If you could see me now you could see me take a deep breath. You have to understand that there’s part of me that sweats behind the eyes, a stolen mind, I am dying but I have never once greeted death.
When I was little I knew – or at least thought – I could sing to the wind. My voice would be lost to it, but I could make the trees flick like a switch. In my mind, they fell and crushed my home, in my mind.
I grew up. I am, on the surface, ordinary, I have to explain this to you. As a preface, only airy, I’m not well-thought-through, I am a kind girl with butterflies and buttercups.
I grew, and when I was twelve I walked into a bathroom I thought I would never leave. I couldn’t answer a question on a quiz, but also they hit me and my friends said that I could die, they didn’t care what I did. I always was a mess, wore my heart on my sleeve?
I stopped singing long ago, but that’s not extraordinary, we all give up on dreams. I dreamt once I was crushed by a giant caterpillar in a plane, so I wrote it and they mocked it and called it a shame. Less poetically, they called me a bitch, but to them I was a game, maybe cut me down by any means, maybe not all was what it seems.
Because I wake up on a Sunday morning, and wish I had stayed in that bathroom, for I am not in France, with bottles and gowns, on a balcony. That afternoon, I realize that that dream was the best thing I have ever had and I will never have more, and I sing and pray a tree fell onto me.
My friends hate the way this world is, and I am in more love with the sky than with my girlfriend, and I am glad I am not dead but I wish for a better story.
I am eaten alive by caterpillars claiming to be butterflies. I can’t be in school, can’t be walking, can’t be with friends, can’t be alone. I am less in love with life and love and highs, than the old life lingering up in the skies. Less of the living, more of the lies.
You’d swear this was a war diary, as if I’m breathing lime. Perhaps I am. I am a ship lost at sea never once meeting the harbour, since a girl without means is like a knight without armour.
I long for a life that thrives on kindness, and namely, danger. I love scum-filled streets coated in men in black boots and yellow teeth. I love velvet-coated figures who give bread for parts of threaded hearts. I love this world like a brother, but maybe not in my relation with it, maybe I just need another.
I’m sorry this is messy, I don’t know what else to say. My heart thumps as I write, songs play into me as if it were a fight. Maybe I’ll walk out of that bathroom back in time and be lead to another day, not the mess breathing fire or lime, as for who I am must stay away, for this horrid world is but a hollow climb, and for all they do, they do urge a pay. I am a mess, I am sublime.
Silence, the mind at peace, the mind working on its own.
The mind given the chance to think, examine and tell you it’s own judgements.
The problems it tells you, with no support you are all alone.
Silence, the mind scanning every inch of your skin telling you right from wrong.
Every bump, every lump. Every bit even the worst of people can not see.
The mind can control what you hear in the silence, hitting you like a gong.
Silence, the chance the mind can distort what you see.
Telling you you’re not perfect nor worth it. Changing the sun to rain in seconds.
It says you are not the models people desire, you have never been and never will be.
Silence, the time your mind does not care.
The time it tells you that you are not the pretty friend, that no boy will ever look past the fact that your thighs touch and you are not toned.
The mind letting you know that you can not fit into the clothes they wear.
Silence, the time you can change it all.
When the volume picks up you can leave it all behind.
Every comment disappears and you hide them with a smile.
You know they will all be back when you climb into bed. But for now, you stand up tall.
Since 1st year I wanted to cut my hair
I was told it would make me “look like a boy”
“wouldn’t suit me” and that “I would regret it”.
I didn’t listen.
Summer of 2nd year came and I cut my hair.
The best decision that I could’ve made
At 15 years of age.
Finally seeing My reflection
when looking in a mirror
But still, people feel the need
To tell me, what I did was wrong,
That I don’t look like a girl,
That my long hair was better
That I should grow it out
Why does it matter to them?
It should be my hair and my decision.
People need to stop, stop and think
What if it was you,
How would you feel if I told you
That what finally feels like you
Doesn’t fit society’s expectation.
That there are two genders, boxes
And you’re a freak ’cause
You don’t fit in either.
Life is really tough most of the times,
Lately things that could have went wrong did,
From friendships to relationships,
Girlfriend and friend both have a similarity,
They both end,
One can bring another to the finish,
Not in my case,
In my situation,
They both opened new meaning to friend,
Friendships can become stronger,
May even become unbreakable,
Through the hard times people may have,
Their friendships can only have two outcomes,
They become either healthier,
Or they could go in the opposite direction,
And come to an end,
If a friendship has come to the finish line,
Both people may regret their decisions,
Many regret nearly instantly,
But many do not have regrets,
From my experiences,
Do not break your friendships,
Even if it is because of an object,
Or even a person,
No matter what happens,
You will find a way to prevent the disaster.
Don’t Read Out Loud
When you’re struggling with pain,
There’s only so much you can gain.
Before struggling your emotions,
Like water down a drain,
You can show me your wound,
In your efforts to heal.
But that’s not a way of changing how I feel.
I’m sick of the double standard
All of us constantly slandered
Made to feel success is hampered
The game is fixed, the game is tampered
By society’s templates of who we are
Images that leave a scar
Plastered all over billboard ads
Fooled by this week’s latest fad
Errin Lee Mitchell
Plastic people are judging you
For what you are wearing
They are slagging for you caring
They are saying you’re a freak
For not fitting in
They say that being unique
Is a plastic sin
They know nothing
I’m better off talking to a bin!
Plastic people are no fun
They act real nice like a chocolate bun
Behind your back they are chatting slack
They never take the same clothes of their back
Plastic people are fools
They are as much fun as a tool
Poem about WiFi
I underestimated how much you meant to me.
Now that you’re gone I feel lonely as can be.
I can’t believe this day has come.
I feel so stupid and really dumb.
Rest in peace, you will be missed.
See ya later school WiFi.
Differences are what’s common between everyone,
Everyone is different,
No one is the same,
Yet without argument,
Everyone strives to be just that,
No one strives to be different,
This paradox feeds inequality and exclusion of others.
The cliques and groups within schools,
The partners and classes of life
All different, but filled with the same
Without change of this state of mind
Togetherness we will not find.
I’m heading to the track, pain in my back
I make it to the line, feeling fine
I look to the right, he wants a fight
We start the race, only I’ve got the pace
I knew they were fools, they run like tools
I collected my medal, got to the car to put my foot on the pedal
I’m going home, looking like a tomb
The Sunday Game
Sunday came with grey clouds of rain.
Room full of nerves thinking about the win we deserve.
Boots all clean but not for long, head held high hope was strong.
The ref was late what a disgrace.
Huddled in a group like one big troop giving words of wisdom.
Half time came it was a close game.
We dug deep to make up for us falling asleep.
10 minutes to go were all feeling low.
We thought hope was gone til a sub ran on.
It was all tied up til the very last puc.
The last point was scored but there was time for no more.
We had a lot of fun when we found out we won.
Hesitating, saying you couldn’t do it.
Sometimes you hate to bite the bullet.
You should do what you want, don’t be shy.
When you’re in your grave, you’re just another dead guy.
Never say never because if you don’t try,
You won’t last forever.
What I’m tryna say, is if you don’t cooperate,
We’ll never get along on this escapade.
Jack Lehane & Ryan Burke
The school is a joke.
There’s only one decent bloke.
We’ve been here four years,
And we’ve never drank beer.
The school is so cold.
The canteen has mould.
We can’t wear a fleece,
To be warm in peace.
The canteen smells like cheese.
Can I go home now please?
Sarah, Jenna, & Becky
He’s looking for a scrap,
I think I’ll hit him a rap.
He falls to the ground,
Gone asleep, sweet and sound.
I go back into the bar,
After the gold old spar,
I grab myself a drink,
Give the woman a wink.