Young Writers Society

When did the words in my poems become literal?
How long can I do this?
Before I can’t.
How many more days can I open my eyes
And breathe
And not open my mouth
And stay silent.
It feels a bit like I have failed.
And a bit like
The life I thought I had
Was only a combination of brainwashing
And what I thought would fill me.
It hurts to breathe,
Literally
And metaphorically.
But mostly literally.
When did the words in my poems become literal?
I’ve heard drowning doesn’t hurt
If you don’t fight the pain.
If you aren’t scared.
The difference between who I used to be
And the girl I am now,
Is that the only thing I fear is choosing the wrong ending.
My path is split.
Death feels like a hug and a curse,
Because I have only been wicked and I have only done evil.
Unbearable life
Or eternal death.
Laboured breathes
Or shallow, unmoving, stillness.
Silence,
Or undetermined screams.
Poems,
Or letters,
Or neither.
Or all, or none.

When daydreams turn to suicide notes,
TW- Suicide

Sinners and Saints

They say a saint
Is a sinner who keeps on trying.
Who am I
If I am a sinner who wants try,
But can’t.
A sinner who keeps on sinning.
I was a saint,
And maybe that’s the name
You know me by.
I was also a child,
And maybe that’s who you
Remember me as.

They say a sinner
Is a saint
With too much pain.
Who has been blinded from truth.
But all I feel is freedom.
To use.
To choose.
To sing.
And cry.
You see me as a sinner,
But in death
I have found my will to live.
My reason to stay.

They say I will never find happiness
As a sinner.
Even as a saint,
I didn’t fear death.
I was already dead inside.
You see choices as a noose,
As did I.
But maybe taking these first steps
Is what gets me out of the cave.

They say a saint is a sinner
Who keeps on trying.
I am trying,
harder than Hell.
And if this is Hell,
Maybe this is all I need.

Always mine; never yours.

The words I say to myself
Scrape plaque off my teeth.
Looking in the mirror,
The unsettling thought invades my mind.
I have only been yours,
And never mine.

Yours; not mine.
You love me; you hated me before.

I see your texts.
I see your money.
I see you trying to win me back.
Or at least the idea of me,
A daughter who loves you
As much as the mother I always wanted
To love me.

This mother was always mine.
And she will never be yours.
Never you.
Always mine; never yours.

Beauty; pain; recovery.
The coexistence of you and me,
Yours and mine,
Mom and daughter,
Well, they make me scrape
that plaque off my teeth.
Looking in the mirror,
I see
Only you;
And never me.

You deserve smiles like stars

You deserve smiles like stars.
And I know you feel like
You’ll never be pretty.
Because some people aren’t pretty.

But your tears are a stream.
And maybe
You are so caught up in the stream,
That you don’t see the ocean you’ve cried.

You worry about
Crying yourself to death, so much,
That you don’t realize you cry yourself to sleep,
Every night.

Your silence is so loud.
I cover my ears,
Hiding from the noise.
What I would do to be your priority, again.

The loudness of your words,
Is isolating, and decapitates my exclamation marks.
My best friend,
But only mine and never yours.

Every flaw.

You are your own voice teacher.
You hear every flaw and know how to fix it.
Therapists call you aware.
And doctors do too.

If Tears Were Stars

When boys look at me
They don’t see the perfect girl
They want to marry.
They don’t see someone
Who they will remember.
Or want to hold,
Underneath a sky of every star.

I used to think I was ugly,
But now I think that I spend too much time
Focussing on things I don’t have,
Still, it feels like I don’t have as much
as every other girl.
Every girl that can look at a boy,
And know that he notices
The way her eyes curve when she smiles,
And the dimple on her left cheek, when she laughs.

If eyes were tears, and,
If tears were stars,
I have cried enough to light my own galaxy.
And maybe that is okay,
Because that is all I have
And as I have gotten older, I have realized,
You need to find a reason to live, with what you have,
And not what you are missing.

Buried in darkness.

We don’t bury seeds to hide them.
We bury them in darkness,
So they can grow,
And see the sun.
Become something
Someone
Beautiful.
More than that seed can comprehend.

What I want you to feel.

Thank you God
For blessing me with a broken heart.
That I may grow.
Thank you for wishing me pain,
That I may learn to heal.
Thank you for breaking me,
That I may learn forgiveness.
Thank you for making me want to give up,
That I may learn to rest in a season
Of change.
Thank you for this valley of tears,
That has taught me how to swim
In my own ocean of sorrow.
Thank you for pain,
Because now I have poems.
Thank you for my imperfections,
For I have found friends who
Like broken people.
Thank you for anxiety,
Because I have learned to be humble.
Thank you for the pain I prayed to end,
Because I love every moment of life
That feels bearable.
Again,
Thank you for my broken heart,
For I have found you
When you were the only hope
Left in life itself.

Nothing of who I was.

As a child
You helped me,
Surrounded by grace,
I learned to speak
My own name.

Who I am now
Is nothing of who I was,
But still, every piece of me yearns for her.
I see a glimpse of her smile
When I pray,
Earnestly.

These prayers only come through
Depression.
When I feel I cannot go on another day,
I find strength in what I have lost
And in the past I yearn for.

I have grown to accept change,
But I also know who I am am.
And the parts of me
Which are unchanged.
I accept your grace.
Change my heart, Lord.

Expectations/Reality

I expect a maturity
That I do not posses.
My heart tears for certainty
That is more certain than
The word itself.
I will not rest in uncertainty
For all I know is that.

Souvenirs upon your skin.

You have not ruined your body.

Your life is a story.
The souvenirs of your journey
Have only crafted your heart.
And brought you deep enough
In the waters of sorrow,
That you speak
A language that is only understood
By someone who has been broken.

Let me say this again,
You have not ruined your body.
You have not discoloured your skin.
You have not made your figure into
A frame that is unable to possess beauty.

You have won every battle.

And for that,
You deserve love that is deeper than
The ocean.
I lie awake at night,
Staring at the sky filled with your tears,
Marveling at the wonder
Of such a perfect creation.

A perfect creation,
crafted only through flaws
And pain
And hurt
That seems like it will
Never end.

As a shooting star
Crosses the deep, dark, void of black,
I think of you.

And I think about how
You have not ruined your body.
And I think about,
How I love you.
Oh, if you could see
How you shine.

You can’t throw stones while washing feet.

You can’t throw stones
While washing feet.

Those who have tasted rocks,
along the path they tread,
Have been embraced with humility.

The imprints of boulders,
Grace their shoulders.
And pebbles pry at their skin,
Slicing their spine,
Until they bleed.

Their blood falls like tears,
As they reflect on the stones they threw,
And the single sided battles they won.
The real battle was within,
Grace withered like a dried flower.

You can’t throw stones
While washing feet.

Already Silenced.

What I would do
To fight with you again.
You left so suddenly
And silenced my already silent lips.

Thousands of feet in the air,
Life feels small.
You feel small.
And every way you hurt me,
Feels like it is nothing more than
A dot, down on the surface.

In the air,
I cannot call you.
The separation is noticeable,
But feels like a relief,
A wave.

Just like how the sun rises and sets
Without seeking to accomplish a goal,
I go up into the air
And will come back down again
Someday.

I always repent of my sins
Before a flight.
Because I am so scared of death.
Down below, you remain unrepentant.
Blind to the thoughts you have caused
To infest my mind.
Safe.

The mountain peaks
Remind me of the subtle mistakes
You make known.
An imperfect girl pretending to be
Perfectly imperfect.

Thousands of feet in the air,
I reflect on my life.
My flaws.
Failures.
Insecurities.
Late night thoughts.
And it all
Feels
So
So
Small.