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Why, we have no work posted =0

So, I'll post a poem. Since I tend to not write uhm...non-dark poems...or anything for that matter, I've taken my time picking which to post,  because of the 'rules' of  not posting anything you wouldn't show to a teenager. I'm assuming we mean normal teenagers, not like, what I was...when I wrote 90% of this stuff lol. So, I'll post something that is kinda neutral, totally me, and easy to critique. Bear with me and the fact I am bad at making posts.


Band-aid (Breaking A Rule)

My stomach's turning
My forehead's sweating
The hairs on the back
      of my neck are pricking

My mouth is dry
My tongue's too big
I can't get the words
      to fit past my lips

You're all staring at me, patiently waiting
The air has gone still and the fear's not abating
I'm shifting nervously from one foot to the other
I don't know how the news will blow over

Maybe I'm foolish
Maybe it's too late
Maybe I shouldn't do this
      face to face

I suppose it's stupid
I don't know how you'll react
I'm just so afraid
     you'll all turn your back

You're still watching me as I mumble an apology
I'm starting to wonder what came over me
Since thirteen I've never felt safe in my skin
But what makes me so afraid of my kin?

I remember my childhood
All the scrapes and the cuts
Stinging alcohol cleaning
      out all the dust

All those stupid band-aids
They stuck straight to the skin
You jerk them off quickly
      and the pain's over then

But this band-aid is sticky and I don't have the strength
So I'll peal it off slowly, length by length
And what if you're the dirt that will irritate this wound?
What if I'm taking off the band-aid too soon?

I've stood here too long
I look like a fool
I've broken the 'taking off
      the band-aid' rule

I'll simply leave you to ponder
While I clumsily dodge it
I've never felt safer
      here in my closet

Now, bad as it is, we can say we have some writing posted.


The Omaha Writers League

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