Untitled 80s

I started blogging my old teen journals in August of last year, and, in poking around to see if other thirty-somethings were dredging up their awkward adolescences, discovered your site. It's delightful. There's a few of my angsty teen poems at my blog, erstwhileslattern.blogspot.com, but I'll include the creme de la crap here for you:

12/22/89

moistening crystalline shards
that pierce sterilized flesh
that is screaming yes
this crimson nightmare
that's mixed with tears
promises everything
but gives less

cringing and curled in a darkened hall
picturing all you have ever known
questions of whether to rise or fall
come from cracked lips
in a wrenching moan

blades that catch light
and that glimer hope
give but a fleeting euphoria
so tempting the skin's
every curve and slope
and thoughts of all those
who've destroyed you

This was written while I was in the throes of an obsession with - you guessed it - a boy. I was also just discovering the secret joys of "cutting," which is apparently still all the rage with the thirteen-to-sixteen set. I suppose you could file this one under "Life Sucks (and I want to die)."

Best,
Tits Mcgee