Let’s start the day over.
With me
Groping for a ghostly membrane
from 1700 miles away
Dancing with specters in my kitchen
Romancing the walls.
Wth you somewhere,
anywhere,
who cares?
Because this empty glass
could be full
if I closed my eyes.
I’m as safe
as you’re far away
as she keeps her distance,
while a girl throws rocks at a wall
too tall
for her eyes to see
the end of
you and me
and him and her
because only so much can survive a 20 second
night.
Shine your eyes towards the light.
This won’t be alright.
—-Tegan, age 17 (untitled)
Stuck In Bed
I don’t want to be lying in this bed anymore.
At first I was tired,
And I fell onto the mattress
And enveloped myself in the embrace of a blanket
As if it was a welcoming sea of comfort.
And now,
I’ve been in the water too long,
And my skin is becoming pruney
With the regret of the things I’m not doing.
I lie here feeling stagnant,
As if every second I remain immobile
Renders motion more impossible
My inertia is so high.
I feel so heavy,
As if the simple act of getting up
Would be herculean,
And that every step after that would be
Like Sisyphus and his boulder.
Even if I got up, I would never be up,
I would be still down in the vertical position,
And it would be exhausting.
—-Clara, age 18
Twoofing
I am no demon.
NO monster come to bleed you dry,
I shall do no such act.
Without your consent.
I am not lusting,
No cravings overriding my actions.
I am content.
To your untrained eye.
I am no addict.
No enslaved hemophiliac.
I need it not.
Within reason.
You have nothing to fear.
No fanged creature to hide from.
You’ll be perfectly fine.
After I examine your throat.
—-Tegan, age 16
embodiment of a thud
I am the embodiment of a thud.
My gut is filled with rocks
That drag me down
Into the ocean I’ve already drowned in.
My face sags, propping it up is too exhausting.
I feel like a beetle on my back,
Six legs slowly churning the air for something sturdy
Finding nothing but the emptiness
Where I lack conviction
And the space
Where my courage used to be
—-Clara, age 18
the blue chair
when the sacrifice of this life
exceeds that of other lives
we get
very old fast
the wrinkles of our age come out
a peeling blue chair on a fire escape
and we settle by the edge on that chair
till the legs snap
the pattern we make
is the sum of this life whose pavement
we have just met
(for my father)
—-Orb486, age 14
Courage (is More than a Cowardly Dog)
I learned what courage is.
It’s when you stop and count your scars.
The emotional, the physical, the indifferent.
It’s when you realize you lived through the worst
and know you’ll do it again.
It’s when gravity pulls you down so hard
the soul is ripped right out of you,
But you kept your head held high through it all.
It’s knowing the people around you have to hate you
because they love you.
It’s when you go through hell with someone,
no matter if they be friend, foe or stranger.
It’s coming out on the other side,
harmed but intact.
It’s the little things like smiles and band-aids.
It’s the big things that earn purple hearts.
It’s what all of us need and want,
when we’ve had it all along.
—-Tegan, age 16
Omniscient
You were there when I lost my trust.
Maybe not right there,
maybe off laughing with your friends.
But you were there,
unaware
that you were to become a strange twist of a
girl’s
imaginary friend.
You were there when I started lying.
Giant, dangerous, glittering
Cobwebs spinning from my mouth.
But you were there,
thrumming along,
giving the strictly sickly gossamer girl strange
glances.
You were there when I decided
I wanted you out of my head and onto a page
and from that page into the real world.
And you were there,
watching me swallow my pride
and my spiders,
to clear my mouth
and apologize.
—-Tegan, age 17
Echo
My palms are stained
With decayed racy days
When sickness was imminent,
Distant
Ignorable.
But all this rot
Is making my fingers bleed,
My joints stiffen
And my heart wheeze.
Now I’m tiptoeing
Around words with meanings
I’m not ready to say.
It was all supposed to stop when we walked away.
—-Tegan, age 17
Mother’s Day
Her breaths were deep
And soft, and clean,
And when she slept
Dreams kissed her face softly
For night after night their love
Vanquished the monsters under the bed,
Smoothed her hair and tucked in her blankets
She strode forward without fear of falling
Not because she had never tripped–
But because there had always been hands to catch her,
And dust her off,
And point true north
As she once again trusted
Her own feet.
She saw the world with hope,
For the world they had made for her
Was one woven of boundless dreams,
And their lives whispered: courage
Whenever she thought to settle with “reality”
Their love surrounded her heart
Sheltered it, protected it: a womb–
Filling in any fault lines of fracture
With faith in a happy ending
Her eyes looked fare across oceans,
But only because she knew so well
The lines of love etched into the faces
Of those who would forever stand beside her.
She could love herself
Because they loved her,
And she loved them.
And to birth this unspoken channel,
Coursing cross time and land and sea
Is the power of a mother–
Is the power of my mother.
—-Clara, age 18
She’s Known Her for So Long
She paces.
Anxious
Awaiting.
Countenance telling all.
A mistake.
Where did she go wrong?
Could this have been prevented?
Minutes.
Hours.
Days.
No one knowing.
No one caring,
Until now.
A year too late.
No cure
for no hope.
Goodbyes left unsaid.
Too attached to accept the end.
11:11 p.m.
Just like her wishes asked for.
She stops pacing.
The Earth, static.
She screams while crumbling to the floor.
Her body grows cold,
colder than desired.
White coats coaxing
the impossible.
She knows it’s over,
but she can’t deal with it.
One last look at her.
Longest drive home.
Empty house.
Her clothes strewn about,
She can’t look at them.
She takes up Jack Daniels,
her enemy.
Pink and white ovals,
her best friends.
She holds them, rolls them on the floor.
She rolls them down,
Taking shots in-between.
She understands now.
Her warm hands
caress her cooling skin.
She feels it all.
she feels nothing.
She feels her.
—-Tegan, age 16
Freezeframe
That moment
This one we’re reviewing
Was when the apocalypse started.
Two little girls.
Too old to be told what to do.
Too young to know what they should.
In that blink of an eye.
Everything changed.
—-Tegan, age 16
(not a poem, but message to teen self)
“It’s going to get better, and then it’s going to get worse. Don’t get discouraged and don’t stop moving forward. It will get better again.” —-Claire, age 22
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