Young Writers Society

I.

here, underneath this moon, is where i found you sitting, with your legs crossed, looking up at the sky.
here, underneath this sky, is where you turned and looked to me, and told me all about the aliens in your dreams.
here, underneath this spotlight of the whole world watching, is where i took your face in both hands and god, when we kissed, it was like fireworks and shooting stars and flying comets all at once.
did you feel it, sweetheart? how the world got dimmer the second we stopped touching. the second our skin wasn't attached to skin, you were a thousand miles away
and i was lost in the neverending chase of finding you.
here, underneath the blanket of darkness, blotted out by stars, is where i bit your lip too hard and forgot to say sorry.
here, underneath all your expectations and so many of my failures, you crumbled into dust and blew between my fingers faster than i could put you back together.
you were never meant to be mine, i guess.
but here, underneath a sky that looks nothing like the one you showed me, i sit cross legged, waiting for you to come back.
would you sit down next to me and take my hand, if you did?
would your skin be tan and warm from the long ago set sun, and would i taste it like before?
would you let all of yourself crumble inside of me if i begged?
would you look back?

*Richard Siken- A Litany in which Certain Things are Crossed Out

II.
i walked away thinking about you.
thinking, if he'd let someone else talk,
we might get somewhere.
i walked away thinking, if he ever shapes up,
maybe we'll talk again.
ha.
you never shape up, do you?
you paint my soliloquies across your chest and call them your own,
you let the words bleed out onto your chest when it rains,
and then you say sorry, the dog ate your note,
what did you need picked up from the store?
i walked away thinking about you.
i hope you take better care of the box of your old t-shirts than you did my dog.

Awww

these are both so sad T_T Keep going! Let's see if you end up writing peppy stuff by the end of April XD

Every time I read your poems I'm cast in a spell. Just fixated. A spell out of voice and emotions, and love, love and so on

I don't want the spell to end ;-;

III.
i held a heart in both hands.
it wasn't mine, but i knew it like my own.
there were scores of scars across the surface
but i could see deep inside a golden sunshine.
when i bit down, the pomegranate seeds were overwhelmingly sour.
i guess that just goes to show,
it can still be cold when the sun is shining.

@Aley do you even know me? Peppy? HA.
@Audy don't worry! I'm back! I just had a REALLY busy two weeks haha.

IV.
I pt. II

your skin is in my dreams.
i watch you, cover everything important to me with your body.
cover everything i care about until it's all you, it all comes back to you--
laying naked on my bed,
blotting out the flowers on the surface of a cotton blend walmart comforter,
i see the way your skin shines like you just got kissed by the a rainstorm.

maybe they're not dreams.

maybe everything is you, and the backs of your eyelids--
something your answering machine tells me i'll never see again--
are the maps i'm missing.
it all comes back to you.

me, sitting on our porch swing.
you, walking away.
me, retracing your foot prints until they're my own.
you, holding my hand until it's nothing without something in it.

NaPo is for challenges!

V.

honesty and truth.
a bright faced boy with blue eyes who knows how to lie.
honesty and truth--
and my fingers caught between the frame and the door, pinched until i can't feel
anymore.
honesty and truth, my mouth a jagged, painted line,
rubbed raw from your kisses that cut like--
shit, i lost my train of thought.

there's the gutter.
there's the stars.
look up, tell me the truth,
you never liked the way i kissed anyway, did you?

VI.


you are the thing that caught fire.
i looked down and my hands were covered in blisters.
the smell of soot was filling my lungs-- and damn,
is it hot in here?
i thought it might just be me, but your sweat no longer tastes like salt,
and i don't know, that seems like a bad sign to me.

the crumbling dust between your fingertips leaving a stain on my hands
that won't wash off.
you are the thing that burns everything it touches.
the smell of your perfume filling my lungs until there's no room for oxygen.
your sweat no longer strawberries on my lips,
i drink from you and i come back dehydrated every time.

VII.
V pt. II

you see, here is where your gutter is.
here is where you sit, your back against a damp brick wall,
and dream about stars.

you see, here is where you learn these days are never going to end.
you will always sit, criss cross applesauce, in my treehouse
you will always be higher than any of the treetops.

you will never find your way out of the gutter
because you can never find the stars with me standing in the way.
daddy wasn't a window maker, so get out of the way,
daddy wasn't a window maker, force yourself to look at the sky
no matter how bright the sun is.

I love all your poems <3 #7 is my favorite c: