Today Lauren and I decided to clean out our closet (which is more like an extra bedroom than a closet) and I found a box full of journals and half-finished stories from high school. It's actually kind of interesting to see some of the common themes in my writing during that time in my life. Most of it was about relationships I had with my friends, boyfriends, and family members. One of the best things I found (which was actually something I had been looking for for awhile) was a book of poetry I had started writing in during my sophomore year of high school. Some of it is really really bad... I am almost embarrassed to say I wrote it, although I suppose I can just say it was a rough draft. There were a couple of good ones that I thought I would share here for posterity's sake.
"Censored"
[5.23.2007]
Sometimes the thoughts in my head
Manage to make their way out
Before reason gets a chance to censor them
It seems as if I am suffering
From some type of verbal incontinence.
Although I suppose now would be the appropriate time
If there ever was such a designated time or situation
In which one would be allowed to be
vulnerable
defenseless
exposed.
Maybe I could wear a surgeon's mask
That would filter all the words I said
As they made their way out of my mouth
It would capture the rogue words
Better left to the confines of my subconscious
Letting the rest slip through,
Slightly indiscernible
But at least not emotionally jarring...
Then I could talk to you again
Without feeling like such a fool.
"Addicted"
[9.29.2004]
I'll never be what you want
Even though I try my hardest
My heart pumping a million beats
And all I want is to know
That I'm good enough
Countless hours refining my skills
Going out of my way to do what you want
I don't know why I stay here
And allow myself to sink further
Some are addicted to drugs,
Others to money,
But I am addicted to the painful submission
Of earning your respect.
"Photograph"
[11.04.2005]
I develop all of my responses
In sepia tones
But you don't see it
You've only seen black and white
Never the confusing chromatic shades
That I know so well.
Whenever I look at this photograph of us
It is like seeing a negative
Everything that was once dark is now light
And now I understand,
It was never about me.
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