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Grace Kay Jan 2017
I live for me

Not for him, not for her, not for them.
But for me.

You think I wear this dress to amuse you
**** right I do -
out of lack of self respect and self dignity

You think I say those things to impress you
**** right I do -
out of the love that is buried deep within my broken heart

You think I buy those gifts to please you
**** right I do -
out of the fear that I feel when I think of losing you to someone else

So I lied.

I told myself I lived for me,
the truth is that,
I live for you.
From the heart ❤️
Time.
It slips past us like sand slipping through the fingers of a child.
It holds our greatest wonders and our greatest fears.
"It will pass in time."
It is a consept of our minds.
The seconds turn to minutes the minutes turn to hours.
We can not grasp it.
Nor see it.
But it is something we live by.
Today you may have went to school.
Tomorrow you may go back.
But the next day you may not.
Time is never ending but always moving and changing.
It is time to say goodbye to this night and say hello to the following day.
I don't really know why I wrote this. But I did.
Emilia 6d
It is queer
The way that eyes blink out from the walls
yet still whilst I water them so
there screams are the loudest calls

It is queer
the way that the water flows up
Even when the bed is dry and the fish flop into the valley beside thee pond
despite being filled with wine, I can catch them in my late evening cup

it is queer
That this poem shall reach you
For where I reside cannot possibly be described
for the dank dark feald is oh so dry, I don't know how anything grew

it is queer
the concept of time
for in this place one may notice things
things that used to be fine

why, one fact that I truly find to be queer
is the state of thyn mind whilest you sleep
everything is turned on its head
and everything has landed in a heap

Why is it said that in thyns dreams
Thee must always be happy and gay
that there will be nothing said of demons
that it shall consist of unicorns and fae

And truly I say, that a common man's opinion on dreams
opinions that weren't even written in your year
can be seen by many and not called queer
that now it is called a song of the heart
and that is something that thee should forever hold dear
eclipso child Jul 2016
..mothaphuka..it's you again to shoot me down.. but I
               ain't mindin' at all..it's just the opposite..
       ..if it would be for me
                      to say..
      ..we would been married for years..
                 ..4ever lasting L-O-V-E..

even do ur just a consept..( but in flesh you shined trough all
with all of you pieces in ur puzzle that make u my entity)..

                ..and your been the best & hardest challenger that iv'e
ever had the pleasure to understand(some of it)..
                 ..your virginity keeps my steps going to the right

                                                            ..way..

& but actually there's no words..
                          ..to describe with something as fabricated..
Rebekah Apr 2018
“good things happen to good people”
I was told
For me such wonders were not so
For people stay
Yet they still fray
They forgive
Also no longer live
For me
I was taken
Taken advantage of
For him they consept
Of conterceptives
Didn’t apply
From his throat another lie
The one that said he “cared”
Not a gaze
Dreaming past my clothes
For him they became grave tolls
But that day he had to say
“Take it off”
Then the stop he did decline
Fist clenched
Hoping to make a vast fence
Pounding on his chest
Yet he did not rest
Pushing me down saying
“Don’t make a sound”
Turning my head
As I said “please stop”
But his frame remained dominate
Holding hips
Such hand never slip
As I pushed and pushed
But silence remained
His sweat dripping
My eyes slipped to a close
******* my lip
My soul he caught a sip
Taking part of me
You will never see
My pain nor claim
As I’m too scared to show
My neck bruised and claimed
I will never be the same
Skin unseenly stained
Again never the same
But a stain to stay
Never yet to fray
Not like a cast away hair
You may not see in a week
But for me it remains
All of the stains
It’s a dirt covering my skin
As it was a sin
But such a dirt never to be removed by soap
I try with the hope
It will leave
Never again worrying about my sleeves
Like a year long past
Hope this dread won’t be so
My story finally shared
Not for you to care
But to finally understand
Pain behind this story. Please help me improve it.

— The End —