Weekend Writings #4
I was a contestant for a poetry contest once. My teacher actually made me join because of the way I wrote in her class. She thought that I would be "perfect" for it; however, that was the furthest from the truth that she could have predicted.
I worked for hours trying to think of something to write. I would purposely make myself feel depressed by watching, listening and reading depressing works of art. I think that the experience that I put myself through just to make a poem has affected me to this day. There are still some pieces of work that mentally fuck me up when I hear, see, or read them. Sometimes I purposely try to do that, but most other times I prefer to stay sane.
I was mocked for what I had written for the poetry contest. Others believe that it was sexual, while I didn't think so at all. I saw it more as two friends trying to experience the world together through wild sensational dreams before the day they were split apart, but my friends and even some teachers kept point the sexual references out to me. Eventually, I started to see where they were coming from and I have hated this piece of writing ever since.
Anyway here is the piece of writing:
The night of your Scarlet blue dress
the rise of my firiery red pheonix
for a night in paradise
I will bring you to
your wildest dreams
of which when the music plays
and the words are touch me slowly
But as she waslks
out the door
to the bright lights
this is not what she will remember
For after that night
our lives changed forever.