Author: Amanda N. Young

Bombardment

/ Amanda N. Young / Leave a comment

There are some bombs that cannot be dodged
Do I choose
To take the impact with full force and an open heart
To absorb and yet not be consumed
by all that it brings

All of the fear and the pain
love and comfort
joy of discovery
the hot choking back of an unreleased scream

headaches from holding back tears
and restless sleep and yet
Relief for a break in the routine

The opportunity to look again at life
With renewed intensity
To feel and be felt
To grow and learn and cherish the life that is here
In the moments that we have

The bomb has dropped and imploded
We do not yet know the impact
How the shrapnel will fall

All I can do is choose to live it
Choose to be present
To love as best as I can
To feel, to hope for the best
To strive to be seen
And loved for who I am now

Not Easy

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I have all of these random thoughts
My mind is loose
Spiraling
Going down the rabbit hole
On a journey with no map, no
Chosen destination
Randomly twelve year old me thinks
“Someday, someone is going to want me”
And abruptly
Thirty three year old me starts crying
The quiet part of my mind watches
Detached
Surprised
In exhaustion I feel both the sensations that I am “Okay”
and also horribly sad at the same time
I sit up
The thought spiral is broken as now this one phrase has stuck on repeat like a broken record
And I can’t stop the sadness
Or the longing
Or the wishing
I’m still that 12 year old kid
Hoping that when I grow up
I’ll be attractive to someone
Something will change
There’s still time
To change my life
To start a new phase
To meet new people
There’s still time
For someone to want me

When You Were Here

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When you were here
I could speak without words
When you were here
I could listen without sound
A kiss for hello
A touch for your mine
This is language of our old life

I miss your hands on my neck
And your body on mine
I miss your laugh and your moods
And the way we’d fight

It seems I’ve discovered a new way to cry
I was single before you
But now I’m empty inside

When you were here
I could feel all that you said
Each kiss was a promise
Each touch was a pledge
Tell me I get you
Tell me I’m here
Tell me I’m worth it
I wont disappear

Without you the chorus is humming a lie
The kisses are gone
The touch says goodbye
I wake from a dream
And the pillow is cold
The memory fades
And now I don’t know

Was it all make believe
Was it all in my head
You can blame it on me
We can both fantasize
But did I dream your I love yous
Did I dream all your smiles
Did I dream how you held me
In our old life

When you were here

I could speak without words

Hate is the Demon in the Dark, Creeping in to the Light. Disguised as Safety and Might.

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Hate is the thing that thrives in disguise

Hidden behind righteousness

The cloak is Justice but it’s true face is Vengeance

Hate is the Boogeyman in the closet

The gun that thinks it’s name is protection

Familiarity may be a comfort

But it’s dark side is fear of what we don’t understand

Fear of the other

Bravery is not taking up arms against this other

But opening up our doors and taking a chance

Step outside with me and help me hold the torch

The most dangerous threat to society is not the stranger from outside

It’s the voice within ourselves that wants to build a wall

To guard against the Boogeyman

The other isn’t a demon. Or a thug. She is us. She may speak another language, know another world. She is alien and yet…ours. She is human. Her heart beats like mine. She is flawed like me. Beautiful.

Turn on the light. Open your eyes and our arms and see…

Hate is the thing that makes us harm ourselves.

Liquid Gold, and all the notes of stardust

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My glass holds a little more liquid gold

I was skeptical at first

But came to appreciate it’s value

My heart has been warmed by the joy

Of good music and true emotion

And for now I can ignore the turmoil

Forget the fear

The music and the gold have pushed

until tomorrow

Th weight of reasonability that brings me to tears

Tomorrow I will be fat and out of shape

Tomorrow I will be broke and in debt

Tomorrow I will still be a child in my father’s eyes; incapable, broken- unsafe

Tomorrow- I will still be myself, all of me

And tonight, the same

In this moment

The gold is in my viens

And I’m lucky to be alive

I have learned to appreciate the good moments as they come

And build up resiliency against the bad

To learn from both

To be here

Today

Full of gold

Full of music

Each note is beautiful

Each Harmony, chord, and echo

A heartbeat

A caress

A joy

The world is alive and dying around me

And this somehow is love

And Somehow I am made of stardust again

And I can see a horizon

I can see a shore

I can reach for the person I once was

Full of Hope and dreams once more

The poem “The Secret”

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I wrote a poem once

About the secret

How we find it and lose it

How we could learn from it

Not take it for granted

At least

I think so

I lost the poem

But I’m always trying to remember it

I know it was important

I know that my 11 year old self

Had an insight into the world that was keen

A sharp mind, open and insightful and pure

I hope I find the poem again

Though it’s likely hopeles

One random college ruled paper with scribbles

Like hundreds of others

Lost among junk and life and forgotten detritus

That is the garage of my childhood

Maybe someday I’ll find it again

The secret

to life

to friendship

to love

The secret

To whatever it was

A whisper of clarity in the fog

A moment of meaning

“I know the answer!” I shall shout

And when it goes again

Maybe I”ll smile

And forever I’ll either search again

for that glimmer of clarity

Or be content to know I knew once

What I needed to know

I kept the gummy bears

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Are there stale gummy bears where you go?

Made Pink and Gold with Dom Perignon

And filled with memories and ghosts of love long gone

 

Are there bubbles of champagne

Made of late nights

And filled with laughter and bad white boy dance moves

Unpaid tabs and Spanish better left unsaid

 

Is there the moon where you go

Not the everywhere moon,

But that Moon that feels like cold nights

a world locked in darkness, blanketed in

snow and ice

The moon that looks in on you as you snuggle in bed,

wide awake when you should be sleeping

Because there is someone who wants to talk to you from far away, keeping you awake

 

Are there bars with Hitachino on tap

Made with dirty poker tables and an awkward DJ booth

Filled with the sound of skateboard wheels on a

cramped wooden ramp, the ATM in the hall,

the smell of sweat and bad choices, punk rock

memories and too much -ness. #Brooklyn

 

Are there perfect days

Warm days

Walking all over

Being together

“Market Research”

We called it

And us

 

Is there an us where you’re going?

Is there this history we’ve made

The memories and the metaphorical house we’ve built

That makes our relationship real

It’s ups and downs and fights and

Everytime we came out stronger in the end

 

When you leave me holding this bag of things

Made of us

Do I throw it away too?

 

 

Wish

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Dreams have come and gone

Some goals reached some not

Most bigger and more important than

Romance- and yet

I’m driving through tunnels again

And holding my breath

I want to be enough to be loved

When the light begins I breathe

And try to shake it off

And to think of the goals that I will meet

Of the dreams I’ve yet to have