Young Writers Society

Remember That Time the Candy Went Missing?
Dates Written: 4/20 & 4/30

“Guilt is a hunter.”

Remember that time the candy went missing?
...that was me.
You don't need to blame me for it, though. That was a long time ago.
I mean, I was only 14.
No I'm not 14 right now, what are you talking about?
I'm 15, for your information.

Can I tell you a secret?
I still regret it.
I regret every single time I stole something from you,
Whether it was a piece of candy,
your time,
your life.

I regret staying up late,
even when you told me I shouldn’t.
I regret procrastinating,
even though that didn’t impact you in any way.

I regret yelling at you.
Please understand;
I never wanted to hurt you…
…even if that’s what it sounded like.

I regret every mean thing I’ve ever said –
– to you
– to others.
Because even though you’ll never know
what I said when I yelled at my sister
I still hurt your child.
And I still wasn’t the daughter you wanted me to be.

Most of all,
I regret not thanking you for everything you’ve done for me,
even when I did nothing to deserve it.
So, thank you.
And I’m sorry.

It's Part of the Flower
Date Written: 4/18

Most people have things they're not proud of
I'm not proud of myself
I wish I could start over,
But would that really change anything?
(No)

Every word I speak
Or say
Or think
Is my new least favorite word
I want to claw it apart
Get rid of anything that I've used
Or maybe cuddle it
And apologize it had to be used by me.

The word I hate most is [My Name]
It's supposed to be beautiful,
But lately it's gone further than just wilting
It is dying, decomposing, gross and malicious to smell
And even worse to see
You can almost feel the goo sliding down the stem
The black sap that you can't wash off
(It's part of the flower)

This poem uses a metaphor used in the next poem, which might make it make a little more sense

I Wish I Had Wilted Sooner
Dates written: 3/23 & 4/30

I am a flower.

When I wilt,
Will anyone bury me under the earth?
Or will I lay on top of the grass
That once grew with me
And decompose into the soil?

Maybe someone else will grow out of me.
And maybe they will be better than I was,
Although I doubt it.
Because my soil can’t be fertile.
It must be hard and dry.
Like how I acted.
Like how I act.
Like how I am.

A flower never blooms in the shade,
And I took all the sun.
I buried the rest under darkness
While I stole their water,
And took away their fun.

As I bloom, a bee buzzes by.
He takes my nectar,
And my pollen.
I imagine the next flower he pollinates
Wilting
And dying
Because of me.

And then I wilt.
And contaminate the ground.
And all the grass dies with me.
If I hadn’t stolen from them,
I wouldn’t have grown,
And maybe the damage I would have done
Would’ve only been to myself.

I wish I had wilted sooner.

Stolen Words and Repeating Words
Dates Written: 4/18 & 4/30

Literally all the words I've said, I've stolen.
At least, if you don't count words like alfiyeogycj.
Very few of the things I say are genuine.
Even the ones that may seem like it.
Never trust me.
Don't like me.
Ever.
Really, I'm trying to protect you.

All the things I didn't need to promise,
because I thought I would never do them,
(How did I break promises I never made?)
I still broke anyway.
I didn’t think I had to tell myself
to be kind.
To not lie.
To be a good person.

(To be fair,
I don’t think anyone really thinks of that.)

At least some people stick with it.
For me? I just keep repeating the same mistakes over and over
like I keep repeating the same words over and over.
Hello.
Thank you.
I’m sorry.

The Horizon is the Sky's Smile
Dates Written: 4/18 & 4/30

The sky is bruised.
It cycles between black and blue
and the stars blanket its face like freckles.
The moon twirls through the sky,
unaware of the blanket it rests upon,
or unable to do anything about it.

The sun is it’s bully,
but the sky is its playground.
The sun bounces the sky around like a ball,
although the stars always thought it should be the other way around
(They’re ones to talk.
They have their own planets with their own skies.)

The sky is bruised,
but it looks down at the planet
at all the little apes, and smiles.
The horizon is the sky’s smile.

Everything Falls Down the Drain
Dates Written: 4/16 & 4/30

I can't stand the thought of myself that
I want to throw it all away and be rid of it
Be rid of me
I want to scrub every part of myself away
I want to let all the imperfections
(Which is all of me)
Splash against the bathroom tub
And sink into the pipes

My tears fall with the shower water cascading on my head
Thumping loudly on my brain
Telling me I am nothing

I can't tell where the water starts and the tears end
(It'll never end)

Everything falls down the drain
My tears
My sadness
My hope

Everything is gone in an instant,
with a splash of water
behind shower curtains.

i forgot that people care
date written: 4/10

i thought i had to prove myself to them
they never made mistakes
at least not that i noticed
and i felt like they were judging me the whole time

but sometimes, you feel free
maybe the person is just kind
or they make the same mistakes as well
people who had gone through to something similar you had

they don't care about my faults
(but they gossip about others)
so they could secretly hate me

it'd be easy

maybe that's why they left me

maybe they're tired of me
maybe they're lying to me
maybe they're coming back to me

or maybe we're equals
that's what it seemed like
they treated me like another person
they wanted me to talk
they wanted me to make discussion
they wanted me
(at least, i think)

they treat me like i'm one of them
and i guess i am
it's strange
how i'd almost forgotten
what it felt like to be treated like that

(i just hope it wasn't all a lie)

The Lies Have Become a Forest
Dates Written: 4/10 & 4/30

You know, there's so much that has happened
I should probably write it all down
Before it's all lost
(It probably already is)

I won't remember every moment
And that's okay
I just wish I'd tried a little harder
That I'd paid attention a little better
That I had actually been there
Speaking
Acting
Being...
...me...
Rather than all the time I wasted
And all those moments I wasn't really me
(But those moments have faded and
I can't tell which ones are real...

...and which are lies)

I've lied to myself so many times I can't tell the difference anymore
I don't know what is true and what isn't
Sometimes, I hate my appearance and want to rip it to shreds
And sometimes I can even think I'm pretty
Sometimes, I hate something about myself,
And someone compliments it
And then I don't know if I've been wrong
Or if they're only saying it because they pity me
Or want to be polite

What is real?
The lies have become a forest
And I never learned how to tell the difference
Between one plant and another
I’m going to poison myself
Choking on my own thoughts

Melting Ice Cream on the Sidewalk
Date Written: 4/30

Melting ice cream on the sidewalk.
At least you won’t know if it’s bland.
Maybe someone will tell you it is. Like

running out of time without a clock,
you might lose what you had planned.
Melting ice cream on the sidewalk

is not something you want to do everyday on the dot.
It doesn’t sound tasty, though it might sound grand.
Maybe someone will tell you it is. Like

fancy hotels or big stores or high-earning stocks.
Although, you don’t need much land when
melting ice cream on the sidewalk.

Even the mightiest rock
can be turned into sand.
Maybe someone will tell you what it’s like
melting ice cream on the sidewalk.

you can't see me crying behind the screen
dates written: april

you can’t see me crying behind the screen.
there are words i wrote when there were tears in my eyes
that you will never know,
but I know it's my fault.

and i've given as much as i can.
it seems like everything can disappear in an instant.
it’s unfair,
but sometimes you get nothing.

and sometimes when you look at yourself in the mirror,
you see all the little mistakes in yourself,
and you want to tear it all out of the image,
ripping away everything about yourself that scares you.
(you'll rip yourself apart)
i’m full of shards of my reflection,
every part of myself that i severed away.
i don’t know what hurt worse;
the fact that i've lied to myself so many times I can't tell the difference anymore,
or that everything is different.
does it matter?
they're a swirl of paints mixed together,
a dark gooey mixture that i will never sort apart.

sometimes i want it to stop,
but i just keep repeating the same mistakes over and over
and I’m still not the daughter you wanted me to be.
(i just hope it wasn't all a lie)

to you, i’m words behind a screen.
my tears fall with the shower water cascading on my head
thumping loudly on my brain
telling me i am nothing
but
it doesn’t matter.
you can’t see my crying behind the screen.