Young Writers Society

no matter how old i get, chicken nuggets will always be a staple in my pantry

the oven timer screamed in my ears and the steam
hit my face like a brick as i took the chicken nuggets out
onto the stove-top to cool.
my mother was standing at my side.
her forehead, a roadmap of worries because
her youngest son was being carted away to the hospital,
my dad speeding just behind the ambulance in our battered four-door.

a few moments of tense silence passed between us.
i didn’t know what to say.
“i’m sorry i couldn’t help more”
“why does he keep doing this?”
“it’s gonna be okay, mommy.”
“doesn’t he know how much this hurts us?”
i was in second grade.
most days i would come home from school,
throw my backpack onto the floor,
and help my parents rebuild whichever memory my brother
had broken that day.

we shoveled the nuggets onto flimsy paper plates,
decorating them with condiments and off-brand potato chips.
for a moment, things almost felt normal
as i asked my other brother if he wanted any ketchup.
my siblings, mother, and i sat around the table,
our plates and thoughts full of the aftermath of my brother’s storm.

the chicken burned my tongue when i realized
this day would not be an isolated incident.
it didn’t matter how old i got,
i was always going to be the one helping my parents
pick up the pieces my brother couldn’t help
but cast to the floor.

from that day forward, i hated chicken nuggets.

now, i am entering my first year of college
and i still don’t understand why my brother continues
to crack the foundations of my memories.
i know it isn’t his fault,
not really,
but i continue to color him in with
that same blame colored crayon
that i used that night we had
chicken nuggets for dinner.

i don’t remember what happened after that.
the earthquake of my brother created aftershocks
that scrambled my recollection of that night, and many others,
but i do know this:
countless chicken nuggets have found their way into my pantry
and into my roiling stomach on the stormiest days of my life.
the familiarity of the bland, breaded bird on my tongue
was able to turn on the lights of my battered brain and
remind me that i was still there.

that being said,
i don’t hate chicken nuggets anymore.
while the memories they call forward sting almost as much
as the steam of a 450 degree oven,
but i’ve learned to bask in the warmth of the sun after the storm
rather than burn in it.

wait thank you so much! i was afraid to post that one because the ending was pretty rushed. i wasn't happy with it because i wasn't sure what y'all would think but i'm so happy you like it <3333

HEY! It’s just been a few days since I last wrote a comment here and i couldnt believe you were able to write some lovely poems.

Death shall bring clementines


i’m sick of writing love poems for ...



the sun sets...so the moon can rise



the fishing net


no matter how old i get....

the terrestrial planets

mercury
smallest of the bunch,
he races 'cross the twilight,
baking in the sun.

venus
the sister planets
could not be more different.
she can't help but roil.

earth
mother nature sings.
green and blue flourishes forge
everlasting life.

mars
god of war himself,
the red planet weeps as he
dreams of past peace.

i'm tired

i long for sleep like a
wasp yearns for its hive
after it is harvested
for everything sweet inside.

the mere thought of a
warm blanket and it's
soft, fluffy embrace
pulls me evercloser
to my bed.

it hasn't been but 12 hours,
but that is far too many
from the last time i closed
my eyes, drawing the lids closed
like a jar of jam after breakfast.

it is late,
and my bed beckons for me.
my mouth stretches open with
a yawn that could start sandstorms
but i musn't sleep yet.

there is so much to do,
and not enough time to do it.
so, i sit in my chair,
daydreaming of the moment
my head hits the pillow.

what we left behind

you left your hoodie at my house
but i don’t have the heart to tell you.
on the nights i can’t sleep,
i bundle up in it like a kitten burrowed
against its mother and fall into the
memory of your warm embrace.
-
i left a piece of my heart with you
when you said i finally had to leave.
on the days i can’t get out of bed,
i imagine you, bundled up with it
like baby bird snuggled up in it’s nest
and i hope that you still fall into the
memory of what we used to be.

ouch

a dull knife slices
up and down both of my jaws.
i need a dentist.

Hiya Atlas!

- I really liked how you described Mars in that poem!"the red planet weeps/ as he dreams of past peace" is so poignant and evocative, and it doubles as both a personification of the actual planet and a metaphor to describe the god of war, too.

-

the butterflies in my stomach
flew into the webs in my lungs

This is such a fascinating image! I feel like adding "webs" to the usual butterflies description for this ~fluttery~ feeling doubles down on the flutteriness and makes the emotion even more intense.

-

wasp yearns for its hive
after it is harvested
for everything sweet inside.

This image is a really insightful perspective on a wasp and I love it. It emphasises this feeling of being drained to a poem about wanting to go to sleep.

-

like a kitten burrowed
against its mother and fall into the
memory of your warm embrace.

This was already a lovely simile, but then you added "fall into the memory . . . " which makes it even better, linking the more concrete image to the more abstract almost :]

You're doing amazing! <3

untitled

i sit on my shower floor,
and the water streams down my back,
like the tears on your cheeks when i said,
"i can't do this anymore."

i wish i could've made you understand
love and toxicity can coexist.
i love you. that never changed.
but there was a side of you that
brought out the worst in me,
and that didn't change either.

sometimes, you have to give up
what you love to save yourself.

every day my arms ache with longing.
i would do anything to hold you as you fall asleep,
but your skin is coated with a dart-frog venom
that sharpens your words into knives.
if i let you stay, the good in me would have
bled out on my shower floor,
filling me with a poison that has
no antidote.

let’s hang out

we haven’t talked in months.
when you reached out, i thought our
conversations would be as stale as
the loaf of bread i left out the other day.
that we would end up sitting in your car
in a fast food parking lot
munching on our food, the only sound
the taylor swift drifting out of your
tinny speakers.

we actually ended up paying too much
for spaghetti and steaks,
catching up and making new memories
as we drove through the rich side of town.
it was nice.
i hadn’t gone out with anyone in a long time.
neither had you.

i’m glad we got to hang out.

in theory

i love snow, but only in theory
because the last time i went outside
without a coat on i caught the flu
and couldn't leave my bed for a week.

i love you, but only in theory
because the last time we tried to be honest
with each other you took my heart
off my sleeve and threw it to the wolves.

i didn't leave my bed for weeks.

Hey <3 I hope you’re alright <3 <3. I read the “ouch” poem and if yi need someone to talk to or smth, just drop by my inbox <3 or if it’s in the context of the poem itself, oh my goodness I EMPATHISE WITH U. Had 2 of my wisdom teeth removed around dec 2019? It’s literally been a year and the memory still haunts me.

Oh and I won’t be following the usual formula. I’d want to note about the poems that really caught my attention : ))

what we left behind


untitled


let’s hang out

Okay obviously I'm going to be a big fan of the chicken poetry one, because CHICKENS!! but also Atlas, I think what you did with that planet poem series is really fabulous! And every bit of "in theory" is just really nicely done, the turn in the 2nd stanza is really catching, and the metaphor of snow to love has a lot of depth to consider / explore.

Well done so far!!