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Young Writers Society


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Sat Apr 23, 2022 7:47 pm
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creaturefeature says...



12/30

how does that one go again?
the car and the grave in the dirt
and the terrible things you do,
and ask yourself - whose body is it now?
which furious pair of stars, reaching
and smashing into the sun,
getting into the wrong hearts?
or maybe the cars are crashing on
your behalf. you're not sure when
you told them. by now, you've confessed
your crimes and passions to about two-fifths
of this universe. and the universe is everywhere.
on the road where we reversed into a phone booth,
on the windows where you can see
your soul and its intentions, in the few
places where the world has already ended.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
  





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Sat Apr 23, 2022 8:03 pm
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creaturefeature says...



13/30

i'll tell you what it feels like
to be alive: it feels like nothing.
say we are vessels.
say we are just saltwater.

the heart cannot make up
for this in kindness fast enough.
i don't think i want to know what
happens next, when i wade through
the entirety of the ocean just for you.

my body says she is considering
retirement.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
  





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Sat Apr 23, 2022 9:39 pm
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alliyah says...



Spoiler! :
HELLO HELLO!
I've been meaning to comment on these all month because many of these are really good and you have a lot of lines in here that are just absolute gems and show off your poetic strengths of this interlinking tight imagery and compelling questions/thoughts.

Just some specific comments:
it's easy to be hollow.
you see this body? yes, it is
a skeleton wrapped in the skin

the image juxtaposed to the very casual commentary is so striking and uncomfortable - love it!

I wasn't quite sure how to interpret poem 3 but I kind of took it as a petition of the speaker to the self to delve into what they were doing and also find more self-kindness/graciousness. This phrase, "a perpetuity
of grief upon this soul." is really ooof in particular.

4, 5, 6 all have this sense of recounting life's stories almost like a memoir - and come across as very authentic to me.

the problem is that someone trusted me once.

This line is a really compelling opener, expressing all this self-doubt that sets up the poem really nicely.

and poem 11 is probably my favorite - the idea seems to be akin to two people that are put into each other's lives but the timing / situation isn't perfect so even though there's a sense of destiny and connection they don't collide or connect in whatever way the speaker desires. I think it's a very poetic idea that a lot of people can relate to without maybe even really knowing how to describe it - but the sense of wishing two parallel journeys could have crossed is a really poetic description.

A week left of NaPo to go! <3 Hope to read more moth-poetry; thanks for sharing all this, I've enjoyed following your thread this month.
you should know i am a time traveler &
there is no season as achingly temporary as now
but i have promised to return
  





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Fri Apr 29, 2022 1:12 am
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creaturefeature says...



14/30

how well do you know this part?
tropical showers, equatorial sun, caged-in
humidity, cowering under the skyscrapers. the makeup
of our skin, mostly patchwork, mostly dark eyebags,
stand out on the map.

so of course i am here,
doesn't it make sense? first-generation of
playing house in someone else's summer. let's talk
about home, but maybe let's not. let's go home.

let's pretend you're not magnetic,
you're not the night coming for the pale rays
slipping through the branches. you're just a slow
coastal breeze (just like back home)
pretending you want the skyscrapers
(like back home), heavily making its way
to the shore (back home)
and definitely not thinking of
(home.)
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
  





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218 Reviews

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Points: 85
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Sat Apr 30, 2022 4:49 pm
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creaturefeature says...



15/30

so the law of nature dictates that
if i pull up all the roots before i stagger home
clutching scrawled notes to my chest, i could attract
the yawning waves to come and find me, shower me
in tidal blossoms. lily-white spray drenching
my hair and marking me with sea salt. it sounds
like a wonderful idea, this uprooting, this burning of all the
bridges before the music plugs in and all we have left
are shipwrecks, coffins for bodies with twisted mouths;
so this is the part where i drop everything i'm holding together
to fill the empty spaces with preserved water, which is
to say like freshwater but seasoned with enough spice,
enough of that trader's gold. if i wrote a will
maybe i could tell someone about how the weight
of the bounty anchored me to the bottom of the sea,
or promise my treasures to my lover.

(i wanted to call this loneliness a harbour,
until i realized we had made our home there.)
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
  








"You may deem me romantic, my dear sister, but I bitterly feel the want of a friend."
— Mary Shelley, Frankenstein