Young Writers Society

15th Poem
The Saltiest Poem

You're never going to care.
Not as long as you can.
You're never going to give in,
even when I have the upper hand.

I keep trying to kill you,
but you always survive.
And I keep saying I'm fine,
but am I really fine?

And I'm lost for words,
because you drained me out.
I struggle to not scream,
but you rarely shout.

I try to confront the problem,
but you're just washed of shame.
Even when witnesses stand against you,
you'll never take the blame.

And I'm not going to try to make it better.
Because I'm done. I'm really, really done
I'm not jumping back into your child's play.
Because sweetheart, I've grown up.

16th Poem
Immortal

I want to be immortal
To be without pain
I want to be like a flower
With nothing to lose or gain

17th Poem
State of Dreaming

I feel like I'm in a state of dreaming;
deep in thought and my own meaning.
I've never felt so quite pleased;
never anxious; calm and eased.
Trapped in a precious night,
a simple paradise; ever so bright.
The sky engulfs my once saddened eyes.
It's covered in lights from stars and fireflies.
All I can hear is the crickets and wind,
I've never lived a dream of this kind.
I don't want to leave this state of dreaming;
not when the sky is ever so gleaming.

18th Poem
I believe

Millions of girls hope from their reveries.
A place left unscarred by hurtful memories;
and I can't say the same about me.
But I believe, I believe,
in possibility.
And I believe, I believe,
someone's there for me.
And though my wounds are raw,
I believe, I believe.

I've found what I've been searching for,
in myself; behind a locked hidden door.
My cuts were the only thing strong enough.
But I believe, I believe,
in destiny.
And I believe, I believe,
that only I can fix me.
And I never knew that I could ever be happy,
I believe, I believe;

in happiness only be created
by me

19th Poem
Child Lost in the Dark

I keep a notebook beside my bed
at night, so I can write down
my every broken thought, as if
picking up shards of glass
from a shattered dream.

The bitter taste on my lips
haunts me, for every word
I write is mocked by me;
by the voices in my head—
God! I swear I'm not insane.

I'm in pain. It's late now.
I can hear my parents voices;
the hushed arguing. I can hear
the cicadas screaming, I wonder
is it for joy at the heat?

I write in the dark of the night,
using nothing but a simple lantern.
I hid it there for on stormy nights,
when the lights go out and I'm left alone.
I'm not little, but I'm still afraid.

I'm afraid of monsters like a young child,
except the monsters that haunt me are a
spawn of depression and anxiety.
They hid in the darkness, in the empty rooms.
They are there most when I'm alone.

I'm often lonely even surrounded by people.
The comfort once found in my writing is lost
and replaced with a bitterness. Like an
old friend that has changed and now
spits your name in disgust.

My sister enjoys tormenting me.
She knows my weaknesses and fears;
all my insecurities, she teases me
hitting the target perfectly.
I cry too easily...

It's become quite the pain to be known,
as the girl who tears up when people
make a joke about a harmless thing.
I used to be so strong, but now I am
a little child lost in the dark again.

I'm sorry for the inconsistency.
One poem I'm hurt,
the next I'm "finally happy"
It's a lie I tell myself to help me
sleep on nights like these.

I suppose I'll have to end this poem soon.
It's getting rather long...
but then again I suppose I could chop it
to pieces, until I feel like it's not as
disgraceful to poetry as it was before.

This is I, this is me, the child lost in the dark,
frightened by things of her own overthinking
imagination. Now that I've let my words out,
I can finally lay my head down to sleep,
and pray the monsters my soul to spare.

Hey, Alice, so I am here to comment on your poem as you asked me to. So I will start off with a few suggestions of how to reword things, just for clarity.

So the first two lines in the first stanza, you use the word 'shatter' twice. I feel like it would be better if you just used it once. Maybe change shattered glass to shards of a shattered dream, but it's your choice.

Also, when you mention that you hid the lamp, you say "There" but I was confused as to where there meant, so maybe specify a bit.

One more tiny nitpick, is the last line of the poem. I think it would be better to reword it as "and pray the monsters spare my soul."

Okay, onto the message of the poem. One thing I really like about your poem is its raw emotion and honesty. I believe that is the poem's greatest strength. And I think if you work with this poem even more, you can really magnify that strength. You have some nice concepts and images in this poem I would love to see you explore and expand on you have this symbolic use od darkness, and I think it would help make that resonate if you convey the signifcance of the monsters image. I think if you could use more imagery in this poem tit would be even stronger and make the poem more cohesive. Also I think you should possibly consider working on some transtions between some of your stanzas and ideas because sometimes your ideas change quickly, which is not a bad thing. You just need to ease the reader into it with a transition, some warning that you're switching gears. II hipe you don't think I am criticizing too much. Because I think this is a good poem and has a lots of potential, so I hope you see what you can do with it, and I can't wait to see what else you write.

Keep writing,
~bluewaterlily

20th Poem
Whispers

There are fragile whispers in the soft wind,
with delicate golden petals within.
Hushed words of promise linger on my lips.
Promise me back, be as soft and kind as
a gentle breeze, or a silky dove's wing.

21st Poem
Golden Rope

She could see the storm from a distance;
its swirling clouds took over the bright blue sky.
The vicious winds stole the air from her lungs,
they tugged at her hair and wrapped it
around her neck like a golden rope.
She struggled to escape, her nails ripping at her neck,
but the storm was too strong.

From a distance she could see hope,
but it moved too quick for her to catch up.
She could see the sun's fading embers as
the storm engulfed it all.

22nd Poem
Tomorrow

Tomorrow is the day I've most dreaded.
Tomorrow is a brutal battlefield.
My soldiers are anxious to enter it,
anxious to experience it.
There is nothing left to do but wait,
wait for the light of dawn,
wait for the call of the alarm,
and wait for the heavy feeling in my gut.
But tomorrow must come like any other day,
so I suppose I'll just have to wait and see,
what tomorrow will bring...

23rd Poem
Lost

I'm writing poetry from a bathtub;
the one place I can be alone.
It never works out, does it?

My mind is screaming but
my lips are shut.
We used to be so happy but
now we're fighting a battle that's already lost.

I'm trying not to think about it,
about the things you said.
It's killing me slowly...

I'm not to keen on forgiveness,
I've never been.
I don’t know what to believe anymore.
We used to be so happy...

24th Poem
I'm alone again

lost again
I'm alone again

I should have known better.
no one has ever stayed so,
why would you be different?

I'm trying not to think about you,
and the things you've admitted.
I feel like I'm drowning...

your voice sounds different
from under the water.
your face has become one I do not know.

everything is happening so slow and yet so fast.
I do not know what to believe anymore.
we used to be so happy...

but now were not
and now I'm alone again

25th Poem
To Collapse

I'm trying to forget
but last night's events
echo in my ears like
the sound of a crystal blue sky
collapsing into little fragments

Did it feel nice to grab one of those sharp memories and stab me in the back?
Did it feel nice to walk away knowing the wreckage you were leaving behind?

It hurts to breathe now
It hurts to move
every limb on my body is heavy
It hurts to exist now
my heart, no matter how cliche it sounds, is broken

My mind is tired but even my dreams are stained red
and I know I'm not the only one to feel the a wound drawn by you

I think the worst part is that
I still lie awake at night wondering
if you threw yourself in front of that train?
No matter how much I hate you for hurting me
I'll always care

26th Poem
Sounds of The Night

Outside I can hear the cicadas screaming.
Their piercing call reaches through the
cracks of my poorly sealed window
and into my ears.

I've been trying to sleep but my mind is awake.
I'm so tired but all I can do is lie here and listen.

listen to the cicadas,
listen to my breaths,
listen to my heartbeat,
listen to the wind,
listen to the tapping tree branch,
listen to the buzzing mosquito,
listen to the sounds of the night,

the sounds that remind me that
I'm alive

27th Poem
Past the Point of Drowning

I lie here floating in the serene
deep ocean I've cried
as my body lowers to the soft ground
I close my eyes and breathe in slowly
the cool water swirls between my lips
and into my lungs but my lungs aren't
big enough to carry this ocean of tears
and I'm not strong enough to keep all
that water inside.
What will people say when they see
such an ocean? What will people think?
I could lie and say I don't care
but— that would be a lie...
I'll have to leave my tranquility soon
and return to reality
Will people notice I left?
Perhaps yes, perhaps not.

28th Poem
Peppermint Kisses

All I remember from late december
is the sudden bright white snow,
the heat of the fire and the fruity laughs.

I remember the cold air and the feeling
of frost nipping at my nose and cheeks.
I remember the snow kissed trees.

Do you remember the way the snow
caught in my hair? Or the way I
blushed when you looked at me?

Do you remember december like me?
The heat, the cold, the fire, the snow.
The joyful laughs and peppermint kisses?