Middle School poetry

I started cleaning out my school papers and old journals in the attic today. I found a book of really bad poetry I wrote in middle school. Obviously, I had some serious Sylvia Plath issues going on. I idolized her. I also wanted to be a beatnik in the West Village in the 1950s and wear only black and smoke skinny cigarettes. I guess it's not too late to make these dreams come true, except I really don't like New York. Sorry, youth. Dreams crushed.

"Teen Idol"
Leaning against some plank on the wall
Stiletto boots making my feet throb
Hands folded together on my stomach
Not knowing what to do with themselves
I am so uncomfortable.
Out of the blue
Our eyes meet
Forever it seems
For so long
I grow awkward
Wanting desperately to smile
Eyes aching to turn away but cannot
You always break it first
Moving on to play other girls in the crowd

"Waxing Winsome"
My fascination with fire
Playing with the soft wax
Until my fingers burn
Molding it onto my fingers
Pressing the soft warmth to my lips
Pretending it to be someone else
Shredding it to crumbs
When it is not.

"Self-righteous"
Consume me
I smell like tendrils of a wild bruised blossom
The sisterly song plays
One I am not a part of
Forlornly on the outside edge
Arrogantly proclaiming
I do not care.
The black void of nothingness
And empty emotions
And spineless awakening


"Film Idols"
Everywhere I turn
Black and white beautiful faces
Staring back at me
Only a thin pane of glass
covered with dust
separates us
I want to break the glass
with my clenched fist
Breaking the barrier of time and reality
So what if it cuts my hands
and makes it bleed bright
Red drops of blood
streaked across white tile

"Soapbox"
He's such a poser
she says
Aren't we all
I want to say
All of us sitting around
Pretending to be like
the one next to us
until we forget
who we were in the beginning


"Cliche's reflection"
Underfed
and overstated
Overrated
Tiny trite lines bubble forth
A frothy brown foam
from the mouth
of the one who has spoken
They do not notice
continue to jabber
senselessly
Until it runs down their shirt
and puddles around their shoes
until they choke and heave up
their own self