Writing in my Room

August 28, 2010
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Brown golden curls piled on top of my pimpled forehead,
New hairbands making a rainbow of pastel colors digging into my wrists, forgotten and unused
Long nails clack-clack-clacking across the shiny black plastic squares.

The drums emanating out of the speakers beat out a steady rhythm that alternates and harmonizes with the clacking keys,
Green eyes watching the dark screen half a foot from my nose that reflects the sunlight on my tanned, tiny hands,
Neck aching, propped up by flattened useless blue pillows.

Hands rest on my flat chest while the green eyes roam around the room, searching,
My uneven teeth worrying the frayed, worn flesh inside my mouth,
The mess of a purple-painted room glaring at me, the floor invisible, t-shirts and jeans piled haphazardly everywhere.

Book titles stand out in bold reds and golds, drawing the eyes away from the bright paintings of suns that decorate the walls,
Sunlight spills from many recently-cleaned windows,
And the hands land on the plastic keys once more, clacking quietly against the powerful beats.

Clack, clack clack. Clacking for a while.

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This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

CallMeFelix said...
Oct. 2, 2010 at 4:21 pm

This is...hmmm...um...disturbing in an undisturbing way and absolutely beautiful in an ugly way. If that makes any sense whatsoever. The picture is really weird...reminds me of Paranormal Activity (which isn't a bad thing lol). Anyway, I agree with star about the fingernail sounds and the emotion thing. Good work xD Keep writing!

Check out some of my work? =)

starxoxo23 said...
Sept. 26, 2010 at 8:03 am

Three words: I LOVE this!!!

Writing about a very simple experience with this much emotion and elegant wording is something that takes talent. I like how this poem starts off by mentioning the sound your fingernails make when typing, and ends the same way.

I can only think of one suggestion - maybe try expressing to some extent how you're feeling and what you're thinking when you write.

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