Dont Scream, Emo Kid! or Don't Scream Emo Kid

Don't scream emo kid
about the words that just fell from your head that I was only try'n to talk about not toss em out and make you say I don't take constructive criticism well in public and I laughed and shivered inside cuz my words about your words made words come out of your mouth to stop me from changin your emotions and I never saw the internal commotion comin cuz I'm just the first responder to words versus emo kid collisions. I can't sew my thoughts to your words unless I have permission So this collision I leave alone as I leave alone and wander home and think about my collision with your beautiful fragility. I assumed (ass) you trusted me and maybe you (amazing) will and maybe your hair hangs in your face for a reason I ain't see'n and it's ironic how your wispy bangs make me blind and if emo means you feel and love and care and flush red with emotion then I am emo and I do scream and I scream to you and with you and at you and we all feel the feelings of the wheel at once and it's a rush to be alive.

Your words splashed on me

the Room

where everything thats anything is thrown out the window
where all thats left isnt whos who but who can express
where all our heartaches dont vanish but are announced
where the paper is our refuge and the pen (not pencil) is our sword
where we connect through our words not through our actions
where we try to change the lives of those sitting in rickety desks nearby
where we do change the lives of those nearby but never seem to notice
where we become humans
with tears
with anger
with stomach aching laughter
where we learn to kick a**

My Dearest Peaches,

I long to see your beatiful figure. Your eyes are but brightly colored planets in the darkness that is my heart. I crave you flowing locks of blonde bueaty more than ever now. My dreams are fantasies of us under the moonlite sky spending an eternity together. Oh peaches, my sweet peaches, when I bite into you I just want more. Your fuzzy exterior that makes me all warm inside. Juices flowing and tasting of pure exstasy in my mouth. So much it's hard to swallow, and not want another bite. My longing for you is making me crazy, come home to me my sweet daisy. Without you my soal is filled with dark coal. Please come back to me and light that candle, because the butterflies in my stomach are to much to handle. That taste gives me a tingle, even more than when we dress up and you call me Chris Cringle. Im enfatuated with your pits, and if you don't come home soon it will be tough to stop throwing these fits. At night as I lay awake I think about you and you orangish glow, waiting for you to come home so we can put on a show.

Yours Forever,
Chris Cringle

Quote of the Month
"You would think after 3 years they would have paper with them but no, no paper only visine."

I wish you could all see...

the smile on my face right now. I love all your writing. I'm inspired. All the thoughts that have settled in my head will soon make their way to paper...

simply life

Playing footsie with you. Seeing and smiling and giggling like a little girl. Poking and tickling and holding hands. Talking mushy and flirting like shy little fourth-graders, gazing into the sunset over mountains and green hillsides with purple flowers and yellow daisies. Beautiful flowing dresses and formal tuxes, dancing nights away and sleeping in til 12. Boyfriends and girlfriends and little kiddies telling you how you look. Asian food and stomach aches, the heat of all the bodies rising like the sun. Blue skies and yellow-red-orange leaves falling, drifting downwards, pulled by gravity and pushed by the wind. Barbeques and making apple crisps, Sunday dinners with ice cream and cookies. Piano movers and clang-clanging of the keys and the sing-song of a rhythmic melody. Free-style ballet dancers and nannies taking you to Coney Island a week before it opens. Little conversations of 3-year-olds that make you smile and amaze you because they're so smart. Cousins and brothers and sisters and camping in a not-so-camping atmosphere. Riding the rtd and going to baseball games with the best friends you never knew you had. Living life and loving yourself.

when push comes to shove

I do not know if I will ever find the courage in this life to give voice to these many thoughts and ideas which swirl around in my mind like so many thousands of pebbles on a beach being kicked and moved and changed. For every tear you cry in a lifetime, there will be a smile and a happy day to counteract and erase it. Every time you hear somebody say It's never going to get better, know in your heart and soul that it will, it must. If your glass is always half full, there will be more to drink and some left over for your neighbor. Should you choose for your glass to be half empty, chances are, you will die of thirst like you were in the desert with great pools of water all around but from which you refuse to drink because you cannot move from that place where you are comfortable, safe. Take risks, get hurt, and try again. Failure comes not from falling down, but from staying down. It's okay to cry, but cry those bittersweet tears knowing that you will one day conquer the world. Spend more time with yourself, get to know you so that when you are challenged by somebody who does not know you; does not know themselves, you will be the one to call a bluff and than you will never doubt you. You are you and the only thing that can and will ever change that is you.

"Goddess"

The dreamers dream
The singers sing
The cowboys roam
But what do I do
I do everything for I am
the Goddess who shows you the way.

How do I....

I don't know where to start, I'm not sure how this goes, so maybe just...hello? Hello there and how are you? and all the other small talk that people do. Well it seems we're past that now, so what to do, do I tell you how I'm in love with you? Or is it too soon, would you be scared? If I don't tell you am I lying? To myself, maybe, just not to tell but I guess it's okay because I wouldn't want to chase you away with these words and thoughts that swirl through my head like a whirlwind that never ceases, never ends. Day and night I think of you, not in a weird or crazy way but maybe would it seem like that to you? I only want to see your smile, smell your cologne, try to describe all the colors and emotions that cascade through your eyes those eyes that show me your soul, betray your words of maybe this and probably that and I'm not sure but maybe not. I could sit next to you and be content, and maybe? just maybe we could hold hands. Not just for now but for tomorrow and the next tomorrow and every one to come, could you be with me? Or would you only see what I am not and who you wish I could be? Will I fade away like an old snapshot of someone who once was but now has moved on? Do these questions and wonderings make me seem so insecure that you're not sure if I'm what you want because maybe I wouldn't ask if you would only tell. Or show. Show and tell. Like that famous day in kindergarten when everyone ooh's and aah's and you feel like the coolest kid around like you've had your 5 minutes of fame, and the world can't take it away. You can't take away how I want to hold you, know you, love you. Are we fading away? I'm not sure now what to do, so maybe, again.....hello?

Love is...

this is a poem that i had published two years ago.

Love is... Looking into a person's eyes and seeing their soul,
Longing to talk with them to take away the pain,
Offering them your everything, hoping they'll understand,
Wishing for that day, clinging to the few hopes that still remain.

And love is…
Wanting nothing but the best for them,
And crying yourself to sleep knowing it might not be,
Longing to open wide your heart to them,
In hopes that one day they'll understand and see.

Love is...
Those words you whisper as you lay yourself to sleep,
And smiling as you think of them, knowing they're by your side,
Those lonely tears that fall from your eyes,
Knowing there is no longer anywhere to hide.

And Love is…
Confessing every feeling that lays buried deep within,
And fully knowing no words could describe how you truly feel,
The pain and hurt you feel, knowing it means nothing,
To you, these deep emotions I hold, will never truly be real.

Love is…
Willing to give all you have for one small chance
Staking your life on its uncertainty,
Laying your heart open freely before their searching eyes,
Loosing this deep powerful feelings ...letting your soul free.

Shut Up & Write

I'm excited to begin this next step in writing. Take time to explore and read some of the writing by previous writers. You can post fiction, non fiction, poetry, journal entries, thinking on the page, artwork, opinion writing, lyrics, prose, and comments. Avoid posting about religion, politics, illegal behavior, and anything you wouldn't share with your mom, dad, or police. Don't post links or ask for feedback on your writing. Your peers will give you feedback as they wish. Don't come here for validation. Come here to express yourself and explore the ideas of your peers. Challenge yourself. Use big words. Use shiny words. Be bold. We can write about anything in a tactful way (except the above mentioned). Write about your experiences, your passion, your fears, love, friendship, society, and the countless other cool topics.

Shut Up & Write

Lloyd

Senior pic

Pensive & wistful

For all the Leybas out there!!!

" I believe the road to hell is paved with adverbs, and I will shout it from the rooftops. To put it another way, they're like dandelions. If your have one on your lawn, it looks pretty and unique. If you fail to root it out, however, you find five the next day... fifty the day after that... and then, my brothers and sisters, your lawn is totaly, completely, and profligately covered with dandelions. By then you see them for the weeds they really are, but by then it's-- GASP-- too late."

---Your homie Stephen King

It's been a while

I just want to say that this class was the funnest writing class i've had.

Where my peeps at?

Like I said... where my peeps at!? I need some writing entertainment... some creative, soul touching writing man. Essays are getting old. Even though, I admit, some are good.

Stalking my memory

His soft mutter
screamed uncertainty in my ears,
Despite his unobtrusive tone.
Startled by my stare,
his legs crossed paths of confusion out the door.

Gawking at his cheap rubber shoes,
Invaded my conscience with tar.
The cloudy image of
His tousled brown hair,
Revealing only his painful eyes.
Twisting reality for sympathy,
Alleviating tension
By placing
Our hearts and his swords between our spoken word.
Flattery was his intent,
Though nailed me with sorrow.
Puzzled and distressed,
Humans wore masks,
And I was complete
With everything …
He lacked.
And his internal attack,
Punctured my guilt.
My kind words and nods,
Slaughtered his
Last hope.

… his mutter reminded me,
To remember -means you forgot.
Though he stuck with me
Because I never could relate to his pain.

CaitlynCaitlynCaitlyn

CaitlynCaitlynCaitlynCaitlynCaitlynCaitlyn
LeybaDumbLeybaDumbLeybaDumb
SoSorrySoSorrySoSorry
ShameSadShameSad
NeverAgainEver
ISwear
Sigh
I

BooksCoffeePens

I left some title ideas under Molly's post. How much time has to pass before you guys stop calling me Leyba?

Any books?

Leyba, Caitlyn, Sara (Leah I talk to you all the time... I'll ask in person)

Have any of you read any great books lately? I have not had the time to read lately (damn work...) but I finally picked up a book I started in February on vacation. It's been a while- but I would like to start reading a lot again, I miss it. Any reccomendations?

My pen is dusty

Hey. I'm so pleased to find you writing here. Man, I love that. I'm not surprised at all to see who is writing and reading here. I love you people. VanZant, sell everything you own and buy paper. Caitlin, I feel like a stalker when I read your words. Molly, you dress secrets in sheer clothing. Leah, show em what you got! I'm reading but not writing much and I am motivated after reading you guys. Shut up and write.

lloyd

no name game

She asked if we've all felt the knocking urge
to shed off our concerns
and reveal our spirit.
We all want to,
There is no need to wait.
Stand up and dance.
Now is our time.
But this girl remained nailed to her seat,
dissimilar to the crowd
because she knew the ones who danced,
stood in twos for a reason,
and those who need to release the poison of uncertainty,
sit and shave off their intentions,
perpetuating the tradition of conformity,
while pounding on their tattered souls,
by simply sitting down.
While the guy in green races around,
dancing his spirit into seizures,
because he loves the adrenaline;
The people dancing in twos
do not lend him one eye.
And the girl sits while her mind is dancing
around her missing identity.
She wanted to dance solo,
but her thoughts drowned the song.
Thinking is her addiction.