Young Writers Society

whelve
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{breathe in,
breathe out.

breathing helps,
it helps to calm
the bones, the soul,
the heart,

aching heart,
that beats in a rapid pace,
as if it is locked in a cage and
it can't wait to be free.

i want to set it free,
all of it, my insides, my
secrets, my brokenness,
but it's not so simple, i've
whelved them deep within me.

they are hidden behind my ribcage,
and locked with the key of each memory,
of each look at me, of each walk-away.

and i take away from this, that to whelve
is to breakthrough your innermost parts,
it is to dig up a grave and bury yourself
in it. maybe i'm too cynical but the ground
doesn't judge me, or fear me, or anger me.
but i judge me, fear me, anger me.

i do all these things. and even when i lock me away,
in the deepest parts of myself, i will find me,
and that is the scariest part of it all,

there is no place to hide. so i might as well bare it all.

right?}

Spoken Word: http://vocaroo.com/i/s1u83AHhh983

Formless

The number you have dialed is busy at the moment, please leave a message.

[Beep]

funny how your words
get twisted when they
leave your mouth; when
you look surprised, i laugh
inside. i know yout don't
mean them, but don't speak
then.

there are other things
we can do in the middle of the
night when you call me for no
reason, and i can't help but pick
up the phone, especially when i
see your name, and,

last season, that game,
was it so hard to play?
remember
when i beat you,
you cried that day,

okay,

exaggeration,
but the look on your face!

it's one of the parts of you
i love most. you make me
laugh without realizing it,
the small moments that
are easy to miss, but i
catch them, i catch everything,

you catch everything, if one
smile is out of place, you know,
that's why sometimes i hide
from you and cover my face,
i don't like how much you see.

i think it's because you'd see me;
everything, the worries, the fears,
when i'm lonely, when i'm sad, and
when my mind wanders to yours,

if my mind wanders to yours,

wait, who am i kidding?

i think of you all the time,
i wonder what on earth you're
getting yourself into now,
i make myself sick worrying
about you sometimes, but then
again, one look at that smile...

it's annoying, you should stop it,
stop taking my heart away from me;
capturing it in your hands, holding it's
fragile form. it could break any moment,
but you have it, you decide.

you'll decide, right? don't leave me
hanging, literally, don't string up my
heart somewhere in the night and run
away from all the conversations we've
yet to have, all the games we haven't
played.

so maybe i'm not normal, who is?
i know you aren't, i know you're different.
we can't be structured, we don't have a story,
we have ice cream and movies and late night
calls. sometimes we have hugs and cuddles.

you can't speak when you're nervous,
and neither can I, so we're silent in
those moments when we should be the
most loud, or maybe not, maybe that's
the way it's supposed to be. this is the
reality,

our love is formless,

we don't have a clear picture, we don't
have smooth sailing, but i know how funny
you are to me, how much i want to chill with
you every single day, and i think you want the same?

Call me back.

[Beep]

Spring Weather

the sunshine loves you,
it shines out in the middle
of the morning, after the light
rain has left sprinkles of remembrance
on the soft earth and the little flowers.

flowers you bloom, in the very tender
soil- you bloom flowers. they cover the
dirt, and they are beautiful. no matter where
they are, or how they grow, they make any
stone crack a smile,

your eyes must be the stars at night;
light in darkness, and so peacefully captivating,
one can't help but stare. your smile has to be the
clouds, gleaming with hope and joy and fluffiness.

making everything grow light blue around you,
a color for dancing and singing among the hills
that turn green because of you. and the yellow
dandelions sway in the wind seeming to laugh,
seeming to wave, they are happy because of you.

even if but for a moment, spring don't leave.
stay and cover us with your subtle warmth,
but breezy coolness and your quiet, yet exciting
afternoons, with dazzling evenings of almost
clear skies, where your eyes can sparkle every night.

Adamantine

we should form hope
as adamantine, something
that even our own will cannot
chip away, no matter how hard
we try,

we will never break, or even
scratch it. so that on days when
the water that flows from our eyes
touches our adamantine it will not rust,
and wither away,

nothing should be able to go near
it, or mock it, without our permission
because it is strong enough to hold
us up when we cannot hold ourselves,

our bones grow weary, but it stays young,
new, shiny like shinned black shoes and willing to
continue to brew- awakening like coffee, except
stronger, real, deeper than we know,

we should build love as adamantine,
tall and grand like gates that often lock
people away, but instead, we open our
hearts to people with a force unstoppable,
that keeps us in a place of joy we desperately
need,

we should have faith as adamantine, believing in
something Greater than ourselves, that there is
a path we must walk, no matter how narrow, that
may bend into the woods, but will carry us through,
and a light will be at our feet to guide us, if we want it to.

we should carry our adamantine, in all forms, with us
as we go, because everything else will fade away, and
crash or burn, but it will stay,

it will stay.

quiet and still #20

somedays,
i wish to curl up in a ball
and wrap my arms around my legs
that reach my chest and just stay like that.
maybe on my bed, with no blanket, just me
and the thoughts that swirl around me.
they never leave, so why not just embrace them?
embrace the silence, and the comfort in not moving,
not having to do anything, but lay there curled up, just like that.

I like the rain when you can hear it outside,
dancing off of someone's roof, and you're
inside, cuddling in some blankets with a warm
cup of hot chocolate thinking about past memories.

And then the rain, when it sprinkles down lightly,
just trying to let you know it's there, soft pieces of
iridescent water patting your skin a job well done,
because you manage without an umbrella, welcoming
the shy embrace.

The rain when it roars and pours ferociously like a lion
as it pounces, trying to devour the ground beneath it and
bringing lightning and thunder, is a troubled rain, but it makes
for times of hiding in books or TV shows, music,
and chats with family that would've otherwise never occurred.

Rain when you're filled with a strange sporadic joy that comes
out of nowhere but urges you out, possibly from stress or pain
hidden deep inside you, but you want to cleanse it out, cleanse
yourself out. Rain in those moments cause you to jump into it,
drenching yourself completely with it's shower, washing yourself,
your heart, your troubles with the joy of dancing in the rain, dancing
regardless of anything or anyone, dancing in the midst of it all.

All rain is a reminder as to what I love about the world, that what
is in it, things we did not create, things we cannot control, gives us
a true peace, joy, and happiness that we cannot understand or even
fully know. Rain with sunshine is a good example for me, when the rain
shares the day with the sun, and the clouds shares the day with the blue
skies, it's like two worlds have come together and there is beauty on both sides.
I love the rain, I love the rain when I'm not in it, and when I am in it, and even when
I don't like the rain, it still comes, readily, and it keeps coming until I like love it again.

One part of this world,
we are more than blessed to have,
is the rain,
in all it's simple glory.

Butterflies

cocoon swirl around me,
wrap me in a silken darkness
harden around me, break me
apart inside, where no one can
see my shaking, and tear away
the old of me, cast off the slow
rhythm of life I so adopted and
grew to love, change my heart to
think like I'm meant to

when I break out from this shell,
and come out a new creature,
with wings that will soar. give me
a heart for greater adventure, the
darkness was weakening, it made
me feel small, oh so small, but I will
be bigger than I ever was before, when
I see the sun again.

I'm ready, cocoon, take me,
take me till I awaken and see my
brethren, up in the skies.

Warning: Mature

Passionate Peace

Bright Light

storm clouds cover the sky
as a deep darkness joins it,
we're stuck in this tragedy that
is uncontrollable, and never seems
to end,

the darkness seeps into our skin,
as it swarms in our world, dissolving
any chance at complete peace,

or is it?

there is a Bright Light, but it's just
afar, you can't tell if it's real or
a mirage, unless you believe.

how to believe in that Light,
is the greatest 'how' in the world,
but it's there, free to reach if you
know you can. and they say, it
will keep growing, as you believe,

till one day you'll enter into the light,
the complete light, the world of light,
where the storm clouds are not allowed,
and the sunshine will never end.

The Future

i forget that the past,
is over, done, and irreversible,
so my mind goes back to each moment,
each time i made a mistake, or got hurt,
the moments overwhelm this shaken heart of mine,

i forget that the past,
will never be again and therefore,
what is left but to look to the future?

my eyes search, over the sun, the moon, mountains,
rivers, and seas for the future. the future is where i
will begin, where my life will re-start, and i will get a
second chance at everything, more air to breathe.

i forget that the future,
is new every day and will be
new always, every time I close my eyes,
i can hope for a brighter future, for the better days.

i forget that the future is all i have, sometimes.

i hope you know,

you are loved,
to the very bone.
your every part,
your bad, ugly, terrible,
your best, beauty, wonderful,
you are loved.

in the parts of you undiscovered,
you are loved.
when you feel alone,
or hated, or abandoned,
you are still loved.

in the midst of great anger,
you are loved,
and in the midst of fierce love,
you are loved.
when you are afraid,
you are loved.
and when you're strong,
you are loved.

you are loved
to the depths of your soul.
if you think you don't belong,
you do to someone,
you are loved.
you may not know it,
or see it always,
but you are loved.

when you run away,
you are loved,
and when you choose to stay,
you are loved.
when you feel pain,
you are loved,
and you will be built up again,
because you are loved

no matter the ups,
downs, sideways,
leftways, rightways,
faraways, or pathways, of life,
you are loved.

never forget it,
never let it go,
wrap yourself in it,
you are loved.

claim it, for,
you are loved.

i hope you know.

Joy-filled

spinning round and round and round
again as the music plays over and over and over,
in my head, and my heart is basically soaring out
of my chest, I fly out of my body, "I" as in my soul,
hurled to the ceiling to swing on the lights before slamming
back into myself in full force, filled to the brim with a passion for
singing, I belt, loudly, out into the air, my lung fills with words and
melody spills out of my mouth, with a force, that allows me to bellow
instead of just sing; and as my excitement wanes, everything slows
to slow motion, and I can only breathe, steady paced breaths
of true exhaustion, while my mind is dizzy and my soul is wifty;

filled with heavy breathing and a deep settling joy that I savor.

Tattoos

ink carved into skin,
a marking sewn into flesh,
statements never spoken yet
clearly made. an image, words,
meaning or not, it is artwork.
flowers and circles, books and trees,
roots that represent family, "hope" that
represents a past overcome, whatever
the message, there is one.

Poetry

it comes from a part of the soul
that is untouched most of the day,
but is unlocked when you need it to be.
when you write it, you are writing from somewhere
untapped, somewhere deep in your mind that you
cannot even fathom. you find this place because
you need to speak from an air of fervent thought
and wonder, and you need to dig up a melody, a rhythm,
a little story that doesn't need a thousand words,
or even ten, but could be completed in a sentence.
it comes like rushing waves, or like silent streams, but
it comes like a river always, because words flow from your
pencil or keyboard, or typewriter, and heart, they flow straight onto
blank paper, a steady stream of poetic thought. the whole act of
poetry is a wonder of brilliance, for it brings a subtle enchantment
to the world. when you read it, it fills your heart with flutters of emotion,
which no one can control. the connection between the writer and their words are so deep, the poetry is a part of them, a link to their very inner-selves. poetry is moving. like the wind in the middle of the day in it's invisibility and the comfort it gives as it passes us by, poetry is much the same, the true meaning can often be invisible (even to the writer themselves) but the moment it's read, it's comfort passes by us,
straight to our heart, and touches us.