Young Writers Society

All right, I've been majorly depressed the last couple of days. I keep having this recurring dream where my Wolfe is standing at shcool, all “ha! You believed I was dead!” and I’m HAPPY!Because she’s ALIVE! And then I wake up, and I’m sad…so here’s a series of poems that get progressively sadder, longer, and angrier. And sorry I haven't been on lately, been working devilish shifts at the pool. Alst Saturday I worked from 9:30 in the am to 10:30 in the p.

Valentine

Happy Valentines Day!
I hope you can sense the sarcasm,
Because if that first line,
Was a REAL Philly Cheesesteak,
The sarcasm would be thicker,
Than the grease.

Because I’m not very happy.
Because I can’t get you off my mind.
Because sometimes,
Sometimes I really hate you.
Sometimes that raw, angry loathing,
Is so powerful,
That I want to throw up,
To get that writhing thing,
Out of what’s left of my heart.

And then I hate myself.
Because even though you left me,
I was the one,
Who couldn’t keep you.
I was the inadequate reason,
To keep you alive,
In anything but my dreams.



Polluted

I don’t like the moon tonight.
I can’t see it through my blinds,
Through the rain thick clouds,
But I know it’s there,
Gleaming in all its pasty malevolence.

Tarnished dream bringer,
Keep your dreams to yourself,
I’ve seen enough of her face,
I don’t want to hold her again,
On to wake up and re-learn she’s…


So stop weaving your threads,
Dream Weaver.
Cut loose your tapestry,
From my poisoned desires,
It hurts all too much.

It haunts my day,
Leaping forth from midnight yearnings,
To walk my mourning halls,
And catch the blood that drips,
From my broken fists,
The incisions in my neck,
From trying to know how you felt,
With that cord about your throat.

Only chains pierce deeper,
Than threaded rope,
And I only have so many,
High necked shirts.

So please,
Leave me ALONE!

I want to close my eyes without,
Her face engraved on my eyelids.
I want to uncry a thousand false dawn tears,
Of a thousand false life dreams,
And just sleep it all away.

Don’t force me to watch another sunrise,
Creep across my ceiling,
Through drops of inner ocean spray.
Forbid these hopeless hopes, dreams,
Fabricated school day delusions,
To haunt me anymore.

Exorcize my reveries of this phantom,
And let my sleep through,
The red sunrise of pollution.



Rot And Snot

I’m rotting from the inside out,
Some mold, some fungus,
Is eating me alive.
What else could cause this burning?

Surely I can’t be that angry.
I can’t be so angry that I sit,
And wretch for hours on end,
Trying to expel this creature,
From my gut.

Then I just cry my gory tears,
Until I’m as empty as a church,
During Monday’s predawn,
And then I don’t know what to do.
Because all I feel is pain,
And I cried out the reason long ago,
Lost somewhere in a snot covered tissue.

So I run.
I look down that highway,
Of people going nowhere,
With half a drop of sanity,
Half a breath of air,
And half an idea where I’m going.

But I’m going.
I’m going wherever you are,
So I can run into your arms,
And slap you as hard as I can,
So that I’ll finally know,
You’ve cried as much as I have.

Then I’ll collapse,
Clutching my sides as I scream,
From the rot that’s taken me over.
And don’t try to me give anti-biotic’s for this.
I don’t need pills, powders, penicillin’s,
I need a dose of anti-memory,
A dose of peace to rip you from my mind,
Throw you on the ground,
Kick you in the stomach,
Spit in your face,
Then run away laughing,
Flipping you the bird,
And blowing a raspberry.

Because I want to get on with my life!
I want to get on with me.
I need to forget your name,
Your life, your face,
Cough you out, throw you up,
Dig my nails into my brain and claw you away,
Blow you into one last tissue,
Wrap you up in a blanket of snot,
And let you rot in a trashcan.

But hey,
At least you won’t be alone,
There are already a lot,
Of used tissues in there.



Comprehension Attempts

The silken water closes,
Over my head and,
My lungs are already burning.
The cement weights pull,
Me down and,
Only my vision can swim.

My body begs me,
To breath but,
I’ll die if I try.
So I’ll just open my mouth,
And silently scream,
To the heaven I don’t believe in.

Is this how you felt,
When you tied that cord,
Round your neck,
And sat down?

Only I don’t want,
To leave this world behind,
So I release the weight.
Then I gasp, and grasp,
An electric pink floating duck,
And turn the water brackish around my eyes.

How could you do it?
You could have stood up,
At any time.
You were only kneeling.

I’ve been trying to see,
How you could,
Choose to go.
How you could simply,
Place your self in darkness,
And sit away your last breath.

My neck is sore,
From trying to understand,
How you could be that weak.
The chain is pulling tight,
Cutting into the cloth,
Protecting my skin.

I’ve already learned,
How to hang without,
Being cut,
Without bleeding.

My vision is going dark,
And my chest is pulling tight,
Trying to steal some air.
So I stand up before I sleep,
Like every other time.
I always have the strength.

You knew, I know you knew!
What it was,
You were going to do.
So why couldn’t you take the time,
To leave behind,
A simple note?

Then I wouldn’t have to try,
To understand.

I guess I wasn’t even enough,
For that.
I wasn’t worth it to you.
So now I have a plastic bag,
Cotton cord, bar across my door.
I have it all.

One wrong move,
And I really will comprehend,
How you felt as you died.

i don't know where to start...
...
...
...
...
perhaps i'll end it here.

I don't even know you I know the story of your sadness but through these poems I could read your despair and it began to hurt me, I can't comment on these poems because I can feel the pain the confusion in you, they're so well written with ALOT of power. My heart is with you I couldn't bare ot lose my best mate.
wu
( hope that all made sense)

Thanks you two, but please, I know these need some work. I found a few places myself and went in an edited. I just know there are things I'm missing though. These are so lose to my eart that I can't read them objectively. But still, thanks. Love to the whole site and all that rot.

...

*snuggle*...

gurl you need a hug! I'm reading this and I'm totally blown away by ur incredible imagery, passion, emotion, words and hell you rock. You're my hero, its it funny that we write really well when we're depressed?(what does that say about ur writing stategy?) Honestly though, this is the sort of stuff that at one time or another everyone feels like but you...you're just brave enough to write it down and say it without holding back. The raw emotion just jumps off the screen! I can't get over it! Even though you feel/felt like this (hence the initial hug) this is an excellent piece of writing. I especially like the "Polluted" piece, i had to stop and shake my head for a second there. But really, you have a wicked awesome talent and you should continue writing! It's the best (well i think it is) way to cope with this unpredictably creul world. Ok I've prased you enough now! lol

All I can say is...thank you. Thank you for sharing, for feeling, for writing. That's all just brought me back down to earth. Beautiful and horrible and painful just to read them - just to taste the very tip of the iceberg. I guess I can also say how deeply sorry I am. But that's not going to help anything. As far as poetry goes, there's some amazing imagery (beyond imagery, really) and the honesty is so brutal it's draining to read. If you're looking for proper critiques, I doubt you'll get many. Can't touch this stuff.

*snuggles back the Tessitore* Thanks everyone, I guess I did better on these than I thought…like I said, just too close to me to see correctly. *hugs back all the hugs* Funny story though, I popped on to see what had been said the other day while at school, and of course the school checks everything, so they read that. I got called out my class, they talked to me, called my parents, and I now have a weekly counseling session. Urgh. Thanks for the lovely reviews though.

Eep, darn school hey you never know may help you!

Wulie wrote:Eep, darn school hey you never know may help you!

*laughs hysterically* You've never been to that school. Or maybe they just didn't like me. One or the other, they generally don't help. All they want is to get you to get over it so they can knock you back into being what they want you to be and if that involved more psychiatric help or even medications, well, tough luck for you. They're real jerks.

eep, ok sorry very different schools! I hate that we all have to a certain type of person and if we don't fit that catogery then we're hated!

Tess, thanks, I was going to say the same thing. Even my parental hates the school counseler. And I have to talk to her. Once a week. Blast it all. Wrote a really bad poem about it. Not even going to bother putting it up here. Just getting my stuff to print off and suchness. I forgot to save the changes I made so this is easier.

By The Way, anyone think I should edit out the last few lines of COmprehension attemtps? Thinking of taking out

I guess I wasn’t even enough,
For that.
I wasn’t worth it to you.
So now I have a plastic bag,
Cotton cord, bar across my door.
I have it all.

One wrong move,
And I really will comprehend,
How you felt as you died.

And changing that understand to comprehend. I think those last few lines lose my imagery and just make it too...mass suicide-y. What does other peeps think?