Young Writers Society

Text Version:

There you are, old friend.
I’ve got some questions, you know, stuff I can’t really say out loud to anyone else.
“How do you keep it together, being the one everyone looks at but never really sees?
I’ll wait, because I know you don’t rush with answers, you take your time.
I’ll make myself comfortable.”

“It’s not really calm, you know,” you said:
“but I’ve learned to carry what I must—tides, dreams, the lonely thoughts of people like you,
who look up at me hoping I’ll give them something I don’t really have.”
Your eyes dimmed for just a second. I saw that.

“Is that why you’re always so quiet?” I asked, soaking in your soft glow,
“Is that why you just watch, instead of jumping down here and fixing things yourself?”
You took your time, like you always do, letting the silence settle between us,
and I almost thought you wouldn’t answer. But then, with a gentle sigh, you spoke.

“I’m quiet because I’ve learned that not everything needs fixing.
Sometimes, all we can do is witness, just be there for the things we can’t change.”
It made sense, this quiet wisdom of yours.
The world below is full of noise, of chaos, and maybe that’s why you choose to remain so still, so distant.

But then, you spoke again. “I remember why I’m here,” you said, your light flickering just a bit brighter,
"even if it’s faint, even if it’s borrowed. And I find strength in that, in knowing that my presence,
however small, means something to someone, somewhere.”

“Thanks,” I breathed, “I needed to hear that.”
You didn’t say anything, but your light stayed with me,
You shifted, just slightly, and the light in your eyes dimmed again.
You looked at me, and in the quiet of the night, you whispered something I wasn’t ready to hear.

“You see, I’m not what you think I am,
I’m just a reflection, a mirror of something far away. I hold no secrets, no answers,
only the light borrowed from another. The truth is, you’ve been talking to yourself all along,
searching for answers within your own darkness, projecting them onto me.”

The world seemed to pause; my breath caught in my chest.
And in that moment, I realized—
it wasn’t you who needed to listen,
it was me.

Hai :3

I reviewed one of your other poems!! ^_^

I really like this one!! It's so soft yet so heavy at the same time!! The conversation-like flow is just perfect ~~ I adore how it opens, like you’re talking to this old friend who’s been there for you forever, but there’s this aching sadness underneath it all that builds in such a beautiful way. It's like I am stepping into something intimate, a long-standing relationship, but with some weight to it. There's so much unspoken tension that never comes to fruition, but it's so incredible here!!

The whole question of being seen but not really seen!! That hits deep. Like, you're talking to someone (or something?) that’s always there but never fully acknowledged. It's something I've never considered for the moon, something almost not perceivable past a surface level, but I'm really enjoying it!! The poem turns inward in such a profound way when you look past the metaphors.

I’ve learned to carry what I must—tides, dreams, the lonely thoughts of people like you

it wasn’t you who needed to listen,
it was me

Love the voice in this - really nice poem Ley!

Hi, just popping in with a review!
This is so profound, the imagery really sucks me in. The conversation format just really makes the message sink in that much harder.
Again, the imagery is so vivid. The usage of metaphors using light is one that I think really fits here. The voice and tone of the poem fit here, and this is truly an amazing work. I will be reading more of your work now, I loved this one so much!

Just dropping by to say that I really love your poetry! Your very talented, and the covers are also very pretty <333