Write Away

What's happening in the Seacoast for and by teens.

The Beginning of the Story

Thud, thud, thud.  Heavy feet on the stairs.” –A Crack in the Line by Micheal Lawerence

     They’re going to find me.  I know they will.  They always do.  I don’t understand how it’s possible.  I can’t hide from them.  They’re coming.  Their feet pound down the hallway.  They’re getting closer.  I press myself farther into the corner. I stay as silent as I can.  No one should be able to find me.  But they can.  They always can.  The sound of my heartbeat must give me away.  That must be how they find me.  I try desperately to slow my heart but it refuses to stop screaming.

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Just A Hand ~A Poem, by Catherine Geiger

I am empty
and it eats me
I hear music
faintly
calling for me
strings that creak and ache
so stuck with age
needing resin
like oil
that they may sing again.
I hear them
and they are so beautiful.

pearls form in my eyes
drip down my cheeks
astral packages of emotion
and all that is inexpressible.

the lonely god sighs
a
long
slow sigh
so tired
so tired.

he has been empty for so long
like I have been empty.
he hears tender keys
tapping pity
and damp thoughts
and numbness.
a melancholia of the most beautiful stars.

our fingers interlock
mine and the lonely god’s
and our songs blend
in a slightly less lonely confectionary
of the most emotional notes
of violins and piano.

today, the lonely god
is slightly less lonely.
today
he has a hand to hold
and so do I

but tomorrow
I do not know
if I will be there
to hold the hand of this poor
lonely god
and more pearls drip from my eyes
as the music drips away
like water from icicles in spring.

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