Young Writers Society

Blame @Lumi

ily guys <3

the bruises you left on me
faded within a week after you let go
the marks a temporary testament
to people trying to destroy each other
by a hand around their throat

i had thought the bruises
would stamp out the parts of you
we'd burned into each other over time
but i have never understood friendship
not enough to make a prediction

your fingerprints around my wrist
holding me back from traffic
glowed every time i thought about it
again, not wanting to let you down
even though you had stopped reaching out
for now

i didn't want you to reach to emptiness
should you ever dare
touch me again

— April 1, 2014

the holy grail is scrawled
on the inside of your forearm
just far enough in nobody can see
unless you tip the hand to your heart
by lifting your sleeve

written in a moment of panic
when you were trying to find
something to hold onto;
for your hands to grasp in darkness
and keep the walls from closing in

the only thing that made sense
was something impossible to reach

— April 2, 2014

Open wounds and open heart
Let you pull me far apart
Gentle touch and gentle sting
I mistake as my everything

— April 3, 2014

speak softly but loud enough
for me to hear you over
the voices in my own head;
caught up in a world
of my own memories
that shatter upon loud noises
and make me realize how cold
the wind blows

speak loudly but soft enough
to act as a weighted blanket
in the night, comforting and
most of all distracting
from the other voices trying
to trap me within their walls

speak.
please.
that is all
i will ever ask

— April 4, 2014

The Will of the Empress

I have my mother's blood which means
my history is one of witches and leaders
who don't dare compromise themselves
in the name of what you want

Challenge me and I will show you
how fragile your power truly was
you hold it all in name but I,
my dear husband, hold it in practice;
you would be nothing without
my support, your empress,
who knows more about the palace
than you ever will.

So challenge my claim to fight
for what I desire above all else;
I dare you.

silence is the killer that
allows hate to fester
unbridled
unchallenged
swept under the rug of
"it's just one" and
"why are you
so sensitive.
it's just one person's opinion"

i am sensitive because
for you it is one
for me it is one
hundred, built up over days
and weeks
and years
where i was told to stay silent
in the name
of not rocking the boat

my skin is tough
from swallowing opinions
and nursing wounds
gained from the few times
i dared to stand up
for how i felt

you lack that training
to stand in the face
of people telling you
you're wrong.

spew your hate
i will challenge you
and i will not be hurt

— April 5, 2014

they say once you're a dancer
a part of you always remains that way
as you glide through life on
pointed feet and rhythm
you learned to follow
effortlessly

i believe the same is true
for poets
their words recoil back
to the place of metaphor and
linguistic tricks
meant to hide while revealing
the deepest secrets of the heart

art is the strongest drug;
once it enters your mind
no other form of self expression
is ever enough
for you to feel heard

— April 6, 2014

Some mornings I stay in bed
for three hours at a time
to try and wait out the sounds of life
directly under my floorboards
loud enough for me to hear
mistakes, regret and most of all
anger at yourself
that I know you'll take out
on me next time I mess up
just like the dog just did
by following his instincts

sometimes at night i stay downstairs
for three hours after my eyes
have tried to close against exhaustion
simply because it's more time alone
in a soundless space
i can dream without fear

My sleep schedule is Hell
because dreams are nightmares
i never wake from

— April 7, 2014

where is silence

i find it funny how
bullying is always a boy
picking on another much
smaller than him,
with knocked down papers
and leaving bruised shoulders

even when it's girl
on girl the message remains:
"don't slam people against
lockers and knock over
what they're carrying.
it's not nice"

the next most common
is the words yelled across
hallways that keep you up
past your bedtime
that go away when you talk
to somebody you trust

i always watch and wonder
where is the silence
that cuts deeper than
a freshly sharpened sword
because your eyes never dull
and stay sharp with hate and
even worse
contempt

where is the silence
that hurts more
than words ever could

my poems drift back to you eventually;
nothing else is quite big enough
to capture everything i want to tell you

a friend said poetry is the end
to the mean, when you try
and use language to transcend itself;
in it you find truth

i feel my truth is too simple when
boiled down to three words;
subject, object, and transitive
verb skipping between i and you
that doesn't exist unless
there is an actor and
an acted upon

roles become part of their actors
after enough time spent rehearsing,
going through motions until they
like the great Hamlet
become their mask
and even a game of pretend
becomes a case of deja vu
where your heart is on stage
night after night as you speak
of hope and loss and love;
trite, practiced words but most of all
real to the people involved

but acting is intransitive
and only requires one person
despite most acting being done
in front of an audience
it isn't required

the best performances
are transitive, moving the roles
from playing to feeling;
two actors are involved, acting upon
each other, and their movements
become transitive verbs:
hoping, losing and loving.

what i'm trying to say is
i love you

— April 8, 2014

My biggest fear is you will spend time with me
for an extended period of time, both of us
together with nothing but daily responsibilities
for company in times we're not
putting effort into actively socializing

and you will spend this time,
only to slowly grow unhappy
with how I sometimes can't stand music
or even speech, when stressed
and how periodically i forget
all the things i need to do
and escape too far into my mind

my biggest fear is one day
you will look at me
and say, "your mother
was right; you really are
the problem."

— April 9, 2014

you know that i've been following and reading and studying and dissecting every bit of this since day one, but you need to know that i have read nothing of yours that has made me ache quite like april 9th. top ten, period.

i second lumabear. i am achey all over the place (and i still strongly dislike and strongly desire to troll your mother)