Young Writers Society

evanescence xxv

if lying to yourself
ultimately hurts you,
why does lying to a friend
hurt you too?

everything I do
I do for you
I would lie for you,
die for you.
it's how I find myself
lying to you instead-
so I don't hurt you,
I hurt myself.

if you've ever watched Star Trek
you'd know;
the good of the many
(that'd be you)
over the good of the few,
or the one (that's me)

so I take bullet after bullet
but they're all made of words;
somehow those hurt more
than any physical pain.
I guess that's what
true friendship is,
at least for my part.

I hope you make
good use of my
sacrifice.

evanescence xxvi

I pull on a pair of lawnmowing shoes,
old converse,
I'm fairly sure they weren't
damp spring grass green
when I bought them.

I could stand to be a lawnmower,
I suppose,
tearing through the grass with that
fresh-cut scent always
trapped in your teeth.

my hands are worn
in all the right places,
raging red blisters have long since
faded to sun-hardened callouses.
the first time I mowed,
my father told me to wear gloves
but they were sticky
and bulky, inelegant
I held tight with my bare hands,
my skin a glove of its own.
the motorized frictions on my
clenched, naked palms-
that was what made it
real.

evanescence xxvii

my brain feels like peach fuzz
on a rainy day
squishing around in my
cradle of a cranium.
it makes everything hurt.

this everything includes my throat
which feels as if I've been eating
fire rather than
bowls of chicken noodle soup in bed.
it burns like I've been
saying all the foul things inside me
that I'd never utter aloud.

my hands are weak and limp
curled into half moons on my covers
unable to grip anything-
my mind is unable
to grip things, too, sometimes,
like reality.

my eyelids droop down like
some cartoon character
(I feel like that too-
everything bloated)
and I wish I could prop them open
with sugar charged soda
because I have work to do.
but I'd rather
drink warm milk and
watch myself wither.

if this is what
dying feels like, no wonder
everyone wants to drink
from the fountain of youth;
I would too.

evanescence xxviii

I've broken bowls, plates
dangerously balanced glass objects.
I've broken machines and
zippers and ceiling fans.
I've broken toys and tables
and books as well.
I've broken my life,
I feel sure I've broken others,
I even broke a friendship, once.

But I'd never broken a heart
until now.

evanescence xxix

scarred hearts,
scarred hands;
scarred maps,
scarred plans.

in a way,
I'm defined by others.
they leave marks on me,
inside and out,
and those marks mold me like
the blacksmith's hammer
falling on molten metal.

sometimes I wonder
what I would have become if
I hadn't let myself be
acted upon.
it should be my actions,
not theirs,
that make me who I am.

instead, they made those marks
and I look at them in shame
because I bear the
testament of others' strength;
not my own.

These are really good. I don't know if you have one more in you or not, but you win NaPo in my book! I really like 28 for its simplicity.

evanescence xxx

so it's come to this.
"here,
at the end of all things".

i lie,
uncurling from the defensive position
i've never truly grown out of,
spreading my arms wide
like i could hug the sky.

instead i reach out to take your hand
and we look at each other
rather than the dying sun
even as its final flames
paint our faces red
like the blood that runs
through each of us.

the night is falling.
no matter how many times
i was told to prepare,
i never could.

but it's all right now-
some things don't last-
as long as i
can stay here,
with you,
i can hold on to the dawning
of a new and brighter day.

you are my
anchor.

Another NaPo! That felt pretty good. Thank you so much to the people who read these and commented- @Audy, @alliyah, @Nikayla, @Aley, @fortis, and @niteowl! <33 I really appreciate it you guys.