Young Writers Society

So there's something I need wait- HAVE to tell you.

Here it goes..

Shit.
I don't know what to say.

I love you.

Shh, shh.
Yes, I know you know that.

But, in a different way than ever before.

Let me explain.

From the moment I wake up, I need to hear your voice.
The depth of it, the beauty of it. It awakens me, but not just literally, from the inside out.
It reaches into my soul and enters the cavity of my heart saying "Wake up! This is the sound you live for."
I've never told you that.

You're eyes have a certain sparkle. It sounds so cliche, I know.
But you're eyes could light up an entire city. They capture me, pull me in until I'm drowning in the pools of a golden iris, begging to be saved but hoping no one hears me.
I've never told you that either.

Everytime I'm with you, I feel the need to wrap my arms around you and tell you how much I miss you when your gone. How I miss you even when your right beside me.
When you get one cenimeter too close my heart pounds and my lips begin to pucker, I loose my voice and forget my name.
I dream of kissing you, of walking down the isle because everyone says it'll happen. "You guys are perfect for each other, it'll happen." They say. I brush it off, but I wish and pray that one day I get the chance to prove them right.
You didn't have a clue.

Just one look of you glancing at her, makes my heart split in two, makes my stomache twirl and my head spin.
I see the love linger in those eyes, I absolutely love. I hear the yearning for her touch lingering off each word you say.
Every time she disses you or puts you off, I see how much it hurts, and I want to take it away but I can't. It's not my place.
I'm just the best friend with an undying love for her best friend since fifth grade.
You couldn't have known that.

Do you see what I'm talking about, this love is very different from the one you feel for me.

I don't just love you Cody, I'm in love with you.

Oh my god. This was unconventional but still so very very very amazing. Not only does this radiate with every word you've written, but you make it so able to be related to- but without being unoriginal. Not only that, but I could totally relate to this in every way, eerily so.
You're great, and as an 'order' I think you should keep writing. too good not to.

-Renn

This was a very beautifully written poem. Does it relate to you? It royally sucks, loving someone who doesn't love you the same way. Teenage angst :/

I liked:

1) Your proper use of grammar.

2) No spelling or punctuation errors.

3) Your use of imagery. I love to see the scene in my mind's eye. I saw a girl with sad eyes, glancing wantingly at a handsome man who, in turn, was staring at a popular girl.

All in all, loved the poem. Good job! d(^-*)b

-Ariel

I have absolutely no idea about the extent to which this short story is true, but for the purpose of this review, let's assume it's fictitious.

Love can be split into many different categories. Love at first sight, as it is called, is rare - love usually evolves from a simple fleeting desire, as, apparently, is evident here. What comes of that is up to the initial lover and the reaction of his/her subject of attention.

Assuming this hesitant first step proves to be a success, there are three basic paths that this love can take. The first would be failure: both, at some level, agree to arrive at a mutual agreement that their love would come to nothing in the end. The second, of course, would be success.

The third would be lust.

In a way, the third path is almost worse than the second, because it implies that one of the two failed to respectfully acknowledge that the other did not share his/her views on their relationship. Instead they continue to press the other, continue to attempt to force their feelings upon the other, continue to anger himself/herself with his/her failures.

Lust is powerful; lust is illogical; and lust is, above all, dangerous.

Can it even be called love? It depends, I suppose. In the early stages, respect might still linger (For what is love, if not respect?). But later, as the tumor develops, it begins to border on senselessness, on addiction, even. No - this is not love.

This piece was interesting because it took on the perspective of one who has only just begun to feel the symptoms of a premature lust. You see Cody as someone who should love you, who should feel the same emotions towards you as you are feeling towards him. You find it frustrating that he doesn't recognize the fact that you love him, and yet you are determined to have him in the end. Even the sparse little grammatical mishaps seem to at some level support this point. Take the following, for example.

I see the love linger in those eyes, I absolutely love.

What is it you absolutely love? Where is the subject? It hardly even matters, because the reader knows by then that you love everything about this Cody. It shows how half-crazed you are even while writing about him. I like that.

Near the end, though, you start to teeter off. You introduce characters like

she

and start throwing little bombshells at the reader that try to reinforce the atmosphere but end up only confusing me. Stick to what the reader knows, to what you've already told me (especially at the end), and you'll be golden.

Good stuff. Keep writing.

-Kafka

I thought the story line was good, but I was having a little issue with the gender of the person speaking. Was it a girl or a guy. Also is Cody a guy or a chick? Other than that I thought it was very descriptive and well worded.

I am a chick, he is of the male gender.