Poems | Teen Ink

Poems

January 10, 2019
By Smithwh BRONZE, Fairfield, Iowa
Smithwh BRONZE, Fairfield, Iowa
1 article 0 photos 0 comments


Venom

Your words, they bite

Into the flesh of my arm

Forcing the hatred into my veins

And causing my sadness

To grow as your venom spreads

To my feet and to my brain

I am allergic to your venom

And there is no antidote for me

 

Anger

When I anger, I do not yell

I do not cry,I do not fight

Instead, I lie there and think

About everything wrong with me

And let it seep into my mind

Intruding my brain
And making my happiness hide

 


Scars

Once you look around at people’s arms

At people’s legs and people’s scars

You start to see who they truly are

And what they did

Where they are

You finally get to know them

Instead of a smile

Instead of a laugh

You get to know their past  

 

 

 

Stage

Feet make contact with the floor

The room is silent

My arms start to shake

I see the mic and I lean into it

I can hear myself

And then I’m gone

My voice turns off like a radio

And no sound will come out

Tears start to roll

Like credits on a movie screen

Everyone is watching me

As I stand there and say the words I know

I do not forget them

I continue on

It takes all of my strength to finish up

And it takes all I have to walk on once again

And say my name and hers

Hands are clapping and I walk once more

Towards the line of my friends

Waiting for me with open arms

 

Sorry

I say the word often

I do not know any else

To say what I am feeling

I do not know why I am this way

I just want to make others happy

But everything I do is a mistake,it seems

And the words I say lose their meaning

I say it over and over again

But for me

Its meaning is endless

 

 


Happy

Happiness is not entirely foreign

For sometimes when I smile

I do feel joy

But other times I feel empty

As if everything is a lie

When people tell you to smile

They do not mean a real one

They mean one that they consider

A smile good enough

To pass itself off onto your face


Scratch

I used to scratch and itch my arms

Until the skin was torn

And ripped and bloody

Until it stung enough to hurt

Until I had to go to the nurse

But maybe all I wanted

Was for someone to notice


The author's comments:

I'm from a small town of Fairfield Iowa. I've dealt with a lot, even going to the hospital twice. These poems are ways of expressing myself to others, and letting them know how I think. 


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