wonderland03 - Hello Poetry

did you hear the one that goes “every time i try to make a **** joke, it always comes out a little too… forced.” no, i haven’t but have you heard the one about the girl who can no longer sleep without waking up in a cold sweat because the room was too cold and his hands were too cold against her already frigid skin have you heard the one about the girl who has trouble walking down the street in the dark now it’s a nightmare for her she quickens her pace, clutches her purse closer to her side like it’s her sanity have you heard the one about the girl who bursts into tears at the mention of December fifteenth, how her mind replays the events of that night like a broken record over and over and oh god when will it be over every memory comes back without her asking for it, without her consent because oh, he didn’t get that from her either these jokes are made all the time, but no amount of humor lies within them the truly funny thing about it all, are the reactions from the people we expect would have enough sense to understand that it wasn’t her fault to understand that she didn’t want it that she wasn’t “asking for it” that she didn’t deserve it. i told my sister about December fifteenth and she said “maybe if she hadn’t been drinking, she could have pushed him off. said no.” i told my father about December fifteenth and he said “maybe if she had just not gone to the party, he would have never seen her in the first place.” i told my guidance counselor about December fifteenth and she said “look at this picture.” she showed me a picture of the girl from my history class. lindsay. “look at what she was wearing,” she said. “don’t you think that maybe… she was asking for it?” i looked at her with pure disgust. she quickly corrected herself. “asking for attention, i mean.” i took a moment to look at the picture she showed me. there she was - sweet, darling lindsay ‘never seen without a smile’ lindsay ‘always willing to help’ lindsay ‘straight a’s good grades’ lindsay she was beautiful. she had a beautiful smile, a beautiful mind, a beautiful heart. and he took it all from her, along with her virginity don’t you dare tell me that he did it because of her outfit.

0

Jan 9, 2019

Jan 9, 2019 at 10:31 PM UTC

wonderland03

****** harassment

did you hear the one that goes “every time i try to make a **** joke, it always comes out a little too… forced.” no, i haven’t but have you heard the one about the girl who can no longer sleep without waking up in a cold sweat because the room was too cold and his hands were too cold against her already frigid skin have you heard the one about the girl who has trouble walking down the street in the dark now it’s a nightmare for her she quickens her pace, clutches her purse closer to her side like it’s her sanity have you heard the one about the girl who bursts into tears at the mention of December fifteenth, how her mind replays the events of that night like a broken record over and over and oh god when will it be over every memory comes back without her asking for it, without her consent because oh, he didn’t get that from her either these jokes are made all the time, but no amount of humor lies within them the truly funny thing about it all, are the reactions from the people we expect would have enough sense to understand that it wasn’t her fault to understand that she didn’t want it that she wasn’t “asking for it” that she didn’t deserve it. i told my sister about December fifteenth and she said “maybe if she hadn’t been drinking, she could have pushed him off. said no.” i told my father about December fifteenth and he said “maybe if she had just not gone to the party, he would have never seen her in the first place.” i told my guidance counselor about December fifteenth and she said “look at this picture.” she showed me a picture of the girl from my history class. lindsay. “look at what she was wearing,” she said. “don’t you think that maybe… she was asking for it?” i looked at her with pure disgust. she quickly corrected herself. “asking for attention, i mean.” i took a moment to look at the picture she showed me. there she was - sweet, darling lindsay ‘never seen without a smile’ lindsay ‘always willing to help’ lindsay ‘straight a’s good grades’ lindsay she was beautiful. she had a beautiful smile, a beautiful mind, a beautiful heart. and he took it all from her, along with her virginity don’t you dare tell me that he did it because of her outfit.

66

i don’t know why i’m still here, honestly. i mean, my rooms not clean, there’s a stain on my jeans and i barely know how to work the washing machine. i’m fifteen. i’m a teenager. in a few years, i’ll be choosing a major at a college i’m not completely sure i want to attend, like upenn, columbia, yale, or brown…? thinking about it makes me want to drown. but only figuratively, not actually. because nobody really means what they say anymore, like “of course i got your text,” or “yes! i definitely remembered your birthday was tomorrow” or “yeah, i’m only five minutes away,” or “i love you.” i don’t know why i’m still here, honestly. i mean, i’m an academic burnout. in ballet, i didn’t have the best turnout. i was never even a girl scout. my mom said when in doubt, always tell the truth. okay. sure. i can do that, at least i thought i could. i did, up until the point where i couldn’t tell where the truth ended and the lies began. i said the tears in my eyes were just allergies. i began to realize i was running out of energy. everything i did, i did haphazardly. looking back, i wonder if it was even reality. low battery, my phone continues to tell me. and honestly, i don’t know why i’m still here because i lose everything. i still can’t find my charger. my classes are getting harder, and at this point, i’m highly considering just becoming a farmer. but i already know that’s out. i mean, lets be honest no amount of plants can get me the money that scholarship grants can. maybe...maybe i should just become a doctor. you know, perform transplants, give implants. with all that money, i could take a trip to france! sometimes, i’d rather be there than here. other times, i feel like i should just...disappear. but it’s not even that serious, i mean for the most part, me being quiet is just me being mysterious. other people might even call me delirious due to my lack of experience in this brand new job that goes by the name of ‘life’. i said it already. i’m a teenager. i don’t even know why i’m still here. and if i’m being honest, i don’t think any of us do.

0

Dec 29, 2018

Dec 29, 2018 at 10:45 AM UTC

wonderland03

new year’s nothings

i don’t know why i’m still here, honestly. i mean, my rooms not clean, there’s a stain on my jeans and i barely know how to work the washing machine. i’m fifteen. i’m a teenager. in a few years, i’ll be choosing a major at a college i’m not completely sure i want to attend, like upenn, columbia, yale, or brown…? thinking about it makes me want to drown. but only figuratively, not actually. because nobody really means what they say anymore, like “of course i got your text,” or “yes! i definitely remembered your birthday was tomorrow” or “yeah, i’m only five minutes away,” or “i love you.” i don’t know why i’m still here, honestly. i mean, i’m an academic burnout. in ballet, i didn’t have the best turnout. i was never even a girl scout. my mom said when in doubt, always tell the truth. okay. sure. i can do that, at least i thought i could. i did, up until the point where i couldn’t tell where the truth ended and the lies began. i said the tears in my eyes were just allergies. i began to realize i was running out of energy. everything i did, i did haphazardly. looking back, i wonder if it was even reality. low battery, my phone continues to tell me. and honestly, i don’t know why i’m still here because i lose everything. i still can’t find my charger. my classes are getting harder, and at this point, i’m highly considering just becoming a farmer. but i already know that’s out. i mean, lets be honest no amount of plants can get me the money that scholarship grants can. maybe...maybe i should just become a doctor. you know, perform transplants, give implants. with all that money, i could take a trip to france! sometimes, i’d rather be there than here. other times, i feel like i should just...disappear. but it’s not even that serious, i mean for the most part, me being quiet is just me being mysterious. other people might even call me delirious due to my lack of experience in this brand new job that goes by the name of ‘life’. i said it already. i’m a teenager. i don’t even know why i’m still here. and if i’m being honest, i don’t think any of us do.

53

what is fear? is it the smell of smoke and ashes with a raging fire over the hills? it is a common misconception that the flames take the lives of the majority but actually, it’s the smoke that kills yet we never make that a priority due to the uniformity of smoke detectors placed in our homes to ease the apprehension is it the sight of a car accident over on the side of the interstate? we know staring is a sin but it’s as if we cannot look away seems like the car was the source of the flames it’s evident that the girl will be hospitalized until half past eight so we stay and wait for some sort of update but the ambulance is running late and she can’t see straight; she’s in the hands of fate but we take a deep breath when ruby red and azure blue headlights zoom past our peripheral vision we take a deep breath to ease the fear is it the taste of your own blood on your pale lips as you lay paralyzed? the medic was specialized in handling events like this but you envision the blurred profiles of the loved ones you struggle to reminisce and the amount of blood lost was making you weak not to mention the cut on your cheek that made your skin even rosier than before. and you, you are iron-woman with only a little less iron in your veins you are superwoman breaking out of the chains that hold you down the hallucinations are almost over now so the paramedic straps an oxygen mask across your face to ease your fear is it the feeling of needles poking and prodding, heads shaking and nodding as everyone talks about you but you? every breath is a pain and you could no longer feign a contented expression nothing but disdain remained there was no such thing as comfort anymore yet the anguish was something you couldn’t even begin to ignore so the doctors gave you a sedative to ease your fear is it the sound of your mother’s cries that breaks the silence in the room when your father begins to wipe his own eyes? “i know you love her, but she won’t recover unfortunately she’ll have to suffer” is what the doctor muttered underneath his breath lord how he hated explaining death so they all gifted you flowers cards and compliments were showered onto the hospital bed but despite every effort it was becoming more difficult to fetter the fear that was now simply just an aura and everyone was looking for a way to ease their worries these flurries of fear could not be contained any longer nevertheless; without fear, there would be no such thing as bravery.

0

Apr 25, 2018

Apr 25, 2018 at 8:26 PM UTC

wonderland03

embers

what is fear? is it the smell of smoke and ashes with a raging fire over the hills? it is a common misconception that the flames take the lives of the majority but actually, it’s the smoke that kills yet we never make that a priority due to the uniformity of smoke detectors placed in our homes to ease the apprehension is it the sight of a car accident over on the side of the interstate? we know staring is a sin but it’s as if we cannot look away seems like the car was the source of the flames it’s evident that the girl will be hospitalized until half past eight so we stay and wait for some sort of update but the ambulance is running late and she can’t see straight; she’s in the hands of fate but we take a deep breath when ruby red and azure blue headlights zoom past our peripheral vision we take a deep breath to ease the fear is it the taste of your own blood on your pale lips as you lay paralyzed? the medic was specialized in handling events like this but you envision the blurred profiles of the loved ones you struggle to reminisce and the amount of blood lost was making you weak not to mention the cut on your cheek that made your skin even rosier than before. and you, you are iron-woman with only a little less iron in your veins you are superwoman breaking out of the chains that hold you down the hallucinations are almost over now so the paramedic straps an oxygen mask across your face to ease your fear is it the feeling of needles poking and prodding, heads shaking and nodding as everyone talks about you but you? every breath is a pain and you could no longer feign a contented expression nothing but disdain remained there was no such thing as comfort anymore yet the anguish was something you couldn’t even begin to ignore so the doctors gave you a sedative to ease your fear is it the sound of your mother’s cries that breaks the silence in the room when your father begins to wipe his own eyes? “i know you love her, but she won’t recover unfortunately she’ll have to suffer” is what the doctor muttered underneath his breath lord how he hated explaining death so they all gifted you flowers cards and compliments were showered onto the hospital bed but despite every effort it was becoming more difficult to fetter the fear that was now simply just an aura and everyone was looking for a way to ease their worries these flurries of fear could not be contained any longer nevertheless; without fear, there would be no such thing as bravery.

81