Young Writers Society

evanescence xii

"spring is a
rebirth," they say.
spring is like death.

you can feel it first in the fall-
that feeling of life.
while the leaves are falling and
plants are dying,
leaving their crumpled corpses
in your path, your head clears
along with the bare branches.
everyone is dying, collapsing
into their smaller selves,
sealing themselves inside-
I can't believe they don't
suffocate.

alone in the crisp, frigid mornings,
your breath crystallizes, your
wits sharpen, your mind opens
like the open air above and around you.
there's the stillness, the silence, then
you,
filling it all with your life and color
as the snow filters down
through the trees
like your thoughts.
it's clear,
it's bright,
and this is living.

then the white days begin to
slip away from you;
the plants are popping up,
stuffing the landscape full of themselves.
a frantic air takes over, and suddenly
people are in love,
blossoms are blooming,
everyone's awoken and you-
you-
stuck in the midst,
lost and confused in all the
noise and the rush,
clarity gone.

the fact that there are people about
makes you lonelier than you had been
and there are so many things
just there, crowding in close,
pressing in around you.
it's dizzying, suffocating
like the people stuffed in their
too-hot houses in
the winter.

the winter makes you come alive.
spring crushes the spark that was there.

evanescence xiii

the glowing streetlights beside you
touch the surface of the river
as you touch the river,
just a finger;
the echoes of that touch
linger long after you're gone.

evanescence xiv

some would say that
there's an end to fear and loss;
no more running, hiding,
always turning around and
seeing nothing.

but i know that for fear to set in,
something else had to end;
a golden glimmer,
a sliver of hope,
of happiness, brightness,
love.

it was the first thing to end
after we did.

evanescence xv

the grandeur of mountains,
gleaming silver lakes,
snow barely dusting the
dark green pine forests

red rock canyons and
wind swept, sun bleached deserts,
falcons soaring across
the clearest sky

none of it compared to your beauty.

but the glaciers are melting,
creatures going extinct;
they're clear cutting forests
and building highways, houses

they're beautiful, but
they can't last forever

and neither could you.

In evanescence xv, this last one, I really like how you handle the turn. You work towards this climax of "these are beautiful things and so are you" but then you work right back down again and start listing all of these destructive behaviors, that we think might just be correlating to a new type of beauty, then you take that rug and rip it out from under us. I like that a lot.

It's like I was expecting the unexpected, so I ended up not expecting what should have been obvious.

evanescence xvi

the world is spinning slowly
it's a wonder I don't fall off.

there are pale ribbons still
trying me here,
the names of those who still
care are etched into my skin,
lest I forget.

they trusted me with scissors
because they never thought
I'd use them.
they were right,
but I wanted to.
there are just too many people
tied only to me
for me to be selfish.

my soul longs to fly
so I colored my shoes leaden
to make me remember,
to keep me here,
grounded.

evanescence xvii

people say that the future
is only what you make of it,
but they neglect to give us the necessary tools.
as we grow upwards,
they teach us to look upwards too-
towards glowing city lights, big dreams, shining futures-
but everything we make we shape
with our bare, sun stained hands;
it comes out rough and unrefined.

they shake the stars, they eclipse the sun
at the touch of a button,
the click of a key,
they orchestrate the universe
as if it's one entrancing dance they intend to command.
they tell us it's our destiny
too.

but i,
i could spend eternity
folding a single
origami rose
(to place on your grave)
with soot soaked fingers.

evanescence xviii

sitting in the warm café
on a drizzling, rainy day
I see other people's lives
loving husbands, loving wives.
I'm not the center of things
like Saturn and all its rings-
I'm like a star, burning bright
but not alone in the night.
out of millions I'm just one
I look for friends but find none.
if we were all born the same
then we have ourselves to blame
for separating, splitting
for us, it's strangely fitting.
so we each live on our own
reap only what we have sown.
you have your drink, I have mine
separate but as one we dine.
I've not met you, but I've found
that we are together bound
by humanity, that spark
that draws us near in the dark.

Love your poems falco

I especially relate to iv, and ix is just wonderful. But they're all really great! you nailed a sort of constancy of tone across poems! A good start to developing any collection. Awesome job!

evanescence xix

I didn't cry in the classroom;
holding it in because
there were too many people to see,
they were already staring,
I had work to do,
tests to take,
I shouldn't draw attention
to myself,
not this way.
I refused to show weakness.

I didn't cry in the car;
it's dangerous while driving
for anything to
obscure your sight
(like tears)
and besides,
I don't cry quietly.
I would shake and veer the car
off the road-
then nothing would matter.

I didn't cry when my family came;
they don't need to know
they have other worries and
I don't need the questioning
I know will come.
it makes me sad every time
they say,
"where did that happy little girl
go?"
because I don't know,
but she's been gone a long time.

I cried when you hugged me
for the first and last time.
it wasn't because of you,
but somehow it was
and I let it all out.
you weren't surprised.
I wonder how long you knew.
you held me anyway.

evanescence xx

swing me low
in moonlit arms,
carry me
on clouds.
winds of change
wash over me,
I'll be safe
and sound.

I've left the
Earth below me,
now let me
forget it too.

evanescence xxi

I am an oyster,
and you may think me plain
but there's something
on the inside that's
worth more than
all of me.

I am an oyster,
oblivious to the pain
as I'm poked and shoved
because they all
want the pearl inside
as much as me.

I am an oyster,
though you have much to gain
I know I'll lose it all
if you take that
pearl of hope from
inside of me.

I am an oyster,
I can barely self-sustain
but it's worth it, in the end
because of my beautiful work
when they break inside, it'll be the
end of me.

I am an oyster,
and you may think me plain
but deep down I know I have beauty
take what you will, you
can't hurt me now, it will always be
a part of me.

evanescence xxii

i'm calling out,
reaching out in the darkness
but the shadows of my friends
pull hoods down and hats up-
i waste my precious breath.

i can feel my ribs crack with
the pressure of suffocation,
and i lie down as the stars
wink out one by one
subtracting all familiarity
from my life
in a single, fluid movement.

i keep thinking I'll wake up
in a room with a
lazy ceiling fan and an open window
where air flows
as freely as my soul-
let my lungs soar in this
pale autumn atmosphere.

but i hear my own whispered inquiries,
not a whisper of wind,
and the only things pale are
the fearful whites of my eyes and
my crushed herbal heart.

evanescence xxiii

the most beautiful things
are dead.

a barren, windswept plain
Earth long dried and
cracked with heat.
the rain drops on it once in a
blue moon,
staining the dust like
fast-drying blood.
plants creep up
only to shrivel under the
wrathful sun.

a clear, flowing river
devoid of plants
and fish
and things-
that's how you can tell,
it's probably chock full
of chemicals,
the kind we humans like to
dump into nature.

a bare, naked tree
lost its leaves, lost its life
ages old, it's been through
fires, floods, and lightning
only to stop in its path.
a monument,
a testament to all who see-
of what, we can't be sure-
in a few hundred years
it'll fossilise to attain
a different kind of beauty.

your face was always
haunted in the daylight,
filled with pain and
long, dark nights.
your eyes were void,
a soulless pit and I often
wondered if you were there.
I look at you now:
your hair never looked so neat,
you never dressed so nicely,
your hands were never so soft-
you were never this peaceful
when you were alive.

evanescence xxiv

i've spent my life waiting
to journey to a fantasy land,
to be swept up in the arms
of some handsome stranger

i still haven't gotten over the realization
that it'll only ever be me.