What do you fear?
At 9 I would say spiders, scary movies, and car crashes. I would say, I don’t want to die like Uncle John did.
At 11 I would say that girl from The Ring, having no friends, and getting in trouble. I would say, I don’t like being alone.
At 13 I would say birth control pills, therapists, and socializing. I would say, am I really psychotic like they say? What’s wrong with me?
At 15 I would say closets, sharks, and fists. I would say, he’s still in the closet don’t open it don’t fucking open it, please, he’s in there. I would say, I wouldn’t say anything. I would only flinch.
At 16 I would say men, love, and my body. I would say, I don’t know how to say no anymore, because what does that even mean anyway? I would say, nothing matters anymore.
At 17 I would say the truth, people, and scrubs. I would say, I don’t think any of the meds are working. I would say, there’s nobody to trust anymore.
At 18 I would say men, fists, and myself. I would say, there’s nobody to trust anymore, not even myself. I would say, chop me up another line.
Today I would say life, love, and drugs. I would say, those three words are the same.
About the Creator
Sophia Maciel
I'm just an aspiring writer that likes to write slam poetry, but is too anxious to get on a stage and speak it.
Keep reading
More stories from Sophia Maciel and writers in Poets and other communities.
A Crack in Space
In my college English class, we had to write an essay on an essay written by Wells Tower titled "Who Wants to Shoot an Elephant?" It’s about people hunting elephants, and trying to come up with ways to justify killing them. In the end, the author concludes that he does not know what the right answer is, to kill or not to kill. Now let’s put aside the reasons they listed for killing them, like how they are destroying the environment by tearing down trees. At the end of the day, these hunters were killing for pleasure, not to make the world a better place. Here’s a quote from Wells Tower, “When an elephant keels over, its friends sometimes break their tusks trying to get it to stand up again. They bury their dead. They bear grudges against people who’ve hurt them, and sometimes go on revenge campaigns. They cry.” These graceful, humanlike animals are roaming the Earth, and there are people that brag about knowing where to put the bullet. But I’m not surprised. I mean, we kill humans, right? We kill our own kind. So of course we will kill something that reminds us of ourselves. The best of all, they take pictures with their trophies, smiling like they were just reunited with an old friend. How weird would it be if we went to funerals and took a selfie with the dead body in the casket? Now what about showing up to the funeral of the person we murdered and taking a picture with them in their casket? “Oh man, instagram is gonna get a kick out of this.”
By Sophia Maciel6 years ago in Poets
Hall of mirrors
Things used to matter, before all the noise. And at that time when things still had meaning, there had been dreaming too, when dreams still mattered. And the brightest dream from those times was full of mountains and seas and smiles and the types of passion that absorbs you the way a dog is absorbed by witnessing something for the first time: with absolute presence, and awe.
By Giulia Viti2 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.