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9th grade poetry for school

just something i wrote for an assignment in 9th grade English. also if you recognize the mitski quote hidden in the poem don't tell my school I plagiarized pretty please i. I am to be born anew in ten days.  I can feel it In my skin. It pulses under the flesh Like a river, rushing through my veins. A change is fast approaching and I am not strong enough to withstand it. ii. I am too vulnerable, too fragile to change. I am one to be crushed under a boot, I cannot endure this change that will come in 9 days' time.  I am afraid. Afraid. iii. My mother changed only weeks ago. She is as young as I soon will be. Her children, my siblings, are many. I am one in one thousand and I will be lost in a haze of orange when we change. It will be brilliant, it will be, Fleeting. Our beauty will last only seconds in the eyes of those who look upon us. Mother, I am to be young again.  Mother, were you scared? Were you scared mother? I am scared of the change to come. iv. My hunger grows with each passing day, as does my fear. Some of my siblings have already started to settle. They seek out the places closer to the sky, as if, even in this life before the next, they long to be weightless, held only by the cold wind that I feel on my back.  They do not seem afraid, as I am. They turn their heads to the sky, facing down the wide expanse of blue like the ant faces a hurricane. They do not cower, only waiting for the change they know is coming. They are resilient in ways I am not. I am not, I am not, I am not. Please, I am not them, please, I cannot withstand this. I am afraid, do you hear?  I, who make no sound, am screaming I am afraid of the change to come. v. Today, I reflect. My life, as short as it is, is coming to an end. In five days, I will become someone else. In five days, I am to live a new life in a new body.  Mother, you are dying soon. Soon, my new body will replace yours in the kaleidoscope. Soon, mother, soon. I do not want to leave the ground, I do not want to take flight like I am intended to. Mother, soon, too soon.  vi. I have begun the change.  Soon, mother. Soon. ix. This barrier between me and my new world has begun to crack. I push at the walls of my chrysalis with new arms, new legs. This new body has not seen the outside world but it is unafraid. How? How did something so sensitive become a rock in a river? I had thought, before my new mind settled in my head, that my fear would remain.  Even if my body had changed, my mind would remain. But it has not, and I am just like my siblings. Their resilience which I had only witnessed when I had looked into their dark eyes, and seen the look on their faces, has become mine.  Oh mother, is this how you felt? Was I wrong to ask if you were afraid? You were, weren’t you? Just like me, my mother, like me. And like me you weathered your storm, you were born anew and unafraid. i. I am different. I feel it, in a way unlike any other. My body has changed but my mind as well. Before, I was guided by the will to survive. Before, I was not looking to the skies because there was nothing in them for me to look at, but now, now my weary head turns to the sky as almost second nature. It calls to me, to my newborn wings and my young resolve to conquer it.  I am finally living. Mother, is this what you felt like? Did you live as well? This change, this change, I am alive, for the first time, I live.   Oh, mother, I am not afraid. I will face the skies,         Unafraid.        And the wind will push my frail body   but I will not fall, no,         These new wings,  they will take flight and I will rise, Do you hear? Mother? I will rise, just like you.  I am born anew.

@salmune

May 13, 2024

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Bambi, a life in the woods — felix salten

I read it in first grade and it accelerated the development of a profound sense of consciousness and independent thinking and fortified my existing love for animals/nature/the environment. I was already an overly existential child and it helped me learn to focus on beauty and joy in the face of death and suffering! — The leaves were falling from the great oak at the meadow's edge. They were falling from all the trees. One branch of the oak reached high above the others and stretched far out over the meadow. Two leaves clung to its very tip. "It isn't the way it used to be," said one leaf to the other. "No," the other leaf answered. "So many of us have fallen off tonight we're almost the only ones left on our branch." "You never know who's going to go next," said the first leaf. "Even when it was warm and the sun shone, a storm or a cloudburst would come sometimes, and many leaves were torn off, though they were still young. You never know who's going to go next." "The sun seldom shines now," sighed the second leaf, "and when it does it gives no warmth. We must have warmth again." "Can it be true," said the first leaf, "can it really be true, that others come to take our places when we're gone and after them still others, and more and more?" "It is really true," whispered the second leaf. "We can't even begin to imagine it, it's beyond our powers." "It makes me very sad," added the first leaf. They were silent a while. Then the first leaf said quietly to herself, "Why must we fall? ..." The second leaf asked, "What happens to us when we have fallen?" "We sink down. ..." "What is under us?" The first leaf answered, "I don't know, some say one thing, some another, but nobody knows." The second leaf asked, "Do we feel anything, do we know anything about ourselves when we're down there?" The first leaf answered, "Who knows? Not one of all those down there has ever come back to tell us about it." They were silent again. Then the first leaf said tenderly to the other, "Don't worry so much about it, you're trembling." "That's nothing," the second leaf answered, "I tremble at the least thing now. I don't feel so sure of my hold as I used to." "Let's not talk any more about such things," said the first leaf. The other replied, "No, we'll let be. But—what else shall we talk about?" She was silent, but went on after a little while. "Which of us will go first?" "There's still plenty of time to worry about that," the other leaf assured her. "Let's remember how beautiful it was, how wonderful, when the sun came out and shone so warmly that we thought we'd burst with life. Do you remember? And the morning dew, and the mild and splendid things..." "Now the nights are dreadful," the second leaf complained, "and there is no end to them." "We shouldn't complain," said the first leaf gently. "We've outlived many, many others." "Have I changed much?" asked the second leaf shyly but determinedly. "Not in the least," the first leaf assured her. "You only think so because I've got to be so yellow and ugly. But it's different in your case." "You're fooling me," the second leaf said. "No, really," the first leaf exclaimed eagerly, "believe me, you're as lovely as the day you were born. Here and there may be a little yellow spot but it's hardly noticeable and only makes you handsomer, believe me." "Thanks," whispered the second leaf, quite touched. "I don't believe you, not altogether, but I thank you because you're so kind, you've always been so kind to me. I'm just beginning to understand how kind you are." "Hush," said the other leaf, and kept silent herself for she was too troubled to talk any more. Then they were both silent. Hours passed. A moist wind blew, cold and hostile, through the treetops. "Ah, now," said the second leaf, "I..." Then her voice broke off. She was torn from her place and spun down.  Winter had come.

@taterhole

Sep 8, 2024

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night thinking

I buried- in silence -in the back yard -a thing in the night -deer trodding behind the tree line airplane light rolling down the cheek of the dome- it had to be done alone no matter how many times you asked what was growing here I couldn’t speak its name- and you couldn’t hold the reigns of a certainty that is not yours to keep -here is my mind, the living, the executor, the backdoor frightened child staring off wandering for the holder -here is the order of the sphinx, the cataloged diagnosis of the ordinary wheel -here is the lackadaisical assistances that you ordered: “bury the hatchet that dug the hole. take the sword of your desires and throw it at the heap. there is a lump forming that must be seared. the stitches to be unraveled are trying to leach into the skin from which they are formed. you must open the earth or be dissolved yourself”

@turnerpgreens

Feb 25, 2025

Top Recs from @annaispunk

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letting grief stay awhile/feeling your feelings

my dad died when i was young. today is his birthday, he would’ve been 64. this day usually passes as normal, but this year i’m feeling particularly sad, and i am trying to feel those feelings fully instead of numbing them

@annaispunk

Jul 1, 2024

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the bell jar by sylvia plath

i just finished down the drain by julia fox today too!! also you are going to LOVE my brilliant friend/the neapolitan quartet!!!! my favorite books fr

@annaispunk

Jul 17, 2024

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i need to carry my whole life with me in my bag

my everyday bag is a large baggu crescent bag, and it is the love of my life. i have a variety of pins on display that say, “help the police-beat yourself up!”, “mean lesbian”, and “the moral panic is about ME!!!” i keep my wallet and coin-purse in the one little inside-pocket, along with lip balm/gloss, airpods AND wired earbuds, pencils/pens, lighters, my trusty bus pass, and an unlimited use kiss coupon from my partner. in the main part of the bag i have a smaller bag full of stimming toys and communication cards (and gum and more lip gloss). i also have a taser, one reusable bag (just in case!), my journal (i’ve been trying to keep a commonplace book), my kobo libra color, my vape, a few joints in a cute kitten cigarette case, and a pack of american spirits (the teal ones are superior). not pictured: owala water bottle and any given crochet project

@annaispunk

Sep 4, 2024