This Is One Of Said Poems. Written In A Week-long Writing Class For The Prompt 'what I Want My Words
This is one of said poems. Written in a week-long writing class for the prompt 'what I want my words to do to you' have read it to a crowd twice, both times at least one person cried. Could also be my naturally sad yelpy tone though idk.
Somehow almost all my poems make people cry. So either I'm:
One: a bad poet but my stories are sad enough that I can make people cry through bad poetry
Two: a good poet with stories that are just kinda sad but can be manipulated with words into beautiful poems that make people cry
Three: a good poet with sad stories that are enhanced through poetry to make people cry
Or four: a bad poet with stories that aren't sad and people are just crying because they feel bad that I'd choose to read them bad poetry
Either way, every time I read a poem to an audience, it seems like at least one person will cry or tell me they almost cried and had to actively hold themselves back.
Don't know exactly what to make of this. My poems are usually about my bad life experiences though, so I guess that probably plays a role.
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Feminine urge to just ghost everyone because you're done with your emotions.
Things they never mention when you cut off someone as a middle schooler:
Sometimes, it can take years to realize how bad things were.
You start out thinking that you just didn't click. Then you begin thinking of it as toxic. Then you start realizing it was manipulative. Then after 3 years, you can finally see it for what it was. You were being abused. It was an abusive relationship.
But you can't go around and say that. After all, you were both 13 and you didn't even date or anything. You were just friends. And sure he was bad to you, but didn't you mess up a bit too?
People tend to make their assumptions and tune out the rest of the story once you bring up that it was in seventh grade.
Meanwhile every time you have to see him in class, you die inside a little more. He makes eye contact with you once and you're in a state of panic for the rest of the week. You're scared that one day he's going to try and do something else- get revenge on you for rebelling against his control and refusing to be his little puppy anymore.
You walk the halls in terror. He could be anywhere, any time, ready to get back at you. He's tested the waters and learned how badly you fear him. He seems to take joy in that.
All your friends swear they would protect you, but you know they wouldn't be able to intervene quick enough to avoid any damage being done- mental or physical. You know that he's still stronger and more set in his views. He wouldn't lose any fight against you, it doesn't matter if he chooses words or fists.
You live in fear. Some don't believe you, others don't fully understand. Some swear to protect you, others seem to think you would deserve it. But no matter what, the only thing you know for sure is that if something happens, you are completely, and utterly, fucked.
APPARENTLY RIORDAN CONFIRMED SOLANGELO'S RELIGIONS AT SOME POINT?
This might be a day late, but hear me out… [The concept of WOMEN]
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I have absolutely no idea what this blog will hold. random thoughts? art? stories? probably just whatever comes to mind. you can call me Iris. she/her
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