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2.1k · Jun 2016
Madeline Rook Jun 2016
I am feeling something
A lot of something
From love to lust, to hatred to disgust
Disgust in how you looked at me with your beautiful eyes
Disgust in how you treated me, ignoring me time after time
Disgust because I do not care, I just want you near
I want you here, I want you close and I want you now
I miss you and I am disgusted that I do
1.1k · May 2016
An Open Letter To Teachers
Madeline Rook May 2016
An open letter to teachers
I love learning
You make think that’s odd considering the blank look I have on my face every lesson
But it’s true
However when you put me in a room of thirty other kids I don’t get along with
Or don’t like learning too
It kinda kills the mood
Whilst learning definitions is important and I understand
You’ll forgive me for looking out of the window for a few minutes before tuning back in
You’re just as bored as me I know
But of course you’ll never let it show
After all
Your class is the most important of them all
Thirty minutes of homework a night at least
I study 6 other subjects
Each of them requiring at least thirty minutes too
That’s three and a half hours of work a night
Plus eight hours of school
That’s a twelve hour work day
So you’ll forgive me for yawning in your class
Afterall I stayed up til 12am the night before doing the work you set me
No of course not
How dare I yawn in your lesson?
That’s right it is incredibly rude
It is my fault I stayed up so late the night before
Doing work that you set me
How dare I?
I apologise

I love learning
But I don’t like sitting in a room of 150 other kids doing an exam
Spending three nights before fitting into my head all that I could cram
So I could have you stand over me and watch me as I write
Or the giant dreaded clock counting down from 100 to 0
Each minute going faster as I struggle to calculate how many times 0 goes into 100
Asking a question that can’t be answered
“You won’t be able to ask questions in real life”
That’s odd because my work place embraces asking questions
On the bottom of every sheet saying ‘ask the manager if you don’t know how to do these jobs’
But that’s not the real world
Part time work is not the real world
Flipping burgers at Maccas is not the real world
But it seems pretty real to me

I love learning
When I was 8 loved to do maths
Triangles and squares and circles it all came naturally
Then you started implying that maths was a boy’s area
That only boys do well and boys can succeed
I lost that love
Took a left turn at maths and English lane
Whether that was the best or worst choice I’ve ever made I’m here now
A poet who can count to 100 in threes languages but can’t make sense of the letter x
What’s it doing there?
Isn’t maths just numbers?
Are English and maths crossing over?
X and represents everything and 1 all at once
Just like how the conch symbolises law and order?
It’s just a number
A number that needs to be worked out
Ten lines at least to work out x
A million different solutions and trial and error will not be one
It’s the cheat’s way out
The girl’s way out

I love learning
My maths teacher taught me to love maths again
My English teacher taught me English was not just a constellation
My drama teacher taught me drama is so much more than the stage
But maybe this is all too late
Because when I’ve spent my life waiting to fall in love with maths again
My love for maths was lost
My love for learning was lost
My drive is lost
I love learning
But not as much as I used to
Madeline Rook May 2016
When I realised he wasn’t come back my world changed
Everything stopped
Nothing made sense anymore
My phone remained silent for days

When I realised he wasn’t coming back nothing made sense
Everything was him
Nothing was as good as him
No one could compare to him

When I realised he wasn’t coming back I stopped
I stopped caring
I stopped focusing
I just wanted him to say hey one more time

When I realised he wasn’t coming back I craved him
I craved his touch
I craved his kisses
I craved him

When I realised he wasn’t coming back I cried
Cried because he mattered to me
Cried because no one else had mattered like that before
Cried because I’d never felt heartbreak before

When I realised he wasn’t coming back I stayed who I was
I stayed true to my beliefs
That I do not need a man to make me who I am
Put his memory to the side of my mind

When I realised he wasn’t coming back I relaxed
I knew now that I only had to worry about but me
I lived for me and no one else
I was free

When I realised he wasn’t coming back I missed him
Maybe he’s gone now
Maybe he won’t come back
But I miss our memories

When I realised he wasn’t coming back I wrote
Wrote poetry and stories
Maybe he’s gone now
But **** he makes for good material
519 · May 2016
Nobody's Home
Madeline Rook May 2016
Nobody’s home
Your loud desperate knocks fall silent on empty hallways
Echoing off the closed up doors and windows
Nobody’s home
You try again
One knock, two knocks, three
Growing more desperate as you try to see if someone’s home
But everything falls silent
The echoes dyeing within seconds
No footsteps coming to greet you at the door
Nobody’s home
Your attempts fall flat as they reach the battered up hallway
But the sound doesn’t reach much further
The dog doesn’t bark
The cat doesn’t dare make a single step
Nobody’s home
Now the knocks become louder and louder
More desperate as you try to hear something more than unanswered echoes
Louder and louder
Drawing the snooping neighbours in
Peeping over their tall fences trying to see if you’ll be let in
Starting whispered discussions wondering why you are there
Are you there to collect money?
A cup of sugar or something more?
Their conversations staying quiet
Their ears stay open seeing if they can hear one more desperate knock
Money passed around the fences
Betting on what you came for
Coming to collect a long lost child?
Or just saying hello?
None of these neighbours will ever know
But their ears stay open
Their mouths begin to close as they hear one last desperate knock
A knock that yet again falls silent on empty hallways
Echoes bringing back the sounds of what was
And what will never be
A knock that brings back years of memories
You’ve heard this before
And yet here you are standing at her door waiting to hear it once more
One last knock for the crazy desperate man
Now he knows that nobody is home
There won’t be footsteps there to answer him
The dog won’t bark
The car won’t awake to see what’s happening
But he knocks again
Bringing back the wave of memories
Trying once more to smell the sweet smell of her
Cookies on a cold day
The smell of a sprinkler on full blast on the hot ones
The touch of her
Her face
Her face that not for one day has left his memory
Every day he remembers her
Remembering what once was
And what will never be
And he does that happily
For he knows now that his desperate knocks will only echo back silence
Bouncing on walls and doors that should be his
Polished door handles
Immaculate house
That fluffy dog to greet him when he comes home
The neighbours begin to leave
There’s nothing much more to see here
Something much more interesting must be happening on TV
Money is handed back and conversation falls quiet
Doors slamming, windows banging, kids shouting
Sounds that used to be so familiar are now distant memories
The man takes in one last breath
A soft knock
A quiet knock
So he can know that he did not leave without a fight
He turns and spins and decides to leave
Nobody’s home
That what he thought
Until he saw a car pull in
A car that just may let him in
482 · May 2016
Don't Read The Comments
Madeline Rook May 2016
Don’t read the comments my dear
They will tear your beautiful opinions down
Out of fear
Fear that you are smarter than them
That your liberal position conflicts their conservative view
The dominant view is changing
And they’re going to take it out on you
Don’t read the comments my dear
They will tear you down
Say you are wrong
That your opinions don’t belong
And if you read them long enough you’ll believe the comments
Don’t read the comments my dear
They do not deserve to tear down all your hard work
For a petty fight
Fought because they are losing their own
Against themselves
Stand for something
Don’t read what the comments say
Don’t fall for them because you are entitled to what you believe
Your opinions belong and they matter
Debate what you believe to be right
Don’t read the comments my dear
But don’t fear being wrong
Because as perfect as we think we are
We are not
We are all flawed and sometimes we are wrong
But don’t let the comments discourage you
Admit you are wrong and move on
Learn and live
Stand for something and don’t fall for anything
Don’t read the comments my dear
But don’t fear being wrong
361 · May 2016
Writer's Block
Madeline Rook May 2016
Hello again my old friend
It’s been a while since we’ve spoken
Pen to paper
Fingers to keyboard
Sat down and just chatted
I have a lot to say
I don’t know the same about you
How have you been?
Have you missed me too?
I’m sure you’ve seen I’ve been typing a fair bit
But my words never seem to reach you
Sometimes I wonder if you notice
Sometimes I wonder if you care
Do I offend you by this?
Do you even think if I’m still there?

It’s been a while since we last spoke
I haven’t opened up in a while
I heard you haven’t too
Weeks ago we’d rely on each other
Talk for hours every day
Now we just stare
Sit in silence
Wonder what’s happening
What is the other one thinking?
I know you’re always here for me
And I’m always here too
To listen you’re happy
Help you when you’re feeling blue

It’s been a while since we last talked
Not much has changed
I still think about you
And how I must write
But I never seem to get around to it
With work and school
You always slip my mind
Always end up on the bottom of my to-do list
And when you’re number one
I can never think of what to say
Yes a lot has happened
But it feels like everything’s stayed the same

It’s been a while since we last chatted
But I know you understand
You haven’t spoken too
I’ve seen you typing here and there
One day we will meet up
Talk again like we used to
Until then my friend
Good luck
I hope you’re doing well

— The End —