Young Writers Society

13.25 confessions

forgive me for being blessed
(i want to preach to be holy
but i believe that i'm impure)
but holy water became blemished when i bled
(you stabbed me with my words,
you hung me with my actions.)
will i be burned for witchcraft
or will it be for playing god?
(i know my view of earth is cynical,
but can i be blamed when you exist?)
do you care for what i am?
does it define every single thing of my existence?
(i think that it's weird how we all divide ourselves over belief,
because it's funny seeing people scream at eachother over what's right
(the real answer is all of the above,
because life is a multiple choice question test, not short answer))

14. tonight, under moonlit lightbulbs
i'd like for there not to be just black and white rigid lines
it's funny cause i suppose that i was the one who defined them
amidst my rigidity. i know that was wrong of me but it's
you had done for me. (i want? you want? we want? to break
these arrays of groups and to find out why i made these,
but i finilazied my plans.) i wish (i think) that i should blur
these lines and just have greys. (but we both know
how that ends) i think (i wish) to create an eclipse of my heart
and erase that night under sunlit curtains. (maybe instead,
tonight, under moonlit lightbulbs, we can share this moment
and forget & undo all of our wounds with stars & comets)

15. i've been writing the same thing over and over
i repeat myself too often and it's getting old;
(i am scared of being forgotten
i wonder when this hell will stop)
i'm just another flatline
sorry for all the mess i've caused by being alive
(but if i go in fast-forward
what am i supposed to remember you by?)
chasing nightmares that i wish i had
kindling fires in my heart using the promise of love
(i wonder if my code was made to be this way,
because the clay of my skin has dried out.)
i collected all the pieces of myself, there's no use in crying
but you are a torrential downpour and i am a light drizzle
(the rain passes by but you can hear my cries
can you hug me as i cry?)
is this involuntary movement or the curse of being built inside out
because even a fool would act like this
(ropes wring around necks like snakes too easy
it’s hard to think about the future knowing that my present is stuck in stone)

you know i've always wondered what life would be like if/when/while i die.
what happens when i have left the mortal plane
("i yearn for something" i said this, knowing full well why.)
the sun lies to us with its beauty we forget it also hurts us too
(i yearn to be beautiful, i yearn to be yours,
i am filled with lovesickness, you'll eventually see more.)
to you i am the glitch in the system & she was the silver lining
(i suppose that i am orpheus and you are eurydice,
i took a glimpse of the past and now you are gone)
when the turtle leaves the hare, will the hare find new meaning?
such a mundane life, yet maybe i yearned for this simplicity
yet you are like the hare in the story with the ocean king
(maybe [you]'re just watching the world go by
i think i'm hung up on the past / present / future)
i think that it's weird how we all divide ourselves over belief, we both know
how that ends

15.5 collage of my <3

text version:

16. humans are inhumane

in·hu·mane
/ˌin(h)yo͞oˈmān/
adjective
without compassion for misery or suffering; cruel.
"confining wild horses is inhumane"

i think that humans often misunderstand what i mean
when i say i am drowning in my own words
(they are the ones holding my head in the water)
it's inhumane to be human, because we are not perfect
(we always want to be "modest", but we cross modesty with self-infatuation)
it's human to be inhumane, because we are all have blurred lines of good & evil
(it's strange to think that us humans treat eachother so poorly)

hu·mane
/hyo͞oˈmān/
adjective
having or showing compassion or benevolence.
"regulations ensuring the humane treatment of animals"

benevolence is also a false truth
(if you & i are small fish,
is society our angler?)
to be benevolent is to be holy (in your eyes)
(in my eyes) we are not holy, are we?
(and while we might be, i've tied a blindfold around my eyes,
so i can see no evil, hear none, and say none.)

17. imitation is the sincerest form of flattery (1)
with lines borrowed from @Ley, @WeepingWisteria, @KateHardy, @Spearmint, @Quillfeather, @Willard, @SilverNight, @yosh, @LuminescentAnt, @niteowl, @alliyah in underline.
(note, i have changed some of the punctuation.)
imitation is the sincerest form of flattery (or so they say)
i am always trying to mirror what others do
(maybe there is water in the drought but i can't find any)
all I see are the wind blown footprints, and remanants of what i used to be
the audience stopped cheering, but the music didn't stop.
(i only know how to mimic others, & i hope they are appreciate it)
home is safe, like the first aid kit in the broom closet
but i am unaware of what "home" is (where am i?)
(maybe if i had a home i would feel safe, but something they don’t tell losers about winning is that victory is not eternal.)
i must have whispered too many questions in the dead of night
because as you repeated your warnings to not do anything stupid
you pushed me off the cliff along with my hopes & dreams
(time no longer flies it only sits in stagnance and i am a re/pea/ting re/e/cord)
shattering into pieces, snapping at the legs, you crushed me
(and my heart will never recover, or maybe it will.)
when we laughed at the river, and she told me not to go out too far i couldn't hear her
(you were there too, laughing when i slipped, fell, and d/row/ned)
every day i send desperate thoughts into the universe to no avail
(i think that maybe i've been trying to please others for too long.)

17.5 color by number (paint pallet)
i painted the sky crimson with blood red tears
(sapphire saline seeps from skin,
maroon hued heartache with hints of lavender)
it never looked the same even after i painted over it with bright green bile
the same bile from my pristine pink stomach
(i threw up my feelings, the blacks whites & grays, but you still held disdain)
i stained the floor yellow with said bile
i think it might have been acid.
(i tried to color by the numbers all my life,
but you stole my paintbrush and dunked it in water.)

18. awibi biwita (digital life)

abi ju bejo ago/o nikeki
(you are good and/or dangerous)
ab ju niteme ma nikinut ago teme kinut
(i am frail outside and brave inside)
abi ago ab ajo ju waimawenewiwan.
(you and i are imaginary.)

18.25 egocentric (underwater volcano)
my friends told me your opinion on me
(i didn't care, people fan your flames,
and feed you like you're a fish.)
i thought that i was a pristine coral reef
(and i still am, you are just a toxin that i'll remove.)
you think that you are the catalyst of all life
(beta fish, clownfish(you), angler fish,
starfish, seahorses, jellyfish, none of them were yours.)
in reality i am the reef and you are the danger
(a shark in my ocean, you'll go extinct,
if you drag me down i'll take you with me.)

18.5 nothing at all

i want to be something but i dont know what, and it hurts to be anything except a false version of myself-- i don't know who i am because i am everything they want me to be but nothing i'm supposed to be. i'm scared of being myself around others because what if they hate me-- i am my own parasite and i am a horrible person for not caring enough. but they never cared for me so i do not think they deserve my love anymore-- i gave but i never received, no return to sender on my mail. my attempts at empathy are pathetic and i don't want to be apathetic so i struggle to be anything at all-- and i am an onlooker to my actions. i act confident but i am a frail person on the inside so i am nothing at all

18.75 i didn't get the memo.
(the new lines are in parantheses, this is my first work in my portfolio, collection 1.)
toxicity (what does it mean to be toxic?)
toxic, toxic boy. (was that him or me?)
why must you taint
the water of my soul
the forest of my mind
the sky of my heart (i think that i was my own catalyst.)
kindle your demise (fires burn after they're put out.)
almost tainting your own soul
Alas, friendships shall not last.
Is this the fate of the one who pleas to all, and can no longer adjust? (this is a sad attempt at poetry.)
wilting (i too have wilted)
the sky shines blue
yet the water is red (i bled when you stabbed me
somehow i still feel you with me
but you are no longer there (an apparition.)
wilting (because of my actions)
wilting (because of my words)
the flowers are fragrant
but the sun is no longer out (the moon eclipsed my heart.)
the soil is dry
the rain is gone (yet the clouds are here)
wilting
wilting
the wilting has spread (due to me.)
and all are affected (maybe just you.)
what will it take to stop
wilting
wilting
blanking (i forgot what i was going to say.)
the pen and paper dance together
as if it were a recital (and everything i say is a recital.)
yet the ink runs out
the mind goes dry (and the heart still beats.)
and you can no longer remember
what you were (i was me)
what you are (i am you)
who you are (i am nothing)
who they are (you were everything)
what you did (i did an unspeakable crime.)
what you had (i spoke my mind.)
and you lay lifeless (i died)
ink dry (you hung me.)
mind blank (you erased me.)
who they are (they were me)
what you did (you changed them.)
what you had (i had you)
and you lay lifeless (you still hung me)
ink dry (while i was hugging you)
mind blank (i still died.)