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clenching stomach shaking bones watery eyes runny nose weak knees sore throat all beautiful gifts an addiction bulimia
I am no one special You are no one special Most people can’t handle that Can you? Kissed a guy in his 20s She was 17
Turn the splinters into dust underneath a white sky. For centuries, I waited upon the one that can see pass the lies. Now that I have them here and so very near, The grips of my hands won't leave the shelter of my home.
I see a Diaspora set in motion. I see it in the refugees that swarm shores only to be pushed away. In their hands held palms up, A backpack strapped tight, and a lost childs toy. Syria is the new victim.
From the street sirens to the gun shots, she was there. From the morgue to the funeral she was there. All I see are dark skinned mothers having to be resilient. While the father and son are gone,
after a dose of His word, everything else feels lesser. like plastic or weightless. it feels frail and meaningless and my interest in it lasts long enough for me to pick it up then toss it down.
The tears she cries are not the good ones She was not just someone I dont know how it slipped my mind She was always so kind How was i supposed to know She was slowly letting go
The wind will blow away my sin Copper devils wait in the tall grass I walk on doves feet across the clouds Fallow my feelings little fish Sing about rain I sometimes wish I was a monster
Screaming bloody murder, but no one can hear the cries Cannot hold on forever, can hardly put up a fight Locked inside a cold room, lying on the hard floor Beaten in the gloom, here be he prisoners of war
Don't be a brat! BAM BAM Stop being stupid! BAM BAM You need to learn! BAM BAM Don't fucking talk to me!
Hearing the screaming and shouting in my house, I don't know what to do but grip my blouse. I used to think "This is where it all ends", But I looked past that and started to ascend.
I Wish I wake up and dress my face up in camoflague to protect me My true values bottled up from my adversaries Skeptical whether not to expand my horizons
Sir no sir. Please leave me alone sir. Let me sleep sir.. This isn't rite please don't touch me.... I'm only 11; you're 50..
Its not my fault mom didn't love you
Sick heart, dripping with gasoline, fueled by the cigarettes thrown like darts the whip’s bullseye that tore her apart, innocent and caged, helpless to cleanse itself, gives in to the rage,
Teenagers can be cruel They can take something so innocent and beautiful and ruin it They hurt people and do not even care I used to be proud of what I looked like
I don't remember I wish i could The love we shared In the woods
I would change If I could change women’s volleyball shorts. their function is fine, They fit the way they were designed to I am able to dive, hit pass and spike in them.
I'm a 17 year old girl from Brooklyn. When I tell people that I don't say it with a smile. Instead I frown. I look down at the ground that I walk on everyday in Brooklyn I fear for my generation
Falling fast and falling away Wishing, Wanting and Hoping to Stay Wishing you could take back the lie Wishing you didn't have to cry Wanting to erase your tears Wanting to no longer fear
I force down another bite Pack on another pound My friends push me to the edge “You’re pretty, but much to skinny.” So I eat and eat and eat Not because I’m hungry But ashamed of what I’ve become