Young Writers Society

Unpublished thoughts and unpublished feelings
Maybe they're little glimpses of my scheming
From unheard cries to a broth full of lies
Welcome to the first, the beginning, and the end of my demise.

Warning: Bunnies present munching on poetry stanzas. If you are allergic to cuteness, please take caution.
(Swearing will never be here, and everything will generally be family friendly. However, please check content warnings wherever present. Thank you.)

Comments welcome
Critiques welcome
Chickens welcome

Contents of Tables:

Key:
=favorites at the moment

1. The Difference Between a Hero and a Villain
2. It Never Occurred to Me
3. Dreams
4. Aurora Avenue
5. Feelings Mixed Up
6. Pool
7. Being Human
8. I'm Sorry
9. Perfect Glass Mirror
10. Untitled Document
11. Bunny Garden

The Difference Between a Hero and a Villain
Date Written: May 1st, 2024

I get why people fall into their own self-hatred.
It's because once they're there,
They think they deserve to stay.
Or I don't know; maybe I'm
the only one crazy enough to do it.
But I still understand why.

Because once you hate yourself so much that
When you make a mistake,
It feels like the end of the world.
Where that moment feels unbearable

People will tell you it's unhealthy for you
And that you should stop
But tell me something; why should I care?
(That was mean I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry)
If I hate myself so much
That it hurts to breathe
It hurts to move
It hurts to look at myself in the mirror and not cry at everything I promised I would never become,
Then do you think I care if it will only get worse?
(Maybe if it gets worse, then I'll finally try to change
Maybe I'll finally be the person I wanted to be
Even if I don't see it
And other people can enjoy the me I never had)

The only reason I'd stop
The only reason I want to stop
hating myself
Is because it hurts you.
And I know what it's like to have someone you love
hate themself.
I never want anyone to feel that way.

So if I can, I'll hide it.
I'll hide how much I can't stand my reflection,
And I'll smile at you in the mirror.
I'll hide how much it hurts when I make a mistake
And I'll lie and say I'm working on loving myself
(I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry)
I'll hide the ever present voice I use
To tell myself that I'm not good enough

If I shower you with compliments,
Do you think you'll forgive yourself for things you've done in the past?
I do.
I forgive you,
Let us forget, too.
Because it doesn't matter anymore.
Anything you did in the past is just that.
The past.
Please, forgive yourself
(Hypocrite hypocrite hypocrite hypocrite)
(I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry)

The difference between you and me
Is that you learn from what you did.
I've been repeating every wrong thing I've done
For the last nine years.
And I've never made a different choice.

The difference between you and me
Is the difference between a hero and a villain.
You stopped hurting me.
I never stopped hurting you.

It Never Occurred to Me
Date Written: May 6th, 2024

How come it never occurred to me
That there would be other people like me
That would hate being a girl as much as I did
(Except I wouldn't want to be anything else)
How come it never occurred to me
That other people would avoid school
The same way I did
(Though I used to love learning)
How come it never occurred to me
That there would be people that felt the same things I do
(I mean, I did understand...)
And how come I never knew
That my feelings would hurt theirs?
(And this time, I know it's true)

Dreams
Date Written: May 7th, 2024

I haven't dreamed in so long
Unless I'm in my own nightmare
Wake me up from this cycle of hate
I feel for myself
Day in
And day out
Tell me it's all weird dream logic
That I'll wake up and life will be normal again
I want to wake up

...but I'm so tired.
Some days I wish I'd fall like autumn leaves to be buried in the snow
Where I'll never see the sun again
But where I'll never get stepped on

Aurora Avenue
Date Written: May 10th, 2024

Am I an aurora?
Perhaps I light up the sky at night
So innocent and so pretty
But you can’t see my fright.
All the things I cannot show
All of me you will never know
All of me I will never be
Where will I go?

I am an aurora
Trapped in a meadow
You’ll see what I put on as show
But you’ll never see me
Not the one I know

I don’t want to be an aurora
Where all I am to you
Is what I show you what you think is true
Please, spot me in my blue
See me, help me, guide me
Or anything you can do
I don’t want to tell you what to see
And I don’t want to tell you things you’ve known
But I don’t want to be alone

I am not an aurora
I abandoned that name long ago
Now you can call me Ora
Until that, too, is buried in the snow.

Feelings Mixed Up
Date Written: May 10th, 2024

I think I have my feelings mixed up

Does depression feel like a sense of an ever approaching disaster?
Does dread feel like caring about someone so much that you are shrunk back at the thought of something remotely bad happening to them?
Does love feel like a self-consciousness that builds up so high and so strong that you know you’re about to collapse under the weight of all your mistakes and all your flaws?
Does anxiety and self loathing feel like the racing heart of things that don’t matter but make you feel like you’re about to die anyway?
Where even the smallest things set you off crying and all you want to do is distract yourself or stay asleep forever where nothing can hurt you?

Pool
Date Written: May 15th, 2024

My body is a pool.
My body is a pool of blood and sweat and tears
Made out of every small and insignificant moment I cry at night.
The rain of responsibilities fills it to the brim
Teetering on the edge where you can't tell
If there's water in it at all
It's so slow and insignificant that I don't notice until it overfills and floods my brain
And drips into the well of shame.

The well of shame is a dark place
Where murky thoughts lay.
Broken glass shards sparkle within, promising it will make you sparkle too.
Promising it's good.
Promising it can help.
And before you realize the shards are sharp and tear into your skin, making you bleed out to stain the water you once thought sustained you,
You're already submerged.

The broken glass is your broken reflection.
It lies to you, showing you only pieces of the truth
But it is the truth
The mirror shards aren't foggy; they show you your reflection
In perfect detail
And every detail screams
THIS IS WRONG
YOU'RE WRONG
YOU SHOULDN'T EXIST
WHY DO YOU EXIST

My body is a pool.
Except there are no beach towels
There are no floaties and no sunglasses.
All the kids that used to play are gone
Only echoes in the wind
And fading golden memories
Clasped in broken picture frames
Remain.
Sun bleaching all their color
Through the cracked glass.

My body was a pool
I'm drowning.

Being Human
Date Written: May 16th, 2024

The hardest part about being human
Is not knowing what will come next.
Every step you take
Is trusting the ground with your life
Hoping it's promising not to collapse under you.

Sometimes the unknowable facts itself is what makes people so afraid
It's called anxiety
And being scared of the dark.
You're not scared of the color and lack of light
In fact, sometimes it can be comforting
You're scared of things you don't know are lurking inside.

You can't say who's going to die next.
It's going to happen one day and there will be nothing you can do about it.
You can't say what she's going to say when she walks up to you,
It's going to destroy you, one of these days.
You can't say anything
Because you can't even predict what you're going to say before you say it.

You can't say anything
Because you don't even know yourself.
And that's what scares you.

I'm Sorry
Date Written: May 19th, 2024

You have a blank page. An open stage.
An audience.

What would you say?

Some people might say hi. Some people might introduce themselves.
Some people will just start the story.

Me?

My first instinct was to write, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry.” What does that mean?
Does it mean I’m sorry that you have to listen to me?
Does it mean I’m sorry for things I’ve done that you didn’t even know (or care) I did?
Does it mean blueberry jam?

I dunno. Maybe somewhere it does.

To me, they’re filler words. Words I say when I have nothing left.
Words I say whenever you knock into me in the halls, even though it was your fault you ran into me.
Words I say when all I can think of is every moment I hurt someone, even ones they don’t remember I did.
Words I say if–when I make a mistake, even if I’ve already made the same mistake 255 times and you’ve already forgiven me.

“I’m sorry” is the um in my sentence, except there are no other words. It gets nothing across and um is nothing more than a sound that no longer has meaning. I’ve said “sorry” so many times that my tongue feels numb, and you get annoyed whenever I utter the word.

The problem is that I have no other words.

Perfect Glass Mirror
Date Written: May 21st, 2024

My mind is a perfect glass mirror
Circular and smooth and cold
And when you look into it,
You see a distorted silver reflection
Of yourself staring back

It feels like ice melting in my hand
And weighs as much as a flower bouquet
Sometimes, if I stare hard enough
I'll notice the rose gold flowers behind me
The sweet scent of pollen in the breeze

Until it cracks
And blood runs down my fingers where I touched it
And the dark shadows of separation
Spread until the glass sphere shatters on the pavement
Inside, liquid oozes out
And I see myself in the reflection
Distorted and changing and dark
Once every angle looked the same
Nothing will be the same again

Untitled Document
Date Written: May 22nd, 2024

There are more untitled documents in the world
than there are stories that deserve names.
More untitled documents than
poems written in the middle of the night.

There are more documents with no name than there are school projects and random lists
More words not special enough to be given a name
Not special enough to be found again in the sea of all the others just like it

Untitled document doesn't mean blank document
There are still characters
Still words
Still thoughts
And sometimes, even feelings.

That may be,
But maybe most of them aren't worth remembering.

Bunny Garden
Date Written: May 22nd, 2024

Gardens
Full of bunnies
Nibbling on the grass
Nibbling on the leaves
Sitting in the dirt where everything is peaceful
They hop and stroll around
With mischief and adventure
When you come along,
They get so excited and happy
That they hop
Hop so high and adorably
Called a binky
It's like a little explosion of happiness
It will never end
It will go on and on and on
Forever
With nothing truly horrible ever happening.
It will be alright.
There's always a garden of bunnies somewhere