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Magdalyn Jun 2014
This is no summer of love, life, or living
no stargazing, butterbeer-soaked movie nights at the library,
or calls from my private school friends
yet
just hours spent on the computer and worrying, simultaneously.
Putting on makeup blindly,
my glasses clipped onto my tank top
that's too tight to wear outside the house,
while songs play that take me back to the previous year,
when all I had was math corrections on the breakfast table at 7:00
while it snowed,
and the days we would just reel around, looking forward to class trips
and lock-ins
that consisted of running around
first on sunlit streets, and then
around the pitch-black halls of the empty school,
wary shrieks and giggles chasing each other in the air.
But now
I'm just leaning here on my bed, eyes tired and feet covered in blisters,
thinking that the next three sweat-and-sunscreen-filled months
are going to be anything but a vacation.
Magdalyn Jun 2014
What's with the roller-coaster
of anticipation and dehydration
that goes with these daily adventures?
Can't stop yelling, reliving the fact that normally
I would be sitting at home
listening to lorde and feeling sorry for myself
but instead I'm hazing in a land of
1/4 adults, all the rest
sugared-up, sunscreen-sweating, scream-yelling and cussing middleschoolers
with unlimited access to rides that makes our t-shirts see-through
and our hearts hide in our throats
from all the loud, loud music and words
that goes along with having packaged fun.
So while I'm sitting in a cracked leather seat
the metal bar indenting on my skin
and my glasses stuffed in my bra,
I remember to jus' remember
that middle school is one hell of a ride.
field trip.
Magdalyn Apr 2014
Walked into the bathroom, expecting to see the room crammed with girls
screeching, smiling at me, checking their foundation and wondering
why hasn't he flirted with me yet?
Instead, all that's left is the ten posters taped on the wall
with stock photos of black skirts
telling me the difference between wrong or long.
Yeah, there are no more mornings of waking up to the sound of
A Capella hymns and kids I've never met laughing at
things I've never said before
no more 5 'o clock practices full of winces, trips, laughing, sweating, and thinking
no more 7:30 pm concerts where
my heart bounces around like a dead animal
no control left, and
I'm running in the halls wearing black and white, but thinking gray
no more taco bell runs right after, when I'm getting cinnamon sugar on my skirt and counting measures in my head.
And certainly no more days of just sitting on the bleachers
my head and heart too full of sputters of laughter to worry
about whether my melody is correct.
Magdalyn Apr 2014
These days it's all greasy bangs, candy chapstick leaking onto my skin, and my deodorant sliding out from under the bathroom stall, no more
lorde songs playing from the radio, girl scouts singing in the backseat,
or
Magdalyn Feb 2014
Do you remember:
Watching Harry Potter and pretending the characters were our classmates,
while sitting on your couch eating Dominos,
the spices stinging my split lip.
Naming our sleepovers,
E-mailing "Jennifer is tomorrow".
Slurping mint Klondike bars in your hot tub,
Autumn rain pittering from the trees,
and playing truth-or-dare sitting in front of the jets.
Throwing your old toys in the road
and waiting for them to get run over
until my dad arrived.
Videotaping our feet
in the golden light
and the deleting them to save space
Walking to your house after watching "The video" at school
and giggling past the rivers of rust.

Honestly, I thought
we were going to be friends forever.
Magdalyn Jan 2014
Running.
Run across your street and mind
Take your memories cause I don't need 'em
but think of me

Scars to prove it, tears to fake it
Can you read my mind? No.
The time that towns forgot
Running through the street and running quickly through your mind

It's unfair

It's not love, it's just love.
One of many problems, many problems in one
Snipping out the bad parts,
pasting in the worser ones
Running from your problems back into
circle one
waiting for the ax to fall
and cut off my split ends.
Okay, so you can tell I'm a little sad.
Magdalyn Jan 2014
Are you happy that you've made me unhappy
talking about your bad days
and scars from them?
About how you could have
but you didn't and wish you did.
And I'm one of the reasons
I don't listen I just carry
the burden of being the only one who knows you're lost.
Your life is not bad through this orange looking glass
and you're just a sad and lonely kid
who refuses to be called emo.
Do you need words, or a hug, or what?
Because no matter how much you want to think
you can't be helped or fixed,
I was.
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