Young Writers Society

Loose Thread and Sewing Needles

You.
Me.
Drifting.
Try to heal.
My bones have indents.
My sweater has a hole in it.
Some things will just never be the same, and it's unfair.
I never asked for a second-hand heart; you just made me one because you wanted to.
The sweater will never be the same, thanks to you.
Some loose thread can't fix everything.
It will not fix me.
I will heal.
Someday,
Soon?
No.

Poetry Mache

I am a drop in the ocean,
a grain of sand on the beach,
a planet in the galaxy.
We spend our whole lives being called special,
one-of-a-kind,
but two identical snowflakes were discovered in '88.

I have never said anything original,
every word I say is a remake of someone else,
every opinion I have because someone taught me to,
and someone taught them,
and someone invented having opinions.
Oh, to be the first intelligent creatures,
the first one to use language,
to write something,
to write a poem.

Sometimes, I wonder why I bother writing,
every letter is the same as everyone else's,
the themes I use used by someone better,
I reach for the stars,
but the stars have all been grabbed by someone else.
The sky is empty,
too empty to have room for me.

I will never be one of the greats.
The chances are one in eight billion,
all of the greats are already better than me.
I am eons behind,
scribbling on their coattails,
hanging their footprints on my wall.

But I keep returning to the page.
Like water returning to the sea,
like sand blowing to the same beach,
like planets orbiting their star.
I will never be special.
I will never write a poem that hasn't been written before.
But I can't stop being the water, the sand, the planet,
I can't stop returning to my fellow poets.
Many will surpass me,
maybe I'll never surpass any,
but I will learn to feel at home,
waving to the greats from the dirt.

Heart-Colored Mulch

Every love story is doomed to die.
It's a part of life, I assume.
Sometimes, it doesn't matter how much we try,
life only destroys and consumes.
What was the exact moment we were doomed?
The moment our hearts hardened?
It doesn't matter, we're already entombed
because I buried our love in my garden.

I think that was a mistake, Skye.
Because I see your face in every tulip bloom.
I promised myself that was our final goodbye,
but now your jokes are growing on the mushrooms.
I bought pesticide to get rid of you,
but everything grew back sharpened.
Now, the lavender smells like your perfume
because I buried our love in my garden.

I don't know what this implies.
I want my life to resume,
but your name is the only thing the frogs cry.
Your hair is woven in the cardinal's plume.
I taste your lips in every fruit I consume.
Your weeds are infesting my very organs.
Now, my garden only grows our gloom
because I buried our love in my garden.

Now I'm living on our fumes.
Maybe this is a sign we're not done.
Our future rot looms,
so I buried our love in my garden.

Stardust to Starshine

White stardust,
It’s been millennia since we’ve spoken.
You are the subject of every dream.
You refused to fight for me,
and I am something rotting away.

You drown out the stars and the moon.
I am forever in twilight.
Is that all life will ever be?

Bars of gold,
I was once something magnificent.
I hold on to that hope,
we'll live as stars eternal,
daughter of the sun.

Self-sacrifice is beautiful.
Why am I so insignificant?
I long to feel warm for a moment.
I am demanding an execution.

Storm Watchers

i already feel the storm coming
the clouds fog up my sacred space
the forest is set a-humming
draw up a chair to this ruined place
i'll make a fresh batch of popcorn
together, we'lll watch the world get torn
asunder, the rip as clear as day
we'll watch the sky shudder in pain
maybe we'll find ourselves in its expanse
maybe we'll tear all the same
you'll shove me in the rain and teach me to dance.

love, what is the sky becoming?
i no longer recoginze its face
the clouds are wailing and shuddering
the sun bows its head in disgrace
the moon is jagged like a thorn
the stars have all started to mourn
maybe we're all washed away in the rain
clinging on to rafts of pure disdain
maybe our love was only a trance
and hatred is startling awake
you shoved me in the rain and taught me to dance.

maybe it's time to start running
maybe we're something i can't replace
do you love me? are you succumbing
to the idea you're misplaced?
baby i'm tired, our love is worn
but did i have to lose to scorn?
the lightning burns down our great reign
we have nothing left here to gain
but we could find something perhaps
but it's probably in vane
just shove me in the rain and teach me to dance

please lie to me that there's something
lie to me as your last embrace
i always loved you for your cunning
but now it's the reason we're displaced
i ignored the sirens, but i was warned
and now the thunder and i are forlorn
maybe one day we can try again
but until then, you'll be in my veins
i wish you told me this was my last chance
to swaddle your heart like a stain
now shove me in the rain and teach me to dance

at least the sky is still thundering
something to hold on to in this daze
the storm makes you sound like nothing
and that's the new feeling I have to chase
i wish i was never born
i wish our love couldn't die, just transform
but the thunder drowns out my refrain
i'm a bubble in a hurricane
the lightening strikes and i collapse
the tornado never changes
please shove me in the rain and teach me to dance

our home is engulfed in electric flame
maybe this could only end one way
and ours was always a doomed romance
i pour a glass of watered-down champagne
i live in the rain and learn how to dance

Prodigal Nation

What is lost cannot be found.
We can never make a sound,
just make our bed in the ground.
Make sure our hands are still bound
and don our burial gowns.
Soon we'll see freedom around,
far away in the distance,
knowing we'll never be found.

Compass Pointing South

I went to a seer about us,
but she couldn't see what was coming.
I sliced open my palm to help her,
but the blood shrivelled; hid in my skin.
I don't know what to expect from you.

You always told me I was enough,
but told me I was unbecoming.
You're the one who wrapped and salved my burn,
but you are who let the fire in.
I recoil from your every hue.

You always did call me your surplus,
but you tossed me like I was nothing.
And somehow, my broken heart still yearns.
The subconscious can't understands ends.
You were ever the best of the few.

Thanks to you, now my heart is upchurned.
It splinters into my veins within,
so now hear the heartbreak flood come due.

Heart to Heart

Am I worthy of being loved?
Out of all the souls on Earth,
from heaven to hell to below,
what makes me special?
What makes me worthy?
Prove I'm more than dirt,
and promise you love me.

You are worthy of being loved
A soul most precious since birth
Not another common fellow
A perfumed petal
I know this firmly
My haven in hurt
My promise; on my knee

Ghost of Her

Don't tell me to move on.
She's still here,
living in the color of the walls,
breathing through the china.
I have spent years collecting pieces,
and put together they make her heart.

I clasp hands with her shadow.
Don't tell me to move on.
She is a tattoo across my soul;
intertwined with the roots of my hair.
She still giggles at my jokes
in the way the roses bloom.

She's still in her favorite pot,
winking at me from the recipe footnotes.
Don't tell me to move on.
Or she won't be there to usher me to eat
by making her mother's food smell like home.
She'll stop looking out for me.

Who else would I dance with in the stars?
The night sky is just like her favorite dress,
and the constellations are our love notes.
Don't tell me to move on.
She exists in ways I cannot touch,
but you cannot take away from me.

I dream of her coming home,
her grin as she jumps into my arms.
She has come home a thousand times.
Her footprints still stain the path.
Don't tell me to move on.
Her visits are all I have.

They say a person dies twice:
once their heart stops beating,
and once their name is uttered
for the last time.
I am her life-line.
Don't tell me to move on.

Shadow Puppets

Sometimes, rot is deeper than the surface.
During these times, we learn to flay the skin before we mourn.
Take a butter knife, sharpen it in expectations, find the indents in all their promises, and cut along it.
Inspect the person's soul under a searchlight until you can see shadow puppets form.
Count the shadow puppets. Once. Twice. Several times over until your eyes bleed.
When you take your heart out of the lockbox, make sure you know who you're giving it to.
These are trying times, and a heart only works in mint condition.
After that, it only knows how to self-destruct.

Everything Made Sense a Day Ago

I have done everything for you. You
used it as a way to take everything I had. Had
you not stolen enough of my dreams? Dreams
of our future keep me disturbed. Disturbed,
broken hearts have nowhere to go. Go
ahead and leave me for someone brighter. Brighter
days are only achieved by purging our together. Her
smile was better than mine, right? Write
me off as just a first love. Love
is sacrifice, and that's all I have done for you. You
depended on my blindness, and you won. One
day, I wasn't entertaining enough. Enough
of your precious time had been wasted. Wasted
all my everything, and you didn't care. Care
for me again; as you said, you always did. Did
I do something wrong to push you away? A way
out of the darkness refuses to show. Show
me how you could lie so easily. Easily,
I lost you even though I fought to keep you. You
call yourself a caged bird, and now you sing. Sing
all of the sacrifices that were never enough to please. Please
come back home and sing love songs to soothe me to sleep. Sleep
is impossible without you in our bed. Bed
deep in my brain and never come out. Out
of the light, I have festered your rot. Rot
out all of my heart's peace. Peace.

tell me one thing love
how do i learn gibberish
to understand your stories

simply blow your ears
wipe your nose with a q-tip
knock down your walls of reason

but reason grounds me
it keeps me safe from cliffsides
do you want me to free-fall

walk on the ceiling
gravity is a construct
you're letting it limit you

i want to love you
but you're asking me to fall
aren't i supposed to trust you

i will make you dance
trust is second to passion
protection? i'll make you live