I really enjoy looking back on and sharing old poems and stories that I wrote when I was a kiddo. I'd love to travel back in time and tell myself that I appreciate that awkward and nerdy younger version of me…who apparently had a real flare for the dramatic. I encourage you to look back on your childhood self as well, and celebrate how cool/uncool, creative, and fun you were. Here's a darkly romantic poem for a cloudy Valentine's Day mood, courtesy of 13-year-old me:
His manner was peculiar to me.
I passed him on the street many nights,
Into his eyes I could not see.
His steps were long and without direction,
But followed a rhythm of some intention.
His breath lingered on the cold night air,
Like many banshees dancing about the Devil’s lair.
I passed him near the cemetery
Along its rusting gates,
Where perhaps a lonely vampire
There was a lustful grace about him
That as he passed caused me to shudder.
And I wondered if his heart
Was in possession of some other.
As we met more and more
In the same fashion each night,
For me to call him “stranger”
I wanted to speak to him one evening,
By the old graveyard.
But when I opened up my mouth,
I found speaking hard.
I longed to say something wise,
And delve into his mind.
But when I looked into his eyes,
He looked right down into mine.
And startled by their beauty
Unnerved but somehow touched
By their cool, demanding glare.
His lips were pursed in thought,
And I felt the urge to flee.
But instead I smiled up at him,
He was quite an elegant creature
Taken in by the night,
And I was still a little bit afraid
I managed a “Good evening,”
And watched his chest rise and fall.
To him I must have seemed so strange,
Compared to him so small.
He replied with a certain ease.
And with so much I still wished to say,
He vanished on the breeze.