Young Writers Society

It went by too fast
My mind’s left in a blurry vision of
The bus stops, alleyways behind his house, garages
And I walked home a worried girl
“If you say anything, I’m never talking to you ever again, later.”
On the stage, before practice the next day
I screamed and it echoed back to me
More painful than having a bullet to the stomach
I crawled to the corner,
Behind old coats of past secrecy
Around a broken mirror
And I sat there crying
“God, what have I done, what have I done?”
Until she came up to me, the play’s “social worker”
“Liz, tell me what’s wrong.”
So I told her of what I did,
“He’ll dump me. Colton’s going to be so mad…”
Swish…
“Who’s there?” Curtain swaying, she ran off to the theater black
“Oh God…” I muttered to myself
I sat back there a while wondering
Sniffing old stage dust, finally brushed off and crawled
Lifting my knees above the glass and looking at my red face
I crawled behind the path behind the red cloth
And I heard them speaking…
What she said, I don’t remember: what did he say?
Nothing… nothing at all,
The corner he was standing in was black
(Crossed arms, swollen eyes, forgive me)
Light flickered into a cold, hard strand on her
She ran off, not looking at me, only into her hands
Weeping, but why?
I looked at Colton…
“Colton…” I was being overly dramatic
I couldn’t tell reality from fiction, only a nightmare
“I am sorry…" was all I could squeak out
Pause
“We’ll talk later,” he brushed by me, away to the stage
God, please not be out of my life too
I broke down against the wall
“Why God, why me? Why… why…”
Why, it’s the hardest question to answer
I blame myself, for his pain, for mine
I was supposed to be a terrific girlfriend
His first girlfriend
Instead I slapped reality into his face so bitterly and so harsh
I fear he won’t want to love again
What’s worse, it was a week before Valentines Day
What kind of selfish yarn am I?
If I scratch away at my wrists now, with a broken mirror bit,
Close my eyes, and slit!
Please God; don’t let the memory be of the pain,
Of what I did, don’t let it replay,
Of Colton in the corner, of the tears
Of my unwell, egotistic soul

OOOHH RANDOM EMOTIONAL RANT!

YAY!

I have to break it to you Liz, however, that as a piece of writing this wasn't all that great. You lost me by the second line...though I need to hear someone else's opinion so that I know it wasn't just me being my insane, short-attention-span self.

Colton, Colton, what has he done this time, eh?

THIS WAS A LONG TIME AGO YOU LITTLE TWERP YOU BETTER EDIT THAT POST OR HE'LL SEE IT!!!... I better edit this or he'll see.... Look what you made me do!

er...you sort of lost me, lol. But hey...sure...okay. like sams aid, random emotional rants are awesome...do it all the time.

For some reason it seams like a strobe light. Like disjointed images put togather to make your poem. That probably doesn't make any sence, does it..

it makes sense to me, Jennafina. I liked the beginning, I love disjointed stuff.

Fuck Sam.

I think it went way too long, though....it lost my attention after a while, and then, it all read like the same thing....which is always bad...

I think it's best when you're not quite sure what's going on, and there are no real details, just vague images, like you're remembering it, and there are only certain things that come back...no details, no details at all....

If you rework it, I think it'll be great.