Below is a poem that I’ve copied word-for-word from my high school journal. I was 17 years dumb. I don’t write this type of stuff anymore BUT Paul’s recent poem made me slightly nostalgic of the old wanna-be-poet I was once-upon-a-teenage-time AND I’ve been meaning to reconnect to my teenage self via my old journals for a while now. I get this feeling that I’m going to dig up a lot of stuff that I can still relate to today- and this poem, is a prime example of a little treasure buried deep in the emotionally-complex rubbles of my pre-adulting years (I’m still emotionally-complex but for a shitload of completely different reasons, of course).
Who is this girl,standing here before me-
staring back at me with equally tired dark eyes.
“Why are you so sad, girl? Tell me who you are?
Tell me why you’re angry with the world. Won’t you tell me why you cry?”
Why is she hesitating? She cannot get herself to speak-
She is silent, yet she tries with all of her might to scream.
She wants to be heard, but I can sense that she is much too weak.
She feels so many mixed emotions within,
but doesn’t know what any of them mean.
As I stand there before her- desperate to understand what’s wrong.
A wave of dejavu takes over me, and it’s not very long,
before I remember this sad girl…I remember who she was once was-
But she was never this broken-
she was always so strong.
Where is her passion?
why has she gone astray?
Where is that fire?
That glow that once gently kissed her face?
All at once, I can suddenly feel all of her pain.
I can touch her soul and understand her sorrow-
I’ve stood beneath the same rain with her-
I was with her just yesterday,
when we made a pact to give up on tomorrow.
This strange, broken blur-
She is an accumulation of all of my regrets,
of my guilt, of all of my hurt.
I am the hesitant girl-
that no longer cares to try to speak.
I am the silent girl-
who tried with all of her might to scream.
I am the broken girl-
who once wanted to be heard.
But the world-
has made her much too weak.
I am her. I am the broken girl who seeks-
a moment of peace, a moment of empathy, a moment of inner tranquility.
I am the strange and silenced girl staring back at me.
I am her.
And she is me.
We are broken reflections-
Seeking quetionless answers-
Seeking ways to perfect our imperfections.
Apparently I was going through some heavy stuff at 17. It’s hard to tell [insert sarcastic eye roll]. Flipping through my high school journal was embarrassing even for me, the writer. I can barely recognize who this person was! There was SO MUCH SAP, I’m pretty sure I earned the classification of Gummivore on the food chain back then. (If you didn’t know- well a Gummivore is the kind of species that literally feeds off of sap).
I’m telling you, you’ll learn something new every single post around these neck of the woods ladies and gents! You just stick around and keep taking notes in your handy dandy notebooks.
I’ve stopped writing this kind of numbing poetry because well-
I kind of stopped being a sap over the years. I’m more of an ass now. You can thank broken hearts and adulting for that. I lean towards sarcasm and humor to divert what’s actually happening inside now… (please say the following in your head with your best impersonation of a gangsta) it’z jus who I BE yo!
It’s insane just how much a person can change through time isn’t it? But still, if I ever come across “that” version of myself, I maybe vow to go for it and let her come out and play. What do I have to lose anyways? Besides my dignity? Pffttt…
Share something you wrote WAY back when… don’t leave me hanging out here on a limb of vulnerability. I showed you mines now show me yours.