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 May 2014 Scatts
blankpoems
I like to write my name on a piece of paper over and over again
until it's messy enough that I forget who I am

Erasing the edges, smudging it out until my identity is nothing but a fast blur;
something that could only be noticed if you were looking for it-
something you would probably be disturbed to find anyways

Like when you're driving and you see an animal on the side of the road
and you have to pull over because it's your third week of being a vegetarian
and you almost have to force yourself to cry about it, but not quite

Or when you're cleaning your room and you find that old wooden box
you put your earrings in when you were seven years old
and now you're almost triple the age you were at that time
and you find those earrings, but there's only one of each so you put on mismatched ones
and cry yourself to sleep because you're missing parts of you that you thought would
always be there

"Mama said there'll be days like this,
there'll be days like this, my mama said"

On the messy days I like to forget who I am and pretend I'm still who I used to be.
 May 2014 Scatts
Matthew P Beron
6PM
 May 2014 Scatts
Matthew P Beron
6PM
The sun's not setting yet
but it's thinking about it
and the squirrel is chattering
and the people are walking
up and down the street
the girls in their skimpy shorts
and the boys in their saggy shorts
the wind blows the pages of the book
and I shiver just a bit
until I soak up the sun
again at 6 PM
 May 2014 Scatts
Claire Elizabeth
I didn't think my heart could feel the flutter of butterflies
But there it is
And I didn't suspect that my stomach was capable of holding more than water
But I can feel the anticipation there
I didn't predict that I could see myself with someone other than him
But there you are..
With your long hair at your eyebrows, curled and waved
And your delicate nose that looks fine ***** and pointed
With your smooth lips that can laugh as easily as smile
You complimented me on my Sleeping With Sirens shirt
I doubt I could forget that
You play jazz like I do, you wear the sweatshirt all the time
You speak so softly as if the words you say might shatter over my ears
You should stop
Because soft words make me fall in love
 May 2014 Scatts
kaitlyn-marie
when we left for the summer,
I suffered the heartbreak that is
associated with a break up and
a type of sadness that is only
associated with death.
I’m not sure how I got here.
 May 2014 Scatts
Demitra Avra
somehow he knew ever second of my day
every shape and curve i had to my name
the little spec outside the color of my eye
and the way my collarbones aligned
and he knew me from the outside within
he could tell you what was on my mind
exactly when id fall asleep at night
the perfect time to squeeze me while wrapped in his arms
he knew me
and the worst of all
he knew what would get me to break and fall
some certain words and id collapse aimlessly to the floor
he knew me in every inch and form
and somehow every little thing id done
he knew me well enough to know id fall
and he knew that enough that i wouldn't let go
that no matter what i'd love him after all
 Apr 2014 Scatts
G H Goodland
Sticks and stones my break my bones
but words may never leave me.
physical pain will always heal more quickly than words filled with bitterness, anger, and hate (we've all done it). Just try and think of the end result before speaking.
 Apr 2014 Scatts
anonymous999
sad
 Apr 2014 Scatts
anonymous999
sad
but not the crying kind of sad
the kind of laying in bed sad
where minutes turn into hours
and hours turn into days
that i haven't gotten out of bed
because there's no point
and no purpose
maybe in a different world
i'd be getting out of bed for you
but because of mistakes
and bad decisions
and calling it quits
far too early
im here
laying in bed
alone
and im sorry
feb 5th
 Apr 2014 Scatts
Alice Baker
You used to write about me,
Do you remember?
You compared my skin to satin
My voice to sirens,
My touch to heaven.
You must've thrown them all away
They're gone from your records.
Now you have a new muse.
And her skin is satin,
Her voice, of a siren,
Her touch is heaven.
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