Young Writers Society

Home » Forums » Special Events » NaPoWriMo

echoes in the margins



User avatar
30 Reviews



Gender: nonbinary
Points: 2055
Reviews: 30




User avatar
30 Reviews



Gender: nonbinary
Points: 2055
Reviews: 30
Wed Mar 31, 2021 5:23 pm
View Likes
atlast says...



0.

echoes in the margins

the pen meets paper
and ink slams on to the page
i will write again
atlast

previously AtlasWut

review requests are open!

resources for lgbt+ people

my pms are always open <3
  





User avatar
30 Reviews



Gender: nonbinary
Points: 2055
Reviews: 30
Thu Apr 01, 2021 9:36 pm
View Likes
atlast says...



traffic

the highway is clogged
because a truck stalled within
the intersection

car horns are blaring
filling the air with noise that
is heard miles away
-
the last time we spoke
my thoughts were a traffic jam
my eyes red stop lights

you speed through the streets
the treads on your tires fade
and your headlights crack


my rib cage hugs my heart like an airbag
protecting me from your bitter words as I wave a white flag
atlast

previously AtlasWut

review requests are open!

resources for lgbt+ people

my pms are always open <3
  





User avatar
30 Reviews



Gender: nonbinary
Points: 2055
Reviews: 30
Fri Apr 02, 2021 9:39 pm
View Likes
atlast says...



moving day

the floor boards creak your name as i pad down the stairs.
i try to forget the last words you said to me,
but they line my brain
like the cardboard boxes that hold your things
line my floors.

the uhaul driver honks the horn of his truck,
ripping me from the memories that float in the dust.
i trace your name, coating my finger with grey
and walk over to the first box

we're nine years old, rolling down a grassy hill
as green stains paint our tshirts
and we giggle in the sun.
later, lemonade drips down our puckering faces
and our skin glows red
from the hours of making memories

that night, i toss and turn,
my scraped knees stinging against the sheets of my bed.
i am unaware that tomorrow was a promise
that you were never able to keep.


my bones scream as i lift
countless boxes full of memories.
tears stream down the hills that are cheeks
and the driver of the truck that will carry you away
makes a funny face.

we are eighteen years old, shouting at each other
and hurling insults at each other's feet.
our days are no longer filled with grassy hills
and lemonade
but the words you say to me
will scar much longer than my knees.

that night, i toss and turn,
my battered heart fighting against
the hug of my rib cage.
i do not understand why you decided
you no longer wanted to share a tomorrow.


as the sun sets, i crawl under my sheets.
the crackle of the gravel under the uhaul's tires
echoes in my mind, mingling with the sound
of your nearly forgotten laughter.

my body curls into a question mark
and i brush my fingertips over the scars on my kneecaps.
despite the protest between my lungs,
a wistful smile splits my face in two and i whisper,
"see you tomorrow."
atlast

previously AtlasWut

review requests are open!

resources for lgbt+ people

my pms are always open <3
  





User avatar
136 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 8990
Reviews: 136
Sat Apr 03, 2021 2:37 pm
View Likes
Liminality says...



A strong start with this, Atlas!

I really liked the development of the traffic image in this first poem here:

my eyes red stop lights

you speed through the streets


The sensory imagery in the second poem here was also great. It's very vivid, almost too-vibrant, which gives that bit the feel of a fond memory turned painful.

I also like the juxtaposition between the "wistful smile" and how it violently "splits" the speaker's face.
    Here for the in-betweens and the left-behinds, the unconsidered,
    the out-of-this-world.

  • Pronouns? Any, to be honest!
  • I spend a sizeable chunk of my time in Poem a Week and the Worst Poem thread.
  • You can also come yell at me in WFPs.
  





User avatar
30 Reviews



Gender: nonbinary
Points: 2055
Reviews: 30
Sun Apr 04, 2021 2:31 am
View Likes
atlast says...



a portrait of myself as a quaking aspen

the withered leaves of my thoughts tremble in the wind,
rustling against the bark that guards my memories.
black knots protrude from the white wood beneath my scalp
and pollutes the sugar-sweet sap that leaks from my twisted smile.
my cheeks burn a rare red hue
and my rings no longer show my age.

i am tired,
but my roots reach out into the soil.
they call out to you
because you, despite your acidic words
and dried-out pretenses,
have become the reason that i continue to grow.


Image
atlast

previously AtlasWut

review requests are open!

resources for lgbt+ people

my pms are always open <3
  





User avatar
30 Reviews



Gender: nonbinary
Points: 2055
Reviews: 30
Mon Apr 05, 2021 2:12 am
View Likes
atlast says...



what to do when the trauma piles up

1. i don't know.
2. scream. scream until your vocal chords are raw with fury and the most you can manage the next morning is a whisper.
3. try to forget.
4. but not forever. you need to rest, but one day you must come and face the wolves. they will continue to howl in the back of your mind until you do.
5. be destructive, but not towards yourself. rip paper into shreds that get caught underneath your fingernails. hit your pillows so hard they no longer hug your head as you sleep. snap every pink-erasered pencil you can find in half, then burn the pile in your backyard. it is okay to be angry, and to let that anger out, but do not make yourself suffer anymore than you already are.
6. keep yourself busy. reorganize all your clothes by color. that same night, by category. paint your nails every shade of green you can find. see how long you can go without picking it off. watch every season of your favorite show consecutively and laugh at the jokes, even when they aren't funny. sometimes the best way to heal is in the background.
7. make a list. it's easier than you'd think.
8. be vulnerable. call that friend you haven't talked to in a while. whisper your deepest secrets into your pet's ear and know they won't tell anyone. write your biggest fears onto a napkin then eat something messy. let your thoughts splatter on the walls of your heart.
9. grow. lean into the sun because sometimes you have to burn, to watch your skin peel off in sheets, before the softness sets in. trust that even when your petals begin to wither, the spring will bring with it flowers just as beautiful.
10. remember. remember, that even though it feels like it most days, this is not the end. what happened to you may have pulled leaves from your branches, but your roots will hold up against the strongest of winds. you will always shine brighter than your darkest days. prove it.
Last edited by atlast on Wed Apr 07, 2021 4:12 pm, edited 1 time in total.
atlast

previously AtlasWut

review requests are open!

resources for lgbt+ people

my pms are always open <3
  





User avatar
136 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 8990
Reviews: 136
Mon Apr 05, 2021 2:36 pm
View Likes
Liminality says...



Hiya Atlas!

The aspens poem has such evocative descriptions! Even the title, "quaking", makes me think of windblown trees. My favourite line was:

black knots protrude from the white wood beneath my scalp


I just love the comparisons between white wood and the skull!

Your list poem has a lot of momentum from line to line, which makes for a dramatic read. Item no.#7 "make a list" is a really nice touch, too, and it did catch me off guard at just the right moment when I read it. Then on the second read, I realised that wind + branches image kind of links back to the aspen poem, which is really neat. I also enjoyed the image of the napkin. It feels like something very everyday and mundane but you've assigned new meanings to it.
Keep going!
    Here for the in-betweens and the left-behinds, the unconsidered,
    the out-of-this-world.

  • Pronouns? Any, to be honest!
  • I spend a sizeable chunk of my time in Poem a Week and the Worst Poem thread.
  • You can also come yell at me in WFPs.
  





User avatar
73 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 4634
Reviews: 73
Tue Apr 06, 2021 12:41 pm
View Likes
kattee says...



O.k. Can I just say? How do you write so much good work? I’m just-- meanwhile, I’m slow but that’s potentially because i’m talentless. But that’s besides the point. Focusing on your works, I just realised how similar Lim, You, and my poems are in terms of structure? Having a series of connected haikus? Does that mean great minds think alike personally remove the great in mine BUT I’m going in tangents so

traffic
Spoiler! :

It’s actually quite great that you used a clogged traffic as the mirror for your thoughts. It definitely gives that chaotic, stifling, and unsettling vibe. I thoroughly hate traffic since so much of my time is wasted which could also allude to how there are thoughts we just have to let go. That there are thoughts we shouldn’t explore further because it’s counter-productive; this might probably be where overthinking is borne from. They don’t help in any way.

I love the last two haikus because it completely drives home the idea that some thoughts can really be destructive. And it’s quite interesting actually, that the person, the speaker was talking to was “destroyed in the process” >> which is powerful, because in a fight, or argument, both sides were scarred (well, one felt it to a higher degree but still).


moving day
Spoiler! :


I liked this poem! I think the best part is the structure. It subtly hints at one of his/her main feelings in the poem, which is reluctance. “Moving day” is similar to moving on and he/she couldn’t seem to imagine doing and that’s possibly why the poem intentionally drags us or is quite slow paced.

my body curls into a question mark

^^ love the imagery here. It shows how he’s still in a quandary-- still in the process of digesting what had occurred that day.

AND ALSO:
the hug of my rib cage

This is a reference to your previous poem!! Does that mean they’re connected? And that this is more of the background story? That’s really clever!



... quaking aspen
Spoiler! :

OH MY ARE THEY ALL CONNECTED? Is this like the stages of moving on? Because this is somehow the first stage: loneliness + hopelessness. And my, I feel bad for the speaker, he/she’s literally been abused/manipulated in the relationship, given the last few lines. It’s so evident how toxic it might’ve been.



...when trauma piles up
Spoiler! :

Ok. That’s it. I’m convinced that they’re all connected. Toxic or abusive relationships can cause trauma and this is literally the speaker doing his/her best to move on! This is genuinely my favourite poem as of now. Probly, because I’m biased since I need to take some of the advice here ((5 and 6 sksks)). This was such a great poem because the tone felt quite gentle, which is what someone who’s undergone trauma needs. It was written in a tone that genuinely wants to help instead of patronising.


Looking forward to more of your works!! They’re DEFINITELY CONNECTED. You c a n n o t convince me otherwise!
If you want some sweet reviews to your poems, short stories, and essays, come by Katteelog.

Have a lovely day❤️
  





User avatar
30 Reviews



Gender: nonbinary
Points: 2055
Reviews: 30
Tue Apr 06, 2021 12:56 pm
View Likes
atlast says...



Kattee, thank you so much! All of this incredible feedback made my entire day!

As for all of the references between poems, I didn't write them to be connected, but I think that's where I'm going to go from there! I didn't realize how they all intertwined and meshed together.

One more thing, don't cut yourself short. You're a wonderful person and writer.

All my love
~A
atlast

previously AtlasWut

review requests are open!

resources for lgbt+ people

my pms are always open <3
  





User avatar
30 Reviews



Gender: nonbinary
Points: 2055
Reviews: 30




User avatar
30 Reviews



Gender: nonbinary
Points: 2055
Reviews: 30
Wed Apr 07, 2021 5:11 pm
View Likes
atlast says...



i'm sick of writing love poems for people i've never met

i don't remember the last time i wrote one for myself.
i have created countless bouquets of words,
so many that my word processor looks like a garden on my screen,
but i keep poking myself on the thorns.

i don't know what it is.
i have love pouring out of every orifice of my body,
enough to span oceans,
natheless the chamber of my heart labeled "self love"
continues to run dry.

i don't know why i haven't learned to love myself yet.
my body carries me from place to place
and lets me wander through the garden of life,
even if it doesn't yet fit the mold i created for myself
my mind is my essence,
it weaves my experiences into a flower crown
for everything i have yet to become,
even when it is at its most fatigued.

it isn't easy.
most days my spirit is a question mark,
curled into itself because i can't write about myself
the way i do to the ghosts that plant weeds
in the corners of my mind.
atlast

previously AtlasWut

review requests are open!

resources for lgbt+ people

my pms are always open <3
  





User avatar
30 Reviews



Gender: nonbinary
Points: 2055
Reviews: 30
Thu Apr 08, 2021 3:19 am
View Likes
atlast says...



the sun sets...

the honey-comb blaze
drifts into the hazy clouds.
finally, she rests.


...so the moon can rise

the goddess of tides
stretches her arms toward the stars.
now, her craters beam.
atlast

previously AtlasWut

review requests are open!

resources for lgbt+ people

my pms are always open <3
  





User avatar
30 Reviews



Gender: nonbinary
Points: 2055
Reviews: 30
Fri Apr 09, 2021 12:36 am
View Likes
atlast says...



the fishing net

do you remember the last time we went fishing?
the sun beat down on us like a blanket of arrows in wartime
and the grass tickled our knees like cotton candy from the county fair.
you had a net slung around your shoulders like a cape and
it blew in the breeze as we walked to the lake.

the water was a cool cerulean that lapped against our ankles
once we threw our shoes to the side and waded in.
you took the net in both hands, flinging it out into the waves,
a grin consuming your features as dreamed of the creatures
that were finally in our reach.

we leaned back onto the grassy hill as we waited,
our net cast and hungry for fish.
we sat for hours, reminiscing on memories made
and mused about our futures together.
the nets in our neurons filled to the brink of splitting
with dreams of a partnership like none other.

our fishing net, however, wasn't as lucky.
when you threw it into the lake, it stirred up all the fishes
and they swam away, wary of the possibility of capture.
the few guppies that stayed behind were so small
they fit through the gaps of the net as effortlessly.
it was like the net was never cast in the first place.

we returned home empty handed that day,
the fishing net wrung between our fists like children
clutching their comforter at bedtime.
we weren't angry about our fishy failure.
instead, we laughed, our twin smiles gleaming in the
orange-red light of the sunset.

you see,
we are not like that fish net.
the love we share is a closly knit wool blanket
wrapped around our hearts as they beat in time
and we dream about that time
we went fishing.
atlast

previously AtlasWut

review requests are open!

resources for lgbt+ people

my pms are always open <3
  





User avatar
136 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 8990
Reviews: 136
Fri Apr 09, 2021 2:14 pm
View Likes
Liminality says...



Hiya again, Atlas! I've been loving the colour imagery in all these poems so far <3 And the sense of continuity in theme is strong, too - I get the impression that a lot of these poems are about life-force and love in some form or another~

I adore what you did with 'death shall bring clementines'. "wax-melt sun" is such an interesting image and I love the allusion to the myth of Icarus, as well.

In 'i'm sick of writing . . . ' you had a clever play on the idea of a 'love poem' and developed it throughout the poem with some earnest lines, but also some really picturesque and atmospheric ones as well. I particularly liked "ghosts that plant weeds/
in the corners of my mind." The weeds seem very symbolic of clinging or the past and I think that image says a lot.

The two haiku are vivid and full of energy. "honey-comb blaze" brings to mind a really bright sunset, almost dream-like, and "craters beam" feels very abstract and dream-like as well.

Similarly there's a lot of vivid, colourful imagery in 'the fishing net', and I love the central metaphor - or rather, the denial of the metaphor. Saying love doesn't work like a fishing net is a nice and unexpected twist.

You're doing great with this! <33
    Here for the in-betweens and the left-behinds, the unconsidered,
    the out-of-this-world.

  • Pronouns? Any, to be honest!
  • I spend a sizeable chunk of my time in Poem a Week and the Worst Poem thread.
  • You can also come yell at me in WFPs.
  








i exist in a constant state of confusion so its ok
— veeran