In my heart of hearts, I have always been a writer. Growing up and on the internet way too early, I stumbled upon roleplaying forums where I would create my own character, or 'OC', and exchange replies back and forth between strangers who were writing on behalf of their own OC or a character from an existing media. My characters ranged from Hogwarts students to Pokémon trainers to badass necromancing vampires. These years were crucial for my growth as a person and as a writer and I've made lifelong friends through it.
In my more recent teenage years, I wrote poetry as a vessel for my anger, love for other women, and the heartbreak that came with that love. I've hidden that poetry for the longest time, only taking it out to show potential love interests (who tended to assume it was about them, which was awkward) or to make fun of (senseless cruelty to my younger self). Looking back, I've always been proud of it, only fearful of the vulnerability that sharing poetry came with. In an attempt to be more vulnerable as well as kinder to the soulful, teenage Finn who wrote this poetry, I'm compiling that poetry along with the date and age I was when I wrote it below. I have not done any editing and I have no idea if any of them are in their "complete" forms (but is a poem ever really finished?).
November 21, 2018 (age 16)
fire flame volatile
burns indiscriminately;
the same hearth that roars
in my chest burns down bridges
at the drop of a tone
i boast of my triumphs
"she did this, she said that"
but i wasn't the one being attacked
i was the flame that burnt down cities
anger courses through my veins
like tears stain fevered cheeks
November 22, 2018
jealousy
is not a shade of green
but it is white
as white as the whites of their eyes
aim your musket and fire
don't believe it when you see it
envy hides behind whispers of
"i'm better than that"
truth is - you're not
you're as human as your ancestors before you
you are not made of your intentions
but you are made of your actions
jealousy is bright bright white
sneaks up and slides in like a ghost
perches itself on your shoulder and draws comparisons without introducing itself
"you're not as talented - you'll never be"
plants the seed of doubt deep in the soil of your heart
December 6, 2018
do you ever long for something
that your heart has never felt?
the soft plucking of guitar strings
the long waving vines coming down
a weeping willow tree
someone's arms around you
heart purring with content
just you, her, and the universe
closed eyes and the hum of
the razor against your neck
drops of dysphoria falling from
your head
hands over your eyes
delighted giggles all around
the cold breeze of rain to come
content fills your lungs with
every breath
January 19, 2019
metronome ticking
in your chest
cruel waves of teal
crashing against your legs
closed doors closed windows
no light that you can see
you're trapped; you always will be
not worthy of anything
childlike ; never as mature as your peers
always one step behind
unease creeping in your brain
always in the corner like a
misshapen laundry pile backlit
January 20, 2019
chapped lips
clinging to their faith
fingers roll over wooden beads
mouth forming mysteries
hailing holy women
begging for forgiveness
pleading for help
February 14, 2019
icarus flying too close to the sun
reaching out, their fingertips
just barely brushing sun rays
their wax wings fail them
and send them careening to the ground
they fall, tumble through the forest canopy
they crash into the soft moss
their ribs crackle like glow sticks
gasping for breath where there is none
forest nymph comes to their rescue
kind smile, pink lips blossoming
she plants ciolets where their heart belonged
she doesn't fix them
but she helps them heal
December 5, 2019 (age 17)
you're still on my mind
when i'm thinking about
the hole in my heart
heart is still for what
it used to beat for
butterflies in the stomach
have migrated for the winter
my hands twitch to touch you
only to remember that
you would move away
my baby my baby my baby
isn't my baby no more
fire keeps you warm but not
when it's your bridges burning
September 30, 2020
shred yourself open
pick out the pieces that are
palatable and taste good
ground them into dust and
bury them beneath the earth
give your soul to someone who
deserves it more than you do
someone who is more resourceful
and can create greater good
than you ever could have
bleed yourself out
let your eyes flood with built up
anger and exhaust yourself
let gasps wreck through you like
a karate chop through a ghost
October 18, 2020
this poem isnt for you
it isnt about you
it isnt because of you
October 20, 2020
your eyes are stinging
tired of crying
you're tired of gasping for air
maybe it's the sickness
maybe it's the weather
maybe it's just because you're nearing the end
everyone tells you you can do it
but you know you can't, you've tried before
"that's defeatist language"
October 25, 2020
that first kiss
was after your concert
i felt so weird around your family
you brought me to that hallway
and leaned down and scared me
it wasn't the last time
it wasn't the worst
i thought you were so much
more mature
that second first kiss
we had planned all morning
met before school in the cafe
sat on the same side of the booth
wish we hadn't tried so hard
spent all day cursing myself
your parents hated me too
if i could have taken it back i would have
that third first kiss
in front of my door,
just drove home
from playing arcade games
caught it on camera
so quick, didn't feel it
didn't process before
you walked away
i dont say i've had my first kiss
they were:
all planned
all weird
all too quick for me to think
its better this way
maybe my next first kiss
won't be over in a blink
May 21, 2021 (age 18)
I am from the tall grass
Playing pretend fairies
Dancing in the dewdrops
Tulip skirt swirled around
I am from shaking fists
Wrapped around rosaries
Pleading to God for a calming hand
I am from wide branches
The tangled roots of a family tree
Cousin, aunt, uncle, whoever you are
Doesn't matter to me
I am from broken hearts
Biting back 'I love you's and holding back touch
Deleting playlists after two weeks
Crushing hopes just to let them rise again
I am from jealous stares
Quick scan, up and down, pick apart the pieces
Seeking any foothold to be better than them
I am from thick, wired lenses
A gap between teeth, round arms
Shaped as a child should be yet
Always feeling too large
I am from tears falling onto a screen
Tapping my emotions into a Notes app
Hiding away poems to be rediscovered and displayed
On a sunnier day
November 20, 2021 (age 19)
you somehow convince yourself
that all of your friends are in love with you
you lay in bed and place your hand on your cheek
soft strokes of your thumb
wonder how it would feel if that warmth wasn’t your own
you’ve gotten close to love but never quite reached it
you wonder if you would be able to recognize it in the street