Young Writers Society

Not my favourite poem, but that's more to do with my taste than your writing. This poem reads too much like a story - it's a very conversational poem.

There's nothing wrong with that, though - once again, it's just my personal preference. You might want to thing about either capitalising the first letter of each line, or beginning them all in lowercase.

Just my two cents - you probably shouldn't listen to me though. I'm not a great writer.

Hm...I just read this a few minutes ago and I enjoyed it. It reminded me of a song. I started to pick up my guitar and play to it,lol.
Anyway, I think your writing style is changing, but in a good way. The last three of four poems I've read from you have been fantastic. Keep up the good work...]
Oh, and it was for someone in particular....grr...you little...

I would have liked this a lot better if I was more open to the gay/lesbien thing. As it was, it sort of grossed me out. But I'll crit it like it wasn't about a guy and see how I like it.


Somewhere deep-down inside you
there is a core of jaded beauty that shimmers
and refracts the harsh light of cruel words
and gleams protectorate over your eyes.

*This is really pretty. It gives me a nice image, and I liked this part. It was like..wow*

It makes me want to cut you open and have a look inside
get past calvin klein and rubber sneakers and smell
the real you or stay up all night and read your clandestine
journal entries and savor the little giblets of turn-of-phrase
and sardonic humor.

*aww...again I really liked this. It was pretty, and it was like...wow, he wants to cut someone open...I dunno I just liked it.*

I’ve wondered oft-times in my bedroom what it would be like
to wrap my arms around your shoulders and slowly
trail down your stomach and let my tongue lick salty skin
and feel your levi’s slipping down your legs and form
small clusters of cloth material where they land.

*I'm not so into the oft-times. Often would suit if just as well. It's very personal, I can tell*

Then I remember to wake up and cringe
at the aftertaste of black coffee and the rote system
of coursework and sidejobs and remember that
I’ve felt the bend and I’ve made the grind
and my fifteen years of existence have felt life’s
bitterest kiss, but in the mornings, right before
I leave to go to class, I see your e-mails and
they make me smile or
they at least make me think I'm safe.

*This part was really long compared to the other stanzas, but I really like the last part, the last four lines. especially the very last one.*

overall, it was very good, though it may have been a little much for me.