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  1. You never know what you got till its gone.

    Oldest saying alive.

    And its completely true.

    I'm 15. I used to live in a suburban, quiet town with several groups of friends. I had one group who was a little immature but fun. I ha one group of friends who was more mature and we were popular throughout the school but that didn't matter. We could care less, we're just us.

    I now live in the city, near boston. I'm a relatively tough kid and I've been in a few fights. I know how to handle myself but I have a soft side. I'm also secretly really emotional.

    Everyone here is having sex and doing drugs. Everyone here is worried about being tough, or cool, or whatever. I hate it. I fit in ok, I have a group of friends who I kinda like and its an ok life. I live with my aunt and uncle and mom while my dad stays in the suburban town. I have the option of moving in with him but I think it would kill my mom to hear that I want to.

    I miss playing tackle football in the snow at the park. I miss having sleepovers and watching movies till 4 am. I miss not talking about how wasted so and so was, and what type of weed is out there. I miss having honest friends.

    I'm in an impossible situation and i think I'm slowly going insane here. I feel trapped and I really want to move back.

    Any advice on how to handle this?
  2. Ever since I left I feel a want,
    a vacant space in me-
    I left a part of me with you.
    My memories are now cold,
    Reminiscent of times once had;
    Like beach houses in winter.

    And I lie awake every night,
    Watching life pass me by
    As I watch silently.
    I don’t miss what we had.
    I don’t miss loving you-
    but feeling warm and belonging.

    A poem from my daily journal. Please comment/critique.

  3. She came with the tides,
    her scent in every grain,
    her face in every cloud.

    She always left me
    and I wondered why
    I always went back.

    One year I lost her
    Amongst the crashing waves
    And the painted skys.

    The crying dove whispered his tale
    Of how she sung my name
    When she drifted away

    And I heard it from the seashells
    Of how she begged for me by night
    And it was all to late

    That I realized I was her moon
    And she was my tides
    Until she was drifting to find another star
  4. I am 15 years old, leaving my 8th grade year. I consider myself a "modern hippy". I have an amazing girlfriend and a few true good friends. Most of my friends are considered "popular" on the social scale, along with me. But the normal "expected" clothing and such from people is not what I wear or do and I find myself getting tired of justifying myself to everyone. And when I really get sick of it I think "screw it, I'll just get different friends" but then all I can think of is that they would be "nerdy". And I think its an asshole thing to think but I like being popular and I guess I'll have to keep fighting for who I am. Does anyone else have a similar situation?

  5. One of my many poems, I felt like posting a rather odd one...

    Scribbled, and dragging;
    black sharpie.
    Spitting rumors with ease,
    hearts are broken
    with a sarcastic kiss.

    Eyes filled with laughter,
    point and shout.
    When the eyes bulge,
    the laughing stops
    and your name is dropped.

    White-out and smudging
    can only disguise.
    Nervous sweats,
    midnight worries
    will the writing remain?