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By Avika maybe if that mark bent a little to the left, i would feel happier.
maybe if its numbers decreased, i would feel better. maybe if i ate less and did more, i would be more successful maybe i wouldn't even need to suck it in or suck it up. maybe if that tape measured a bit less, i would feel more electric maybe if i stopped, i would be more energetic maybe if i would fit their standards they would love me more but would i love myself if my ribs would show?
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By Avika I don’t understand.
Whom should I listen to? My pride which tells me to, work hard, hustle and enjoy retirement at 40. or My passion which tells me to, enjoy life right now. What if my pride fails me? I work hard but I die at 43? What if my passion fails me? What if I enjoy too much and be caged under unused potential? I am too young and yet too old for this decision, Too naive and too oversmart to decide what’s dearer. As my pride works through my passion and my passion is fueled by my pride. I will always be stuck in this little gap of passion and pride. & I will lay my head and share my thoughts with my own capability that lies beside me and is made with the same molecules as I. By Chita As I walk down the street
and picking up on all my senses being present and taking in The smell of tea reminds me of you The dew on my glasses reminds me of you The laughter of a grandfather with his grandchild ...it makes me wonder about you My mind is being transported to those days When you asked me to buy your lifesaving medicine When you asked me to forgive you for being a burden to me When you asked me if I had to leave you Words cannot express how much I regret everything How much I regretted not being by your side as you drew your last breath How much I regretted not being by your side longer as you lay down in the coffin How much I regretted not being able to talk or think about you that often But during one of these days this month I will always think of you I will always dream of you I will always be reminded of you because there is one special day in this month, Happy birthday, Father. By Chita I am jealous of the birds
Who can freely fly in the sky and land softly on top of a branch on top of the water Their body is light Nothing is dragging them behind Nothing is weighing them down Nothing is crushing them up Nothing is eating them alive I am jealous of the birds Who can easily soar up to the sky who seem so carefree who seem so light and gracious… I wonder if those birds. Ever wonder why they can’t fly as high as the eagle Ever wonder why they aren’t as elegant as the swan Ever wonder why they are different I would imagine They just spread their wings They just fly as much as they want, as much as they can They just let the wind take them They just let the current float them Oh, how I am jealous of the birds who seem so carefree and not weighed down by their thoughts Life would have been way simpler. By Vasati Dear future me,
On your rainy days on your lonely nights when you cry yourself to sleep or wake up with baggy eyes For the days you wake up but don't feel like living when you try for too long and just give up on existing When your tears speak for you on behalf of your heart When you can't piece together all your broken parts When those you love leave When time fails to heal for the times you faked a smile and they all thought it was real Dear future me, When you're broken beyond repair and you've been through enough look back and read this for when the going gets too tough Just know that I love you And I'm proud that you're trying your best Hold on for me okay the time's almost up for this test I believe in you I believe in the both of us You WILL learn to love again to believe, hope and trust No matter what life throws at you or how hard you may get hit you're going to be just fine because I will love you through it By Vasati Dear past me,
Don't worry, you turned out fine You've proven to everyone that you are not to be undermined Yes you will mess up Yes you'll make mistakes But as your future self I'm here to tell you that it's okay Don't listen to the haters they're trash in the future as they are in the past But I beg of you past self please don't grow up too fast Dear past self, Enjoy your young self You won't get this back again And always remember not everyone will be your friend Remember who you are Love yourself in all your beauty And don't you dare succumb to beauty standards of society Don't let your life be ruined by 'What ifs' or regrets And please don't hurt other people just because you are hurt Past me, I wish you knew then what future me knows now But mistakes are made, so in this way future me can learn somehow By Madeline Light dances across the spines,
lit against the blue and the black, the matte and the translucent of the covers and the dust jackets, assembled soldiers ready and waiting. Light dances across the names lit against the titles, the fonts snow white, glittering gold, pitch black, curled in cursive, strong in caps. Light dances across the waiting worlds, lit against the stories within, the pages to be turned, the spines to be cracked, ready and waiting. By Vasati I can't hurt you as you've hurt me
so I write down my emotions Here is where I will kill you with my paper and my pen First, I will run you over not by bus, train or car I will crush you with so much force using the hatred in my heart My pen strokes will stab right through you you'll be hanging by my lines Your skin will burn a little more with every word that I rhyme When I dictate the story best believe you won't live long I'll cut straight to the part where the choir sings your funeral song All the pain you've caused me will be ten times even worse In my story, I'm the blessing while you're just another rotten curse Don't think that I've forgotten honey, I don't play that way If you've crossed me more than once I suggest you start to pray As I've said, I can't hurt you the same way that you've hurt me But with pen, paper and thoughts might as well be murder in the first degree By Madeline Before it ended, you didn’t try.
Instead, You never put in the effort. You let things crawl along. Instead, You never really got to know me. You asked the same surface questions. When it was ending, you didn’t cry. Instead, You twisted the blame. You pinned it on me. Instead, You didn’t apologize. You expected one from me. Right after it ended, you didn’t speak. Instead, You avoided my eyes. You dodged me like I was a ghost. Instead, You talked to everyone but me. I didn’t exist to you. A year after it ended, you reached out. You texted. You wanted to meet. You thought I would say yes, ever the people pleaser. Instead, I said no. I guess I moved on and you never did. By Vasati Oh Hello again! It's you
come on in have a seat Let me put the kettle on, please relax have some tea I warned you about this I told you they'd all leave One way or another they hurt you and you hurt me So tell me, what happened this time? Did he leave? Or did he cheat? Why so surprised? Of course, I know You never learn from the mistakes you repeat Go on cry me a river and if you feel like it, upgrade to an ocean I let you go in one piece and you come back all shattered and broken It's time to put our guard back up But first, let me heal us both Swear to me this won't happen again Please…. swear it on the oath "Cross my heart and if I croak drop a toenail in my coke Never again will I let in a person who will only leave me broken" By Parishi Can you?
Oh, how you will love the thrilling touch of her skin, And how her smile can brighten up your day You can cry your heart out to her if something is wrong You'll fall for how the wind blows her hair when she smiles You'll be lost in her eyes, oh how she carries the world in them, dreams like magic and tales like fairies You'll never want to look away when she's around And not forget to blush at the fine dimples on either side of her cheeks You'll be in awe of how she's so good at grades and how clearly she explains You'll love how she cries out with joy when she laughs too much and how innocently she cracks a joke Oh and how she'll jump out with joy when you gift her a present on her birthday And what a glamour she'll be when she dresses at her best and will take your breath away When she'll casually touch your arm and set your heart racing When she tells you she's tired and stretches out her arms to let you carry her Oh, how you'll love her more than the fireflies love their light, you'll want her more than a sunflower needs its sun, you'll fall for her more than an asteroid for its earth, you'll want her on your skin more than a dried sapling longs for rain And will want to keep looking at her more than the partridge looks at her moon. But, Have you ever loved a forest fire Instead of a soothing spring? Have you ever praised the silver clouds Upsetting the purple sky? Have you ever giggled at a wildflower And not the lilies? Have you ever thought of the dead autumn More than you've felt the rain? Anybody can love the touch of her skin Can you love the ashes behind her scars? Anybody can cry their life out to her Can you listen to her when she's falling apart? Anybody can praise her good grades Can you tell her how beautiful her hair smells today? Anybody can ask her how much she earned today Can you ask her if she had her meal and had enough water? Anybody can quarrel over how she doesn't reply to their texts Can you ask her if her day was good and if she's okay? Anybody can walk up to her when they need her, Can you walk up to the end of her street when she's alone? Anybody can talk about how she aces the black dress she wearing But can you just put her hair behind her ear and tell her that she's more beautiful than the stars? Anybody can blame her for not being good enough Can you tell her she is the strongest woman you know and she's perfect as she is? Can you tell her she's good in whatever colour her skin looks like and whatever shape her body is carved in? Can you tell her that she distracts you and it is illegal to be this beautiful? Can you tell her to stop smiling because you'll not be able to sleep? Can you tell her you miss her in your arms, raw and rare? Can you love her when she's at her weakest, with entangled hair, sunken cheeks, swollen eyes and a bleeding heart? Can you wipe out her tears, plant a kiss on her forehead and tell her she's the best thing that's happened to you? Can you hold her trembling hand, hold her hand tight enough, look into her eyes and tell her that she deserves the world and everything will be okay? Can you? By Priyanka Dust of ashes in the fragments of my soul,
Traced in the ghosts of shadows there lay a dream yet to be scavenged A dream that glimpsed the promise of birth, But somewhere, the hope had died I had dug the ashes out, and stomped on them and buried them, to still in bedrock, forgotten forever in the dirt. Now that I look back, I simply wonder, what had killed, a vision, so vivid and alive, that stirred with tremendous zeal and passion, that had stolen, a chamber of my heart, that the very thought of it,, Quaked my boots and yet, Unleashed the storm on the shore? That left me gasping for breath, yet made my spirits soar? Had it been, the drone of gossip, the string of No's? Had they said, that I was too young and wild? And that I needed to be tamed by playing it safe? Was that the cause that I somehow grew, a root of self-doubt in my body, that churned out anxiety, so overwhelming Had it been, that penetrated my nerves, flooded my mind? Leaving me gaping and tumbling into a black hole of endless uncertainty? My brain is a mess, But why bother cleaning it up, No one’s ever going to walk in, There’s nothing in here they’ll ever love. There are a million different things screaming for my attention, A million different fires that need redirection, But each time I try to smooth over the traffic, Another bomb drops and adds to the panic. Many different things add to the noise: School, friends, family, With a plethora of commitments breathing down my neck, I constantly feel like I’m sick. It never shows though, it’s carefully tucked away, Schooled expressions worn as masks to lead onlookers astray, I can’t afford to take them off, The dam I’ve been building will crack, And then no one will want me back. But, I’m so tired of this mess, I need help, I need help with spring cleaning, But it’s not even spring yet, maybe I should wait, Procrastinate, It’s all that I know how to do. -Jahannavi JahannaviAnxiety is watching a blur of cars, their tires gliding swiftly through damp roads,
Drifting -- away. The sound of the crossing delays them-- a moment to breathe; A random pause in their flow of movement. But moments later, they begin their smooth descent To the known, Their destination already decided. Silent tears, the only things that can escape you; A salty tasty of freedom against your lips, The only way of knowing your tears are real, And not just a river being washed from within you, Turning you into the puddle cars manoeuvre around, Or splash against, coating pedestrians with despair, Their own feel for what anxiety did to you. But anxiety is Being left behind; Watching life move without you. Anxiety is frozen, Knowing what to do, but disconnected from your ability to move, Wondering how your legs once caught up to them, A blunder in your memories. Anxiety, your mind a jittery hand You can’t control, Your dreams spilled onto a page But the pen, the key to your soul, Is Slowly Losing Ink Anxiety is the choked silence Frozen in your throat Lodged between fear and freedom. Nicole I’m waiting for my past-time, to be part-time, to be all mine.
I’m excited to watch the days fly by, not a care in the world. Right now they’re not mine. I’m ready to waste it, I’m ready to chase it, can’t fit in the moment But why should I care I’ve gotten over it, my future is glistening, but I’m stuck here. It’s a pity my emotions, creations, excitation are wasted on the wonders that aren’t here. Am I wrong to be excited for what to come; is it wrong for it to be the only thing I wanted? Am I wrong to want all the things unsure; is it wrong to be unhappy for the things I can control? Why does the me-now even matter, when she’s gone tomorrow morning? Why should I try? Even the world is trying to distract myself from “who am I right now?” - Jahannavi The wistful whispers of the ocean as it glistens in the moonlight
Subdued by the tranquil air and the silence that gently travels, Urge the pebble to edge further into the predictability Of the soft waves, finding safety in its delicate fluctuating motion Unlike the tumultuous waves that possess the angelic Body of water when the sun rises. The blue light is electric, reflecting and revitalizing The gentle splashes provide a promise that they will Guide your thoughts, rather than aggravate them. Slowing them down, focusing on what truly matters. Unlike under the scorching cerulean sky, Where floating in the middle of nowhere Is blinding And being suffocated under the waves Which choke your silence. Here, silence is free, Silence isn’t synonymous with fear. Liberated by the soft waves of freedom, The dynamic blue water is glowing, Illuminating the truth in who you are, The truth that only you know is there. You’re safe here, You’re protected by the breeze that Carries your trepidation away Through the waves of discovery.
Sometimes I wish I could rewind the clocks and go - go back in time, be interested in the things I'm not, play with the toys that collect dust, climb the tree house before it’s all rot, ride my bike before its covered in rust, play games with my brother, just give it another, go - go back in time, and say yes to those scary things, not be as shy, listen to the bird sing, cause the limit is the sky. Oh, the places, I will go - but now I just sit, and cry as they all go by. By Josh
The cushions on the couch provide a comfortable place to rest -
the dog curls up beneath my feet to doze, the rug is her place of vacation its soft strands intertwined with her fur, like warm sand underfoot. The picture frames on the wall catch my eye as I examine the memories they hold, As the books on the shelf call out to me, they long to be read, the blanket wraps around me - hugging me tight as I read, travelling to a distant world from my living room, whilst the vinyl spins round and round, dancing as it sings, the candle joins in the dance - gently, flickering, as it bathes the room in a soft, warm light, the warmth protects me from the cold outside, the storm that rages on can’t reach me, here. By Josh One day, I was walking home with my mum, An old man called me love, Told me to give him a lick of my ice cream, I was seven. and it still makes me wanna scream. One day, I wore my favourite skirt to the shops, I got catcalled by a man someone probably called "pops", My mum told me "take it as a compliment" I was fourteen and no longer comfortable in my skin. One day, I went out with my friends to town, what Ii was wearing should not matter, but to every guy who saw me it did, I was fifteen, and realised that this was normal. I shouldn't be afraid to go out at night in fear of harassment, but i am. I shouldn’t have had to worry about it at 14, but i did. I shouldn't take it as a compliment, It was not. Jemima |
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Teenagers With Experience is an online organisation created to provide teenagers worldwide with an online platform to share their own experiences to be able to help, inform and educate others on a variety of different topics. We aim to provide a safe space to all young people.
Please note that the content on this website is created by teenagers. While we strive to provide accurate and helpful information, it is important to remember that we are not professional experts. If you are experiencing a crisis or need professional advice, please reach out to a qualified mental health professional or a helpline. |