, I miss our funny conversations.
I even miss our constant fighting, I always felt like no matter what we would fight for each other. Because we both cared about the other so m
I'd like to compliment that smile.He threw her away without a care,
Like the way you feel in the summer air,
Not a glance back,
He didn't care and that was a fact.
At first she had nowhere to go,
Her life dragging by so slow,
Then she found a lonely child,
Looking for a purpose or a smile.
She came on in,
Said "Hello my friend"
The child looked around,
But not a soul to be found.
He then saw a woman on the street,
She had confidence in her feet,
He brightened his frown,
And resembled a clown.
"Excuse me miss" He stuttered,
"But I wanted to compliment that smile" his heart fluttered,
The woman blushed,
"Thank you oh so much!"
They walked off together,
As she sat by with her eyes getting wetter,
"Why everyone else, but not me?" She groaned,
She felt she will always be alone.
Truly AloneLoneliness hurts.
I haven't felt truly alone for two whole years and then bam.
I walked alone through the halls, keeping my head down
Trying to hide my puffy eyes,
My red face.
I held my books close, and kept my hood up.
You never realize how alone you are,
Until your crying.
No one talks to you,
No one tries to hug you,
No one even looks at you.
Thats when you know that you have no true friends.
No one there to hold your hand and keep their shoulder open,
Just for your tears.
No one there to tell you its okay.
Thats the day I realized that I was all alone,
And after it was over,
I didn't trust any of my friends the same again.
Unable to loveMy love was pure
I only wanted
But my heart
Because my love
Like a piece of garbage
And now I'm unable
Because the shreds
Of my shattered soul
now i see the stars.there was a time when i
couldn't catch my breath whenever i
thought about you , (crippled lungs and-
boy, you hit me like an asteroid,
there's a crater on my chest now that I can't ever seem to fill,
oceans of my tears cried on
nights when you couldn't be there to sing me to sleep.
thirty two poemless days after you joined the constellations,
i walked out into the yard and howled to the empty sky,
for a moment i was Gaea, rivers running down my cheeks,
weighted to the ground and
buried in myself, but
where there is no light there are no shadows, and
sometimes, i wonder if i miss me.
yes, yes i do.
i may not see the moon, but
MathematicsI am but the sum of my
F L A W S;
a network of
S C A R S
a disaster of
D R E A M S
a shield of
B O N E S
C A L C U L A T I O N
a void of
to the girl i lose my words aroundi have been meaning to tell you for years:
i think you’re beautiful. i have
seen nothing on earth that holds a candle
to the ocean you carry inside your body.
it spills over your edges sometimes, like
a rain shower around you, blurring your penciled-in
lines until there is nothing left of you but your natural
cliffs, valleys, and deserts.
i like that.
i have never met someone who is, somehow,
a sea and a storm at the same time.
maybe i never will again.
maybe you are the only one
who gathers clouds on her forehead
like a promise, or feels the push and pull of the tide
with her every step.
you are beautiful, honestly.
you are honest, beautifully.
it is in the way you talk, the way you hold ice
on your tongue but forget to use it—
you always forget to use it, i don’t think
you know how.
to be truthful, i’m afraid of your smile
and how it breaks over me, how it pulls
me like a whirlpool down, how it pushes me
like a current back to the surface. i’m afraid of
i am made of nights like theseativan boy, you cannot empty out this skull -
not with a pen nor with a bullet. you can
be my hallowed head(case) for spitting out
words like teeth; oh, but i will only love you
when you're weary. i will keep crows caged
between your lungs like veins, like palpitations.
i will rot you through bones & car radios,
but i will never get (you) out of your skin.
ScienceI am more than my
F L A W S;
a masterpiece of
S C A R S
a delicacy of
D R E A M S
a sculpture of
B O N E S
R E A C T I O N
a well of
Abuse Is Sometimes NecessaryPush and pull at her long hair, topple her to the solid ground,
elbow her sharply in the raw gut, shove her harshly around.
Scratch him in the pale face, punch him in the broken jaw,
do anything necessary to him that's considered breaking the law.
And when she cries because you've punched her, let her be,
and observe her when she returns to her habitual smoking.
When she passes out next day, because she's drunken too much booze,
slap her in the face once more, though many would consider it abuse.
When he can hardly walk because he thinks he's high in the clouds,
rip the needle out of his arm, and with your nails, slash him across the sweaty brow.
Grab them and shake them till their battered and bruised,
tear at their heart, scream in their ears until you've reached the point of verbal abuse.
And when she falls into your chest, and he collapses to the ground,
pull them closely, and whisper, “We can turn this all around.”
And rehab is a necessity for all of you, because you'v
surgeryi promised not to scar
my skin. so i cut out my
brain and hurled it into
just like cancer, the worst of me is dead.
Good (Great, Greater, Greatest, You)Good (Great, Greater, Greatest, You)
I hope the title caught your eye,
because this is about you.
Many of us speak in superlatives
and ambiguous language.
In imagery-laden text masquerading
underneath double entendres
keeping us from a part of the truth.
But purple streaks and red bands,
harp strings and soft hands
don't begin to explain
the love I have for you.
So I lay these words down
simple in its vulnerability,
blemished and raw in its purity.
The term lissome fits you in many ways,
but not necessarily it its textbook form.
I speak on the part that is not readily seen
but what is easily most cogent.
Your consciousness' cognizance
is graceful in the way
you fold one syllable over
another, supple in its meaning
that can take many forms
going from idle lies
to how we idolize hollow eyes
and uncovered hip bones.
Elegance is an understatement,
but I refuse to speak in cliche superlatives.
I speak honestly
but not with exaggerated grandeur.
Because your immediate app
Today.Today I spent my lunch in a bathroom stall.
No one asked where I was.
No one asked if I was okay.
Today, I cried silently.
No one gave me a hug.
No one gave me a tissue.
Today I walked all alone.
No one said hello.
No one even looked at me.
Today I had to endure pain all by myself.
No one would have cared if I died or not.
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