Today, Sam told me that I was “temporary”.
So I ask him,
see I like to manipulate people sometimes,
if I was a placeholder.
Sam says, “Yes”.
I reply with a, “Wow”, and I walk out of the room.
Again, I like to be overdramatic, so I hop out of the bed,
slam the door (unintentionally of course)
and wander down to second floor to see the Droop Master.
Master Droop is on the phone,
so I start crying.
I rarely ever cry,
so I was having a little bit of fun with it
seeing how I could make my voice waver
and how easily I could push those little droplets of water out of my eyes.
I call Veronica,
she comes up,
and she gives me the rest of our cigarettes.
At this point, I’m having so much fun with being angry and sad
that I run with it, literally,
through the puddles from the day’s earlier storm.
My bare feet pitter pat along the sidewalk,
around Barrett,
down the stairs,
and to a secluded smoking spot past the grass and below the building.
Laura and Taylor are there,
we see a flash, and
wonder if someone has taken a picture of us.
It could have been lightning,
and we comment how the air in our little spot is stagnant,
airplane like.
I light up another cigarette (I only have one left now),
asking if anyone has something that I could throw against the cement wall.
I picture myself with a glass bottle,
one once full of wine perhaps,
watching it shatter,
and finding comfort,
seeing the clear green shards spread out against the pavement.
Momentarily, I have a thought of skateboarding down the ramp
that runs parallel to the stairs
that lead to our little underground foyer.
Laura says she wants to go to the coffee shop now,
so we all leave.
I’m okay with that,
my feet again consumed by the puddles on the ground level.
Allo.
You've already gotten a very good review by Kyll, and I agree with his comments. Especially about how much smoother the second part of the poem reads in comparison to the first.
I'd ask yourself what you're actively trying to accomplish in this poem. While reading it, my impression kept changing from a girl just exploring her emotions to somebody unaware of them and just going through life the way she thinks it's supposed to be. I find this poem could be so much richer if you clarified that at the very beginning of the poem, giving us an opportunity to get a second layer of meaning from this.
Right now, I'm reading it as a series of pretty images that sort of connect together but don't really. A lot of it is the early part of the poem, which sets a totally different tone. I liked your very first line, about being temporary, and I think this poem could be so much more beautiful if you just expanded in the almost numb reaction she seems to have after, so each action gets a meaning readers can interpret on their own. You have what seems to be the shell of a heart, just waiting for readers to fill with their own interpretation, but no opening for readers to slip that in.
Open this up a bit so there's a cause and effect, and I think you'll have a fairly strong poem.
Hope this helps.
~Rosey
The beginning half of this felt quite disjointed in the not-good way. Asides like this:
and
really felt out-of-place and forced. They're there, they don't fit, and so they completely destroy the flow of ideas. They also felt a bit heavy-handed, put there to make something super obvious, like telling rather than showing. It would have been more effective and far less disruptive to hint at the manipulation and contrary feelings, or only state a contrary feeling outright once, rather than just drop in in the poem every so often.
In addition, your transition between events is very abrupt/nonexistent. One moment the narrator is walking out of the room, the next, she's getting out of bed? How can she be getting out of bed immediately after walking out of the room? You need some sort of transition or signal to let the readers know that time has passed between the first action and the next. In this case, the signal could be as simple as starting a new stanza.
There are a lot of jumps that don't make sense for the apparent time frame in the first half of the poem, and that really creates a feeling of disjointedness.
Another thing that weakened this poem was how padded out some of the lines were. For example:
In this case, the second "I" is unneeded, and all it does is bulk up the line and make the narrator sound even more selfish, which makes her pretty unsympathetic. While the unsympathetic part might be intentional, there are enough "I"s floating around as it is, and the bulk it adds hurts far more than helps.
You've also got some inconsistencies between lines that can't be explained away by a lack of transitions:
So is it "Droop Master" or "Master Droop"? Are they the same person, or different? And if they're different, why are their titles so similar? Right now, there are no answers to any of those questions, and so all the titles do is look like a mistake and confuse the reader.
The latter half of the poem starting from the "I call Veronica," line flows is so much more consistent than the first half, and also has much better images. You could probably cut the first half away and, with a little tweaking, have a much stronger poem with just the latter half by itself.