Young Writers Society

a dustland fairytale

life isn't like it is in fairytales, my darling.
when I look at you, and I see the smile on your face,
and the dreamy glint in your eye,
I want to tell you. I want to hold you,
protect you, save you from being hurt.
unfortunately, that cannot be,
for it seems like growing up means
being hurt.

you think about me and see someone
who has it all figured it out, and I'm sorry that I
dont.

no home, no family of my own,
the arts still a passion in my spare time.
just hold on, never give up,
and maybe it will all be okay.

moonlight

the lake was so clear that night
that I could see my reflection
and the full moon alongside it.
the stars were in the sky,
and I remembered thinking
that there was nothing else I needed.
I was alone, but I was alone
and at peace. I was free.
I think I want to have
many more nights like this,
nothing and no one else around,
and I'm reminded of
life's simple pleasures.

take me to church

In my memory, I see the altar, the stained glass,
and the loud cry of an organ, all of it making me feel
a part of something.
I hold a burning candle, the base shaking in my
fourteen year old hands.
I take the candle to the altar,
a gesture towards the God I've begun to feel
ever distant from.
I wonder why there is suffering in the world
and all powerful God that lets it happen.
Still, I stay in the church,
and I hope He will speak to me yet.

rent

my phone bill was charged a late fee today,
the credit card company calls me incessantly,
wondering when I'll pay. my payment bounced bank,
and after all of that, I have less than ten dollars to my name.
holes are in my shoes, and the microwave is broken.
ten long days before I get paid again, only for the bills to
make it all disappear again. sometimes I wonder
what it's like to have so much that I never need to worry.
I sit down and write, hoping that I am building my bridge
away from all of this.

morning coffee

the smell of coffee wakes me up
from a deep and restful sleep.
the smell of coffee beckons me to
start my day, even though I'm comfortable
and warm in bed. underneath my covers,
no harm can come to come to me,
I don't have to experience the bitter cold
that has long overstayed its welcome.
but the smell of coffee is too sweet and too alluring
so I get out of bed and start my day.

good news

I got news today
that I don't know how to sit with.
It's good news and yet,
I can't help the feeling of anxious discomfort
that permeates throughout my body.
It's the kind of thing I've always wanted
and yet I think I'm so used to things going wrong
I don't know how to react when it all goes right.

twenty, thirty

thirty years old today, that's hard to believe.
it seems it was just the blink of an eye ago
that you and I were children without a care in the world,
children with the world ahead of us.
we've been adults for sometime now,
forging separate pathways in the world.
this isn't just another birthday for you --
I miss the days when we passed the time
with italian plumbers and mushroom kingdoms
sneaking cookie dough from the tube,
but I suppose life moves pretty fast
and I feel like adulthood has
pulled back on the curtain
of the wizard we thought would save us.
he's just a man, and we have to keep moving on.

kangaroo court

kangaroo court is in session,
but that just means it's a day that ends in y.
I wonder why the good are always punished
for making the slightest mistakes,
or for breathing the wrong way.
apologies aren't good enough,
and there's never a chance to reform.
and the bad, the ones who have no interest in changing,
they are excused, defended, and they get to go on
hurting others again.
it doesn't seem fair, and yet I still pray
for a measure of justice in this world.

barbie girl

when you were young, my darling,
you had dreams. nowadays,
all anyone asks you about is
him. those few years felt like both
a blink of an eye and an eternity.
he was inspired the rest of the world
and in in return was inspired by you.
you never asked for that, you were
just a girl who fell in love with a boy
and there have been a lot of those
in human existence.
now, you want to move on,
not defined by someone else,
live life the way you want.
yet, you will always be seen
through someone else's imagination.

here comes the sun

at long last, the sun has arrived
casting a light on what has seemed to be
a dim future. the sun against my skin,
I forgot what that sensation felt like.
summer not here yet, but it is on its way,
and now winter said goodbye,
and a phantom spring is halfway out the door,
I never want to be cold again.
I know that it's inevitable
and there is something natural
about the change of seasons.
still, it's all far too short, but I suppose
I ought to savor every moment
while it's here.

pounding

there's a pounding in my head, constant,
consistent. every time I try to make it go away,
the worse it gets, the faster and harder
it pounds. it tells me that I'm not good enough,
that I'm doing it all wrong, that sooner
or later I'm going to fail for all the world to see,
exposed on a stage as a crowd gawks at my
naked body. they laugh at me, because I'm a joke,
and it's funny that I ever thought I could succeed.
I try not to think of that, I try to press forward
in spite of the pounding in my head
that reminds me of my worst fears.

soma

I suppose that nothing ever really ends
and the world just keeps on turning.
we've gone through life dulled to pain,
to discomfort, to hardship,
to any unpleasant emotion.
pleasure now, every second,
every minute of every day,
and no one will ever be unhappy.
in the process, we didn't realize
that we were dulling ourselves
to real emotion too, and without that,
what does life really mean?

midnight voyage

nothing in this life ever really ends
it's more that one chapter becomes another
and then another. we just keep on sailing
through the middle of the night
steering the ships of our own lives
not sure where we're going, only
that we're going somewhere.
sometimes I wish we could see the path
but that would defeat the purpose,
wouldn't it, because we'd miss out
on the stars.

bitter cold

thirty two degrees fahrenheit today.
last week, it was seventy-five and the sun
reached out its arms to embrace our
little, insignificant town. in a few days,
it will be May, and they still want to believe
that it's December, almost as if we're not
allowed to be happy or comfortable. sometimes,
I wonder why I was born here --
flat, always cold, so far away
from everything. I know summer
is right around the corner, and in a blink of an eye
it will be gone once more and we
will have to hunker down until
it is summer again. I seem it much like life itself-
a lifetime of pain for a few moments of pleasure.