Young Writers Society

How many days until yesterday?

I stand here on the edge
Of every regret i left behind
Every step i swore i would never stumble
And every scar i learned for forget.
The scale of my consciousness
Teeters between control and healing.
The sweat on my skin feels colder
Than every dark night i have sat alone.
And still,
All i have is nothing
And all i will ever be
Is someone fighting to have a life good enough
To live.
Thank god for poetry.
The only friend who has not left my already
Lonely and broken heart
That is too afraid to heal.
So here i am
On the edge of every girl i am terrified of becoming
Every memory i am scared of reliving
Every person i am scared of traumatising
And every friend that i have never been able to forgive.
I sit here and wonder,
How many more days until yesterday?

^^That is so awkward, I don't know why I reposted the same poem twice, but thank you @Spearmint for still liking it both times xD Your kindness slays infinitely!

Since this forum is specifically for me organizing the chaos of my poetry book, I apologize because I will also be posting some of my NaPo poems here- just because I am using this thread to keep track of what has been organized into my book and where about it will go.

So if you see doubles here, don't fret!

Why I need to suffer.

It seems that I experience light
Through suffering.
I only pray when it’s my only option.

Maybe what I’m saying is that
I only feel worthy to talk to God when I know
I am absolutely entirely one hundred percent
Genuine.

And tears feel like the martyr for my own
Sanity, sometimes.
So I cry to God and tell him I’m sorry
For only experiencing His light
When I suffer.

But I think he knows that.
He knows that I need pain to
Have enough reasons to choose to change.

And maybe that is enough right now.
And maybe someday I won’t need to suffer,
But for every day I cry
And every day that is too much to bear,
I am broken just enough
To trust Him.

And for right now,
That is everything I need.
That’s why I’m grateful for suffering.

(Also you may notice that some of my poems here that are copies are my NaPo poems have different names or have better spelling/changes in wording/additional or removed verses. That's because the poems in this thread are more edited. The ones in my NaPo thread are very freestyle and just written when I have something I want to express, while these ones are also pretty freestyle, but have normally at least been copied into my Google Doc, which has allowed me to find spelling errors or made some edits.)

Even Sharpies bleed.

Like the words on my page,
That I feel in my heart,
Deeper than I have the vocabulary to express.

The ink smears on my skin
And creates a picturesque view
Of the mountains in the winter.
Every crease, carving perfection in my
Fingertips.

Because even Sharpies bleed.
And I’ve bled a lot too.
I’ve watched blood pour like the tears I shed
As I looked for the sun
But only saw the dark swirls of ink.

The dark swirls of the ink you drowned me in.
When I was 4 years old.

Sharpies bleed.
But I don’t want to.

To myself:

Thanks for breaking me
In every way
I didn’t even realize I could be broken.

Too many words that I never get to say

Maybe I overthink
or maybe I'm just too good at remembering.
and maybe I write too many poems
or maybe I just have too many words that
i never get to say.
too many feelings no one knows I feel
and too many ideas that never leave the pages
of my journal.

some people call it overthinking,
but I call her the only friend whom i can be certain
will never leave me.
She takes up all my time
but at least I can travel anywhere I want
in the world I have created in my mind.

i overthink
every word
every memory
every regret
every feeling
every ending
every beginning
and every version of who I could have been
if I wasn't always too afraid to change.

maybe I overthink.
and maybe I overthink the very idea
of the disease of overthinking,
which lingers on my skin like the sunburn I got
which has turned my complexion dark.
And maybe thoughts are just thoughts
like how dreams are just dreams
and tears are only tears
and my life is just a life
that I am learning to live,

but at least I think.
and at least I see the beauty in
every thing and
every failure
and every disease
and every ending.

Ahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Today I took a really big step in getting ready to publish! Time to write like CRAZY and get this draft finished so I can submit it!!!!! AH I can't belive this is actually happening!!!!!

AHHHHHHHHHHHH CONGRATSSSSSSSS :OOO can't wait until Ellie poetry is out in the wild in physical form !!!

Thank you, Mint!!! You are such a great friend! Thanks for being so kind!

overthinking tears and why they make me grateful
i saw my friends cry,
but I also saw them share poems of hope.

the truth is, I can think for hours and hours and I can overthink every detail of my life, but poetry saves me every single time.

i saw my friends scream and beg for any ounce of saving (they didn't get any),
but I also saw their hearts be calmed as they allowed music and gratitude to hug their aching hearts and ease their troubled minds.

i never understood the importance of gratitude until I realized I didn't even know what it was.
i never knew compassion until I hated myself
and I never knew forgiveness until my best friend told me she never loved me
and I never knew love until the one I loved chose another girl
(who looks and acts just like me).

and maybe I still say that I hate myself but maybe I also still say
that I love
the strength it takes to see myself as a perfectly imperfect person.
learning to love is greater than
loving.

and so
i saw my friends cry,
but I also saw their tears that taught me to accept
unconditionally.
i was changed from a rigid believer
to a freely striving to be saved lover.
and that feels like freedom on the wings of
every eagle
and every colour
and every lantern in the sky.

Overthinking every time I kissed you and how the stars were a map telling me to leave

Summer stars
Are the only reason
I could see the freckles that danced
Over your entire body.

Damp grass
Is the only way I knew
Where I was.
I was with you
And the stars were the map.

Maybe I should have followed it.

I probably kissed you a thousand times that night.
And I wanted to but I also didn’t
But I told you I did
So I guess it was okay
For you to kiss me back.

I overthink how a kiss is only a kiss
And a kiss didn’t mean much
Until I saw you
Kiss
Her.
The girl who looks just like me.
She laughs a lot too.

Maybe your freckles were always stars
And stars were always maps
And maps made me want to kiss you
And kisses were only kisses
Until they were more than that.
And when they became more
They became nothing
And everything I wanted.

Summer stars.
Damp grass.
And way too many feelings.