So I tried my hand at poetry...

[Ultima]

Here's some more for you guys.

To Those Who Know Who They Are

I may not of had a good start
I may not be "gifted"
and I wasn't always smart
But I've got something else
I've got a brain
and I use it too
Unlike you

If
You used your brain
You'd see that I may not be you
But I'm something better
I surround myself with
Valleys in the Rockies
Fields of rye
and orchards in California

What do you surround yourself with?
With emptiness and bitter words
A wave of dismissal
and shallow friends

So no,
I'm may not know as much as you
But I go deeper
Instead of sitting on the surface
I plunge into the depths
I get the iceberg effect

And I deserve what I earn
I was not given a label
in fourth grade
I earned a life in eleventh
and have blossomed even more

So no,
I don't have as many facts
As you
But I know passion
and how to pursue it

So who is the complete person
Me or you?

I can relate to this so much its scary

 

[Ronan]

Meg, these poems are awesome! They stand on their own, speaking clearer than most people do to me. Great work :3

 

[Meg]

Dear Asshole,

How are you?
Good to hear.

Are you the same?
Here, I'll explain:
Did you grow up some?
Good to hear. Now let me ask you:
Do you still think I'm an idiot?

You do?
You still think I'm a waste of life
and not worth your time?

You do?
So sorry, but you haven't grown up.

Keep trying.

And when you get your head out of your ass
Let me know.
I'll be in the library.

Sincerely,
Meghan

:troll:

 

[Angel]

I haz kweschun, if you don't mind answering (and if you'd rather not, then that's ok) - do you base your poetry on personal experiences or do you write "in character", as it were? I find that sort of thing interesting, you see.

 

[Meg]

I haz kweschun, if you don't mind answering (and if you'd rather not, then that's ok) - do you base your poetry on personal experiences or do you write "in character", as it were? I find that sort of thing interesting, you see.

Personal experiences. The Dear Asshole one isn't based on an actual event, it's just me imagining what it would be like to talk to all the....well assholes I went to high school with again.

 

[Angel]

In that case, it makes it all the more interesting to me, especially your first poem. I'm always fascinated to see how people vary in their creative expressions of certain events, shall we say. I admire that you put it into that style...it's a little unusual to see when one tends to find a more...how shall I put it?...angry approach to the subject matter. I always like to find out where inspiration comes from because it tends to make the writing all the more poignant and emphatic.

 

[Meg]

In that case, it makes it all the more interesting to me, especially your first poem. I'm always fascinated to see how people vary in their creative expressions of certain events, shall we say. I admire that you put it into that style...it's a little unusual to see when one tends to find a more...how shall I put it?...angry approach to the subject matter. I always like to find out where inspiration comes from because it tends to make the writing all the more poignant and emphatic.

Um....thank you? :blink:

Well, yeah I'm a sexual assault survivor. I mean when I say I'm over it though. The kid apologized a couple years later and we got along pretty well after that. I haven't seen him in a few years though. I guess you could say the anger in the poem was directed at the situation (that women have to carry around safety whistles) and not at any one in particular.

 

[Angel]

Um....thank you? :blink:

Well, yeah I'm a sexual assault survivor. I mean when I say I'm over it though. The kid apologized a couple years later and we got along pretty well after that. I haven't seen him in a few years though. I guess you could say the anger in the poem was directed at the situation (that women have to carry around safety whistles) and not at any one in particular.

Hehe - didn't mean to confuse you, if I did. As a former survivor (first time I've used that word for it) myself, I always find it interesting to read about others' reactions and interpretations. I didn't see anger in your poem, really (I meant more that others tend to write more angrily whereas yours wasn't like that), it seemed more kind of like, "and what the hell is a whistle going to do?" sort of thing. That was my interpretation anyways although it was probably not what you meant.

Either way, you got an apology - that's more than most get.

 

[Meg]

Hehe - didn't mean to confuse you, if I did. As a former survivor (first time I've used that word for it) myself, I always find it interesting to read about others' reactions and interpretations. I didn't see anger in your poem, really (I meant more that others tend to write more angrily whereas yours wasn't like that), it seemed more kind of like, "and what the hell is a whistle going to do?" sort of thing. That was my interpretation anyways although it was probably not what you meant.

Either way, you got an apology - that's more than most get.

SURVIVORS UNITE!

And there is some anger in the poem, but I meant it to be subtle next to the sheer depressing crap of it all. Yeah.

 

[Meg]

Racing Thoughts

Hands slipping
Out of Tune
Why?
Why can't I control myself
Why does my heart pound out
Of my chest
Like I'm being attacked
Why am I so upset
That I can't write as fast
As my racing thoughts?
Why can't I focus
Where is this coming from
Why does this happen
Why can't I sleep?
Mommy save me
I can't control myself
I need to run
To scream
To burn this energy before I
Explode
I want calm
To be truly calm
No more anxiety
That holds me close
All day
Every day
Refusing to let me go
Stop please
Let me go

And let me crawl
Into this bed
And sleep
Like I so desperately
Need

 

[CHAOSBRINGER546]

meg you are acually epic at everything like seriously how you so good

 

[Meg]

I wrote these two poems one right after the other:

Welcome

I used to say
"Come on in
Make yourself at home"
I would stand there
With my welcome sign
Waving like the child I was
Anyone could come
Bring your friends

Then it hit me
I wasn't the welcome sign
I was the welcome mat
Getting stomped on
Dirt, mud, and grass
Smeared on my face

But that was then
Now I'm a door
An iron door that's locked
From the inside
And no one outside has the key
That stays with me
And none of you will get it

But why not?
You'll abuse it
Force your way in
Make a wreck
And then leave
Never.
Again.

From now on
It will be me, myself, and I
And the three of us are enough
You can stay away
He/she/it won't get in
I'm not welcoming anymore

People can lie so well
A smile can seem so real
I'm not even trying anymore
Just stay outside
Trust's done nothing for me
So no, you're not welcome

------

Silence

Why is it so hard
To say how you feel?
Why is it so hard
To open your mouth
And tell your friend
What's bothering you?

Why can't I speak?
Why do I feel like
The needle and thread
I used to try to fix my pants
Has closed my mouth instead?

Why am I crying?
Why does silence hurt so much
When you're the one keeping yourself
Silent?
I have the power to speak
But I take that power from me
Every time I sit there
Amongst people who will understand
And say nothing

Why should my identity be a crime?
Why should my beliefs be punished?
Why am I doing this to myself?

Enough.
Bring on tonight.
I will speak.

 

[Meg]

It Rained Today

It rained today
That was fitting
I couldn’t think of a better way
To spend my day
Than to watch the water fall onto me
And wash down my cheeks
Since no water will come from me
I tried my best
But it’s all dried up
From years and years
And what about years?
How many years do you now have?
Ten? Twenty? One?
None?
I’d like to say many
But I have doubts now
There’s nothing else for me to do
Except pray for you
But I’m having doubts about that too

 

[lorddemolatron]

Well its okay to show ours works, well me as FanFic writer I had also tough times when I been on Polish version of FF.net, mine first fanfics was lame, now I gotten better skills as I been taugh in mine Highschool and well now Im better writer. Well your poem is okay, at first.

 

[Meg]

Well its okay to show ours works, well me as FanFic writer I had also tough times when I been on Polish version of FF.net, mine first fanfics was lame, now I gotten better skills as I been taugh in mine Highschool and well now Im better writer. Well your poem is okay, at first.

Uh....ok? :/ What did 98% of your post have to do with this thread?

 

[Meg]

Reject Table

There’s a table in the dining hall

It seats two people

And is pushed off to the side

It’s away from all the others

And hardly gets attention

But sometimes,

Someone, maybe two, will sit there

But they don’t stay long

They use the table and leave

Then it’s back to how things were before

But now,

There is another table for two

Sitting next to the reject table

And it stays

So now the reject table has a friend

And so do I

 

[Meg]

Not Your Place

I see you standing there
Tall and proud
Things can shake you
But nothing can break you

I see you shining in the sun
Your face reflected
In the water

You're just a hop skip and river
Away from me
Aren't you?

It's been so long
So much has changed
But you're still the same

I want to run to you
To cry before you
To let it all out for you

Then I will wrap myself up
Inside of you
And for the first time
Since that time on that date
I will be home

 

[Meg]

Spiral of Nothingness

I’m numb inside
The words swimming in my head
Keeping me up and restless
Twirling in my bed
And sweating and crying
Out my anxiety
Will not come out of their cave
My fingers are bored
My heart ****ing aches
I need to get it all out
But instead I’ll just suffer
Insomnia
Nothing new there
I just want out
To no longer scream in my head
But have my mouth be silent
I’ll reach down my throat
And rip the words out if I have to
But that won’t work
My hand won’t fit in my mouth
I’m going down a spiral staircase
Sprinting
With nothing at the bottom
Just more anxiety
And insomnia
And words that won’t come

 

[Meg]

Alone

You never know
True loneliness
Until you’ve been surrounded
By people
Who don’t care that you’re there
They don’t care

You never know
True pain
Until you’re surrounded
By people
Who love you
But not as much as everyone else

You’re everyone’s least favorite friend
The last resort
The “since no one else is available”
You’re not that great

Your inbox is empty
No missed calls
Or calls at all
No invites
Nothing to do at night
They’re all out without
You

Forgotten?
Or just ignored?
Which is worse?
I miss being alone
But I can’t go back
You can’t miss what you never had
But you can’t stop missing
What should have been
What you thought was yours
What was a false hope
A glimmer of light
And then nothing
Once again

Alone

 

[Dante's Stalker]

Just a question, do you have an account on fiction press?