Figured Out

This is my first attempt at writing a slam poem. It's not very good, but it's a start.

One: I lived everyday with a razor blade to my arm and a gun to my head. You'll get over it, they said. So I did.

Two: On a summer night, I met a boy who lit fires in my heart and put stars in my sky. We kissed behind a tree and I felt like a dropped match on a wood floor, filled with flame and intent to burn out.

Three: He left and suddenly I fell back into old habits as if they had been in my back pocket the whole time waiting for me to reach for them once again. Familiar yet not my friend.

Four: I made it through senior year.  I walked across the stage with a smile upon my lips because damn it was finally over.

Five: I left town with a suitcase and a dream, headed for a city filled with life and love and danger.

Six: I never left.

Seven: I met her in the library. I fell in love with her scarlet hair and doc martens she refused to stop wearing even though they had holes where the toes should have been. She thought I was dumb for loving her but she didn't understand that she was the first thing in a long time that made me not feel small. That made my heart jump to my head and then feet and back again every time I said her name. That made me fling into the unknown because I knew she'd be there to catch me if I didn't fly. That made me whisper her body into everything and everyone I knew because I didn't want to forget her. I couldn't forget her. That made me see the light in my eyes and I wasn't afraid of the dark anymore. I wasn't afraid. How could loving her be dumb?

Eight: I drank myself to sleep. She said she had different life goals and that I should try to find mine. The only thing I found in her absence was that drinking a bottle of vodka wouldn't erase the memory of her skin against mine.

Nine: I got a job in a book store. Books reminded me of her. I found her lips in every curve of every word and her skin in every spin of every book I held. I quit within two weeks.

Ten: I'm still trying to figure it out.

Reviews

[I Am Svetlana]

Life is often complicated, but life is the journey in trying to figure out who we are and what we're meant for. We will be lifted up, then fall, but it's all about getting up and moving forward. I still don't know what I want to do with my life and I'm 23. Everyone around me, friends and my siblings, already know what they want to be and are going through college achieving their life goals. I often feel ashamed, but I am always comforted by the fact that I still have writing. It is something that will always keep me moving forward. Writing and books.