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 May 14 Nobody
Liana
It feels great to be unique
It feels beautiful to be special
But being one of a kind
Is so lonely

Can there please be at least one other person in this universe
That's like me?
Can we be two of a kind together?
Just one...
Please

I've had enough of this
I just need ONE other person
I hate this compliment
 May 6 Nobody
Roxy
I've learned one truth the hardest way,
It's harsh, I will admit:
Good girls, they never go to Hell,
They live in it.
My heart beats
beats                                       BEATS               beats
            beats  beats                    BEATS
       BEATS                          beats                BEATS
an unrhythmic beat

Just a sip
and my heart wants to skip
a couple of pumps
and add a couple of thumps

I bought myself a cup
just to keep up with the lecture
but now with this unrhythmic   beat   beat          beat
I’m wishing I’d skipped the caffeinated treat.
Caffeine has been giving me heart palpitations and I have no idea why, but it’s actually awful. I’ve been drinking coffee since I was a toddler, aren’t you meant to build a tolerance?? My only other choice is falling asleep in class…
My silence isn’t voluntary
And my tears aren’t a choice

I don’t cover my ears for attention
And it’s not that I’ve lost my voice

There’s millions of words running laps in my head
And my hearts pumping for a marathon

My medullas pumping epinephrine
And box breathing can’t get past one

And you’re staring straight at me
And blaming me for being dramatic and weak

I really wish I could do this,
I’m sorry I’m like this
I swear I didn’t choose to be like this,
I’m sorry I can’t just ******* speak.
My therapist gets mad when I can’t talk in sessions because I literally just shut down every time… which prevents me from talking.
Same thing with my parents every time they confront me.
Hahh so fun.
Hah hah hah
Isn’t it funny

Funny how everything kind of *****
And we’re stuck in the same repetitive loop

Every day and every day and every day
And we’re constantly just working towards another repetition,
Another drain, more work,
And it never stops, does it?
No, it never stops

Because even in the intermissions
Your mind never stops
It never stops
You’ll never stop thinking thinking thinking
About everything, everything
All at once
All the time

And nothing nothing nothing
Because you’re truly are insignificant, aren’t you?
Isn’t this all insignificant in the end?
Yes, you lead a truly insignificant life.
Over 35,000 people are born every day,
About 100 billion people have died since the world began

Too much, much too much, and yet not quite enough
Not quite enough, no
It’s never enough
Never enough

You’re not enough
You’re nothing, remember?
Remember remember remember remember remember remember?

Remember, this is funny,
Because its all just a big ******* joke
Yeah, you’re a joke!
You’re so so funny, and you’re so so laughing right now.
No difference between laughing with or at, right?
Laughing and crying, am I right? Theres no difference

No difference
No difference
No difference

Remember, yeah?
Remember you can make that number about 100 billion and 1.
It’s funny because it’s true.
Inspired by Alice Oseman’s Solitaire
Your eyes

Look like stars

When you cry


Your tears,

Are like meteorites

Flashing by your cheeks



Oh how pretty you are—
When you cry….


My little star-tear eyes
 May 5 Nobody
badwords
I’ve left the oven on
for years.
Somewhere between metaphor and meaning,
something’s always been burning.

But no one’s eaten in a while.

They called it voice.
I called it
a slow confession wrapped in rhyme.
A sugarcoated breakdown.
Something easy to swallow
if you didn’t read too carefully.

They wanted brevity.
I brought blood.
They wanted truth.
I brought formatting errors
and a whisper shaped like static.

Do you remember the one
with the anti-light?
No?

Of course not.
You don’t remember the one who screamed last.
You remember the one who rhymed "heart" with "start"
and got 200 likes for it.

Now my name is on the box
but it’s spelled wrong
and the font is smiling too hard.

The cookies still crumble
but no one eats the edges.
That’s where the poison is.
That’s where I lived.

So I’ve folded the apron.
Swallowed the last word
before it could become a quote.

Let the gods of good taste keep their ovens.
Let the algorithm rot.

I’ve got shoeboxes full of unsent stanzas
and no more hunger
for applause shaped like echo.
Do better.
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