I'm a patchwork on eccentricity and stupidity. I have deep moments, blonde moments, fun moments. I'm serious but have a party side.
This blog is about me..
Poems I write,
day to day things, and
stuff popping up in my head.
Hope you all enjoy. xo, Carly
Poetry&other awkward teenage moments
I post mostly normal teenage angst poems; uneditedandhorribly written. Sometimes I'll post a story about my day.It really is quite boring. It's not meant to be. Yet I don'thave much to work off... but maybe someday I'll look back and laugh. So I can remember everything. Share some things. Work on others. and feel happiness. xo.
For those of you who have read my prior post, you'll realize this is based off my actual life and infused with cooler things. It's a short story.
Helena struggled through the door at around six. She plopped down backstage. She and Anna ran through a few scenes and Helena was jumpy. It was the last show and she was excited. She gave Tommy a big hug and went to get her face powdered and make up applied. The costume designer, Helena couldn’t remember her name, was directing the girl who was applying the glitter to make swirls on the sides of her eyes. Helena played a game of hearts with Emily, June, and Britney to pass the time. Before she knew it, it was five minutes before show-time. Helena was struggling into her costume. The wings were a dark, shimmering green and a tan, filmy slip was underneath. She watched from the wings as Oberon and Titania (Brittany and June) march and slithered onto the stage. Helena watched in awe as they moved so fluidly. She was leaning forward when she felt a bump.
Distracted, she looked up to find Tommy. He whispered to her “Watch your step girl; you almost fell onto the stage.” Helena nodded and could feel her cheeks getting hot. Thank goodness it’s dark, she thought. The next scene she walked onto the stage on releve, ready to have Puck be born. Her heart was not in the show, though. Helena was still remembering the touch of Tommy’s skin. Luckily, her back was to the audience as the flower pulsed and flourished. All the faeries had there hands in the middle and were in a circle so Puck would not be seen. Helena smiled at Gwen (Puck) and Gwen gave a little wave. She was alert like an owl at night. They all brought there hands up in slow motion in beat with the music and created falling leaves with there bodies.
Once Puck was born Helena flipped into the corner and waited for Oberon and Titania to come on stage again and find the baby fairy. She kept her eyes focused on the opposite wall. She tried to not think while her arms were on fire from having to hold them up for so long.
The play finished rather quickly and she plucked pantomime flowers with Anna. Helena was supposed to be the ditzy and innocent fairy. She nailed the part. Even so, whenever she was ‘digging’ a hole to plant a flower she was imagining Tommy planting and watering the flowers, like in rehearsal. Helena headed off-stage to do a 1:30 change into a formal gown on the dot.
One minute and 30 seconds later, it was the last scene. Helena was wearing her pink party dress; fidgeting and twiddling her thumbs. Tommy said to her “Relax.”, and they waltzed onstage. She could feel her palm sweating as they danced. Step forward, releve, step down, releve, and twirl. The music was fast and Helena was on to her next partner. Even so, she was imagining her hand intertwined with his.
The music finished and the cast bowed. Gwen and Helena laughed heartily when Natalie fell, and stumbled off stage. It was decided that they were going to Guapo’s: an amazing Mexican restaurant. They all walked down the snowy street like the big, adopted family they were. Helena sat with Tommy and they laughed about all the immature things they knew. She was teaching him Portuguese, he was teaching her polish. They shared nachos and Helena’s head was about to burst. She longed to just grab his hand and spill her feelings. Yet she was an actress, and knew the consequences. The 22 year old would have nothing to do with her.
Once the meal was finished, some of the girls cried and swapped phone numbers. Helena trudged home in the January snow and thought about sharing her feelings. Instead she sang as she walked. You could see her twirling in the snow and leaning from side to side, like a happy drunk.
“Don't let me go if I'm dangling, high above the world where the angels sing. Back it up, let's turn this train around, let's get this party hopping 'til we're shaking the ground. When the ground starts shaking I'll be there to hold you tight. Don't worry about a thing cause everything will be alright. Let me keep this short and sweet, there's not a lot I wouldn't do to sweep you off your feet.” Suddenly, she felt Tommy’s arms around her. He got his lips close to her ear and said
“Whoever that’s for is a lucky man. I’m always hear for you, girl.” She laughed and bit her lip. They walked down to the metro station and she waved as she got on the train. The whole cast was meeting up for movie night next Friday. She breathed in deeply and exhaled. Helena would see Tommy again. Life goes on. So does the magic.
Wowzers, I've had a brain block for a while! (At least for me) Luckily, my English teacher forced me to write poems with this poet dude, and I finished it in Spanish class. Nothing special, but give it a read(:
Do you hear the whispering wind
Wooshing away my life
Wishing someone will hear
Please, hear the waves at the beach when I was five
My heart leaping with joy
Touch my back and watch me cry
Happiness plummeting into nothingness
Taste the donuts at my 2nd grade birthday
Smile at the proud grin on my face
Look at my scraped knees
as I struggle to stand
Smell the mulch and flowers in the fall of 4th grade...
Seeing me plant and water with my mommy
Look at me now.
Every jubilant thought, every tear shed
Was innocent and simple, fixed with a kiss
Times are changing.
Childhood is gone and life is complicated
Little joys pass by
A kiss only makes the pain worse......
Now watch me crawl into my bed
Laugh at the mascara streaming down my cheeks
Grow quieter as I wail
Hear my pen scraping the paper
Jump when I slam my notebook
Reach out to comfort and find no one is there
I am gone
The wind has taken my story
Tuck me away, like a dolly in your pocket
So I will not disappear
I walked down the row
Didn't see you
your sister said you weren't coming
I felt a pang in my chest
Yet it subsided rather quickly
and I had no time to wonder why
I worked, and laughed, and had fun
whilst i did not think of you
it confuses me; when i thought i was head over heels
what will happen when i won't see you for months?
I thought you were different
then the boy on cross country
who i forgot about in days
I worry
yet somehow do not
because I am writing this
and still care
So, last night my dad went to the theatre instead of the factory (different rehearsal spots, opposite sides of town) so I got home late.
Then, for tonight, my director suddenly switched my times for rehearsal and to the theatre! joy.
So now I'm just sitting around on a bunch of different computer sites. Ugh.
Anyways, hopefully I'll have some emotions to spill tonight! xo.
Poo..... I accidentally mentioned my blog to my parents.... ugh, and now they'll probably read stuff. I'm asking you now, Mom or Dad, please don't. There's nothing wrong with me. It's just embarrassing. Thanks guys. xo.
Bleh, almost every poem for the last week has been about this one guy (with a few exceptions). Sorry if it is extremely boring, I just have nothing else important going on in my life that is driving me this insane. Some are insanely happy, others crazy sad. What can I say? Just normal teenage mood changes. Thank you for listening to my rants. xo.
Do you hear the silence of the night creeping in....
Opening the window and crawling on the floor
The gust of wind escapes through the cracks in the wall
Seeping in to your damp and sweaty sheets
I can feel how scared you are; that cold sweat breaking out
In the bed;.. right next to you
The silence is inside
The night has snuck into the house and now you must abide
The weekend has been long, hardly an hour of break
The sleep has been short
the night has been sweet
I am going to bed
to crawl under my sheets
turn off my lights
and close my eyes
I overreact
I post things on the internet
I laugh too loud
and I read too much into everything
This blog is not for adult eyes
especially not my parents
It's just a stupid teenager getting her thoughts out
and her friends can read them
I don't mind if they read about my 'personal' biz
cuz chances are they already know
I'm just asking for a little privacy
(Ironic, to ask for privacy on a public blog..)
Read it, fine. Laugh, get confused, whatever
If you don't think it's life threatening, don't ask
Don't bring it up with me
If I wanted you to know, I would tell you
Just stop butting in
It's not that important
I have highs and lows
I have a place to express myself
Yet again, I'm stupid
I forgot about prying eyes
Mom, dad,.. if you're still reading this, go away.
Now. leave. Stop pissing me off.
This is not for you.
If you really cared you wouldn't ask
I'm not cutting myself, thinking about suicide, looking at porn,
having sex, doing drugs, doing illegal things, skipping class,
drinking alcohol, or am depressed.
His touch sets me aflame
His hand rests on mine and I don't dare to move it
His leg grazes mine and I tingle inside
..then I turn, and I see you. . . .
laughing with her.
And any feeling towards him disappears
I gulp, and focus on working
But that image is frozen in my head
Every thought of getting over you flies away
I'm not over you
no matter how hard i try
so i just slump into the background
and let my feelings wash away
No one else captures my attention like you do
no one can interest me anymore
you've ruined my appetite
Yet you still laugh along with her, I still don't move my hand
Time goes on and I am silent
words never spoken rush away
and the chance is gone
You wear me down
piece by piece
walking by every time
ignoring every slip
and ripping my heart into shreds methodically
I'm just getting pushed down by you
and i do not understand why
Still rehearsing. They call it training for when we actually start with the script. I'm training my heart to stay calm and not freak out. He never did anything. I just read too much into.... everything. Everything is going to be okay.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Stay calm.
Everything is okay
Breathe in, breathe out
You were tired
it was late
he just had to go help everyone...
you lie to yourself. over and over
so much that you almost believe it
just like you believed your fantasies
you're just another teenage actor
young and vying for his attention
but don't listen to me
lie to yourself
if it keeps you concentrated
breathe in, breathe out
Rehearsal was amazing... as usual
We did a ton of pantomime. We mimed: pushing walls, pulling ropes, walking against wind...
We also learned all these cool foot movements and warm-ups
Performed a few scenes
I love theatre. It's my life
This one guy was helping me.... he was really cute... and then he found out I was 14 and it got all awkward. Because he thought I was 17. He's an amazing actor and I found any excuse to look at him.
I'm not interested... he was just able to teach so much and I couldn't help but smile and get fidgety when I was near him. But it's whatever, of course he's just a teacher. I should have never crossed that line. It just kinda... sucked; you know? (Like having your heart wrenched out)
They pull your heart out
Leave it beating on the ground
Not even caring enough to squash it
or put it back in your chest
lying there, ready to be stepped on or reattached
They do not watch
You watch with a dull look, almost like watching a movie, as your heart bleeds
The carpet has a stain now
It won't be forgotten
But will he remember? What he did, consciously or not?
I hope he'll speak
Maybe look me in the eye?
Instead of moving to another side and assisting someone else
I always thought you had my back in this
I worked hard and you helped me figure every footstep out
What was I thinking
I never should have crossed that line
You should never have ripped out my heart
Neither of us were intentionally hurtful
We're just not perfect.
Chalk us up as misfits
