Young Writers Society

Anxiety: that feeling that chains me to my bed,

Makes the lights look wrong and bright,

Shakes my body until it is jumbled into a labyrinth,

Fills my nose with sickly nostalgia and reminds me of

Childhood: when everything was easy and fun,

Playing pretend in my backyard with ponies and horses.

Springtime with the big, flowery, happy tree,

But memories always tainted by that one

Friend: laughter and growing and jokes and reminiscence,

Somehow always by my side even when I turned my back,

Always grateful for those who stayed,

But always reminds me of

Second Grade: when I was best friends with her,

And everyone hated us, and I hated us too,

Because she always made me feel sick, and I think a part of me died when she said,

“Kiss me.” And I had to because if I didn’t, she said I’d

Die: that word she used to threaten me when I didn’t want to oblige,

It means I’ll never open my eyes,

But I was dead every time I was with her,

Because oh my, was I

Blind: how I followed her around day after day,

Like a dog on a leash, a slave to a master,

All that following lead me to worship at her feet,

A god-fearing child who bowed every time she looked at

Me: it was never about me, always about her.

And those lies she made up so I would do her will

Always revolved around her her her.

And now it seems she’s all I think about, even when I

Write: how I express this wandering soul,

Who writes letters in code and puts them in a bottle,

I am the interpreter, these words are not mine, but the spirit’s,

But must every single message be about

Her: a story locked inside, a pronoun that

Has always had a distinct name.

A lingering particle floating in my mind,

Cracked and shattered because I can never quite remember

Everything: something she didn’t take from me.

But surely, she took something,

Because lately every syllable holds her voice,

And often I’ll lie awake and just

Wonder: what she did to me. Why she lied to me.

Did she ever have a hold on me? I have no lasting trauma,

Only questions residing in this labyrinth of a body.

What was her

Meaning: things I hold close, connotations and memories,

Feelings and words, all attached to something.

It seems she was a part of many things,

And all I want to do is take her meaning

Away.