GhostSlayer

GhostSlayer

VT

14 years old

Posts

  • Anxiety

    When I go to school on occasion I worry that I will be treated differently because of my hearing.

    something completely out of my control.

    I fear that a teacher could pick me out of the class because of my differences.

  • Nature's Beauty

    Redwoods standing tall and strong.

    sycamores with mushroom-like foliage.

    Maple with their sap soon to be syrup.

    Willows weeping in the new dawn light.

    Cardinals singing on the branches of a oak tree 

  • Silently judged

    Every day 

    I feel like I am constantly being watched.

    Judged

    And looked down upon.

    I know that this might not be true 

    But I feel the same regardless.

    Because that is human nature.

  • Expectations

    As a teenager I am expected to conform.

    Even though people tell you that you should be distant “stand out from the crowd” the second you do they tell you “what are you doing?”

  • Shut out the world

    I write to shut out the world.

    I want to get lost in my own worlds 

    Not thinking about life and what’s happening in the world right now.

    I write to escape to a whole new world where I have control of everything.

Loves

  • Tired.

    I’m tired.

    Not “need-a-nap” tired.

    Not “school-was-long” tired.

    I’m tired in a way that reaches all the way down to my ribs.

    I don’t sleep much anymore.

    I stay up listening.

    Not for music.

  • Sunset

    Walking through the college greens 

    On a warm night


    Some random song stuck in my head

    Playing on repeat once again


    Smelling the new flowers blooming 

    In the garden near my favorite picnic table

  • Playlist

    A ton of songs -

    Over fifty -

    I love them all,

    But fade so quickly.

    My interest dies

    By the tenth repetition,

    And so I move on

    To a cooler mission.

    This beat, this soundtrack

    On a loop.

  • amnesia

    wrap your laced-up fingers around my throat like you don’t want to breathe,

    hold my pupils in your palms. do you want to smile?

    amnesia. the brain doesn’t like the watercolour poem of my skeletal frame,