Um, Title?

If anyone in the twenty-second century finds my poems and they’re considered classics and all that I can just imagine a teacher being like:

“Okay, class, who actually read Ivy’s famous ‘Um, Title?'”

But by then we might not have teachers…whoa…those lucky kids. Sorry my teachers make me go insane every day and I’m so ready to say goodbye _____________!

Sorry. Here’s poetry.


the teacher pissed me off

and maybe i was talking louder than necessary

but then she turned around


Wow, that’s the loudest I’ve ever heard Ivy speak!”


in that case

you’ve never


heard me


but you wouldn’t know that,

would you?

wrapped up in your little bubble of

prettiness and popularity


I don’t know if you can call that poetry but there it is. This actually happened today and I thought girl you must be deaf because I am loud as fuck all the time and you only notice today – a week and a half before the end of eighth grade? We’ve been in the same class for nine months. Ugh.

Our semi-formal is this weekend – honestly it’s yet another popularity contest but hell yeah I’m going. Only because of my friends. Because I don’t have a date. Because I will be forever alone. 😅😜

There’s always Ohio Boy. Who asked me out. I honestly have no idea how that happened. He called me cute and I thought um, excuse me, do you need glasses? (I degrade myself too much). Of course I had to say no since my mom controls my life and would get pissed off to no end…but it happened…and I wanted to say yes…so does that count?

My life is a mess, but school’s almost over! Four more exams to go, and one’s tomorrow, but I’m pretty good at Spanish.

I will end up dying from too many heart attacks one after another – test stress, semi-formal, the pool party I miraculously got invited to, Ohio Boy…..

goodbye world

Sorry for the rant if you actually read this. And thank you guys for your unending support!

Also I couldn’t find a picture of screaming that didn’t look terrible so…



Ohio Boy

Finally I can write something happy! It’s all thanks to him..

I tried to write this in paragraphs but it just wasn’t working.

Ohio Boy,

you are the reason I feel the flutter

i haven’t felt in what might as well be a hundred years

i feel like i just went on a roller coaster

but all i did was talk to you

thank you for reminding me

that i am smart

that i am pretty

that got me through my test today

you don’t know

you were the first

to ever say these things to me

the first boy to ask me out

if only i could have said yes

i wish you didn’t take up quite so many of my thoughts

but i couldn’t care less

i know there’s a reason we met

and you’d better make it a good one


makes me want to make you feel

make you know

that you can be loved for more than just your body

But maybe I’m just being over-dramatic.


Mr. Perfect

you are not real

you are not real

you are not real


if you don’t exist

then what’s wrong with me

why do you take up so much of my thoughts


i will never meet you

but i imagine you right there

in all your glory


~Mr. Perfect

Death By Society

The day it’s too late is the day she runs into the kitchen shouting:

“Mama, mama, I’m fat!”

And all you can say is:

“Who told you that? They’re wrong.”

But she won’t believe you. She won’t believe you ever again. Because you’re her mother, and you have to tell her she’s beautiful. No matter what the truth is, she won’t believe it.

And so at night you cry for the loss of another little girl.  

Taken from you by magazines and pop culture and television – and never to realize that it’s all fake until long after it matters.


All just one reason we live in a world of depression.

Why I Walked Away

i touch your face

trace your lips with my thumb

and i wonder why they all raised my expectations so high

the tv shows the teen novels the love that doesn’t actually exist everywhere


they’ve ruined me

i don’t think i can have you

i don’t think i deserve you

when sometimes all i can think about is them


i know the perfection isn’t real

they’re just words on a page

sometimes i reach out for them

and and my fingers bump into a hollow screen


i can’t touch you anymore

my skin is acid

my touch is poison

i’m sorry


~but i don’t deserve you

Superficially Broken

Why does my heart get broken by people that aren’t even real?

Maybe it’s because I’ll never find anyone like them – because I know the world is too superficial to create someone like that.

Maybe it’s the world that’s broken – not me.