Here I Come | Teen Ink

Here I Come

December 5, 2009
By Andrew Whitley BRONZE, Aurora, Other
Andrew Whitley BRONZE, Aurora, Other
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Here I am
Desperate to alleviate my pain, dying to dispose of it
But I cannot
It penetrates me, plays me like a puppet, then burns my insides, as a numbing joke would
Eating away at me, like acid, like a sickness
The pain, it builds, packs on, as the dilapidation of a home does
A broken home, a home I have come to know all so well
The home that has created this monster, this creation of misjudgment

The violence, it hits like a wave and then crashes
Lashes out, cuts flesh deep
Convolutions frantic. A panicked frenzy,
Faster than the wave
Crisper, more shocking, less prevalent

The pain, it travels from the wound to the heart
The tenderness grows tense, then severs
My fissured heart
Pierced and hypertonic
Pain flows in, love trickles out lifelessly

A gargoyle I am soon to be
Fast approaching, metamorphosis to stone
Hollow
No touch, no feeling, no hope
Sheer emptiness
Glass emptiness
Never shattered

Pain, hurt, suffer, repeat
Each day identical, a struggle worse than yesterday
Not as calamitous as tomorrow
A spiral
Downward, blackened emptiness
As though taking a vacation to hell itself
The destination now permanent this time, everlasting
Bask in the pool of pain
Feel the broken bits of my interior eroding
Until it has become dust, nothingness in its most feeble form
A hot, fiery escape from the world

My silence makes him justified
Slaps, threats, kicks, insults
Fists to the face
If the heart could bruise, mine would be black
Black as the night sky
Without stars, without moon
Darkness

I watch, a soundless ball on the floor
Defeated, just as mom is
Gasping for each breath
A last breath, an end to his unruly reign
Merciless man
She weeps, begs sympathy
The deeper her cry, the harder his hit

Here I am
Still dying, rotting on the inside
Yet I still hold onto it, the ache, the red hot burn
I am the weak, the powerless, the pathetic
The byproduct of a monster
Carving me concave, like a pumpkin
Inserting the blade gently
Every riveted steel point puncturing my flesh
Inch by inch, as though it is an art, ruby red blood rushing to the opening
Reaching in, grabbing my heart
Tearing it clean from my chest
As he did to her

Pain abandons the chamber
Heart lying there, still, motionless
Picking it up, he adds it to the trophy case
No more suffering
No more hurting
No more emptiness

Happiness
I don’t know you
What you look like
Feel like
Sound like
Taste like
But here I come…


The author's comments:
Teen Ink:

Devestation. Pain. Suffering. Fear. These are all aspects that are presented within my latest piece Here I Come a poem of the human experience, the teenaged experience in the life of a young girl attempting to endure the hardships of a crumbling and abusive relationship. The piece is reflective of the heartbreaking struggle that teens across North America must tolerate to live through on a regular basis, the unfortunate reality that is known all to well to the new generation. I have had the unfortunate experience dealing with a troubled young woman who has had to withstand such abuse which is why I feel as though I have a legitimate insight on such a physically and emotionally crushing aspect of our society. With an English and Writing award to my developing resume, I feel as though I have a piece that will benefit your respectable website/magazine with the most superior level of sophistication.


It would be my honour and pleasure to have an opportunity for my piece published in your distinguished website/magazine. I look forward to hearing your response and will be anxiously awaiting feedback on Here I Come. I thank you sincerely in advance for your time and consideration on a piece that is significantly dear to me.


Yours’ in writing:






Andrew W.

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Hopey BRONZE said...
on Jan. 5 2010 at 6:02 pm
Hopey BRONZE, Newmarket, Other
1 article 0 photos 1 comment
Ahemm... great poem except i think ya mis-spelled a word in your query.. haha I'm just kidding. Little detail. Overall this poem really hits you hard when you read it, and there are some really creatively superb lines. Congrats on this!