the poems

This is discontinued for now, because I’m lazy, but I’ll leave up the current explanations

Is this page not a fabulous idea? You don’t think so? Well, bye then.

If you haven’t left, here is what this page is – a week ago I asked you guys if you’d want the stories behind the poems I write. Of the five (WOW THANKS GUYS) people who answered, the majority was yes. So, instead of putting up posts, which would be irritating, or adding it to the poems, which would ruin them, I’ve decided to make it a page. I think it’s a great idea (*pats own back awkwardly*) but if you think it’s horrendous let me know. The only problem may be finding the poem you’re looking for, but just hit Ctrl+F and you should be set. Each of the titles will also be linked back to the poem they’re talking about.

Keep in mind that this is a work in progress so they won’t all be up immediately, and if they are they probably aren’t great XD. Most recent will be at the top.


blistered fingers and chapped lips

I type this explanation on my phone as I lie in bed, the same place that I wrote this poem. To make a long story short, I was very overwhelmed. All I wanted was to drift off to sleep but I was bombarding myself with worries: piano practice, revising for the PSAT, getting my history done, doing volunteer work, getting yearbook interviews, assigning deadlines, deciding whether to talk to a guy, hating myself in general, doing to chores, not being a bitch to my family, writing AP exams in the fall, getting into college eventually… I was having a mini panic attack and I couldn’t cry. So I broke out the old Apple Notes and threw together the beginning of a poem which eventually become “blistered fingers and chapped lips.”
So yeah!


Well, Zuid-Afrika is Afrikaans for South Africa.

I was there for a month last winter, and even though I’ve grown up in the States, I was born there and lived there for 5 years, and my dad’s whole family is Afrikaans. So going back was…such a huge experience. Africa in general is just captivating, and knowing that, in essence, a piece of me belongs there is…indescribable. A month there felt like a week at most. It is my fondest wish to live there when I get older. The people, the atmosphere, the scenery… I can’t imagine not being a part of that again, at least for a time.

I also met a guy there (that’s the last stanza)….. And even though nothing really happened, it kinda did, and we’ve kept in touch. He’s just very unique, and has such a way with words…he’s the one who truly made me realise that you can’t let spelling and grammar and all that nonsense eclipse the meaning and beauty of a poet’s work, something I didn’t really get before. We sort of just got each other, stayed up all night talking and wishing on stars…it was special.

So yeah, I really left my heart in Africa



I actually wrote this about another boy, in what seems like another lifetime, but I came across it today and it applies very well to a certain someone right now. So, even if he’ll never know, this is for him.



As the title suggests, I came up with this in Biology. Everyone was still working on their test corrections and I had nothing to do. Then I heard the rain and tried to see out of the little skylight in the plant room she has adjacent to hers, and I was just really feeling it. I love rain. Almost as much as snow. Everyone else grumbles about getting wet and cold and complains about their perfect hair, but I don’t mind any of that. I barely brush my hair. I love the cold. Rain is beautiful.



Well, this one’s kind of obvious. It’s kind of the conflicting reasons behind why I write poetry. It was inspired by a prompt on Opuss (DOWNLOAD IT IF YOU HAVE AN IPHONE) though



This was actually written something like a year ago when I was trying to get over my ex. I kept looking for something new and everything went back to him. I had a thing with him for at least 2 years, so cutting ties was really difficult. I eventually did though. I posted it tonight because I’ve sort of been feeling the same way about a guy I dated in May, except that I’m not really attached to him, I just have feelings for again but refuse to date right now.



Okay so it’s just a little haiku, but basically I hadn’t slept the previous night and I truly felt like I was slipping into a place that would eradicate the world when I awoke



Oh. Another haiku. Good job Vicky.

I tend to do these as I’m going to sleep, but this one was about a guy I’ve liked since I was ten that I had a thing with two summers ago when we went back to visit (we moved the previous year). I fancied myself in love with him (still do, a little) and he has the most flawless, ice-blue eyes you will ever come across. They haunt me.



This was actually for an acrostic contest on an app called Opuss (IF YOU HAVE AN APPLE DEVICE AND LIKE TO WRITE GO DOWNLOAD IT). It wasn’t really about anything, just a general poem about getting over it.



This is another one I wrote last year that I started to relate to again when I was slipping into a bad place. I’m nowhere near perfect but I am the good kid of the family, who does fabulously well at school and all, and I feel like sometimes they don’t realise I’m not like they think I am



This poem is a bit more general…it’s really just about giving someone your heart and hoping they’ll treat it well, and how terrifying that is.



I wrote this on a five-hour drive to a camp, and I just couldn’t get all the things I’ve messed up out of my head. The last line was about a guy I was talking to at the time who was really messing with my mind and I was just done.



This was also about the guy mentioned in Regrets. I was in a really bad place, and I realised that the thing that was doing me the most damage was him. And that was my fault, because I was letting him affect way more than I should have.



This one is pretty self explanatory…when I began to cut again I needed a way to justify it to myself and explain it to others and this was the result.



I always hate my body, but when I wrote this particular poem I just despised myself. Suicide is not a thought I have ever entertained, but it worked itself into the poem. I think there might have been a separate backstory/inspiration with this, but I cannot for the life of me remember.



This was an interesting one…it’s the only poem I’ve ever made into spoken word and the only video I’ve ever done. I wrote it after reading about the Ferguson Riots in AP Lang and realising how little we did, just sitting here an analysing some article about this tragedy. It also put into words a reality I’ve known for a long time – that all the schoolwork I do and effort I put in is really just so that I have some sort of purpose, some goal. It’s not actually important to me. It’s an escape, not a hardship.



I wrote this about a guy who I wished could be that way for me. Even in the relationship we sort of had, he was sort of a storm to me, always getting me worked up instead of relaxing me. But it was addictive. I don’t know. All I wanted was to feel his arms around me even once, and even though I never had I could in my mind. Okay this makes me seem really weird onto the next one



This was originally called “untitled but I decided it needed a name. Maybe I should have left it. It won me the poetry contest at my school for the second year running, and I’m glad because I think they saw it for how everyone, especially teenagers, can relate to it. I have a good life. I have everything I really need. But that doesn’t mean that I’m not very broken on the inside sometimes for reasons I don’t even understand.



This one actually won me the contest the year before “I Can’t Be the Only One.” I love this poem so much – I sent it to my best friend, who it is about, and she cried, which reassures me that it’s good poetry. We used to own a big house up in Northern Idaho and she and I would climb onto the long coffee table, and dance to Shania Twain in front of the long mirror that hung on the wall. We didn’t understand her lyrics – we just liked the tunes and it was something we grew up with. But when I listened to her songs again 10 years later, and could relate to many of the lyrics, it really hit me. We were so happy…so carefree. What happened?



Ugh. This poem. There’s this guy, who I had a really weird thing with, I thought he hated me but it turned out he liked me, (he’s the one I liked since I was 10, if you read that comment on the blue eyes haiku) and when we spent the night at their house (they’re family friends) he told me and we kissed and stayed up all night and it was perfect. Then he was a jerk the next day (which later turned out to be because I had told him we couldn’t date, cause I lived 1000 MILES AWAY) and said he liked my best friend (excuse the drama I was 14) and it was all really shitty. But we texted for the next year or two and called each other, so it wasn’t just a one-time thing, and I was very crazy about him. I’m still not sure how he felt at any point because he’s a fabulous liar and emotion-concealer, so that was all very difficult.

Anyway, last year, after he got my best friend pregnant, I decided I was officially done even thinking about him. And for months I was. Then I had a dream with him in it and he was just holding me while we slept and I really thought it was real and when I woke up I was in tears, and feeling so lost. Dreans are terrible things. So I wrote this, The feelings lingered for a while, then I stopped dreaming about him and was okay.



I was texting a friend over the summer excessively and I kinda fell for him. We would text until like 3 am, and this is just about the feeling you get when you really like someone, and while you’re texting you get carried away and it’s wonderful…but then they go to sleep and everything sort of hits you, and you can’t get them out of your brain, and you rethink everything, and it’s just poisonous.




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