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About Literature / Artist Member Grae MatternFemale/United States Recent Activity
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sometimes, you meet people who are storms
in bottles, who are ships cast away on rocky
coastlines, contained in a mason jar. sometimes
you meet volcanoes in human skin, earthquakes
with a laugh that sounds like skipping rocks
on summer colored lakes. sometimes, you meet
people who are whirlwinds wrapped up in muscle and bone,
who are more miracle than mistake.

i think about that a lot when i look at her.
to be fair, she is nothing more than me and you
but she has a hurricane brewing in her eyes
and dandelions growing through the cracks
in her sidewalks and i think that’s wondrous
enough.

i know our lungs are the same—on mondays
and thursdays, we both find it hard to keep
breathing and sometimes if i listen hard enough
i think i can hear the storms battering her shoreline,
but you could never tell with the way she smiles.

don’t tell her, but she smiles like the sun.
she smiles crooked, like baby teeth and morals
and the first time you try to hang up a sign.
god, she smiles and it’s like spring, like discovery
and adventure and hope all rolled into one,
like new and used, reliable and durable.

the thing is, i don’t know if she’s ever felt like she belongs
in the places she’s travelled and with the people
she’s met, but i hope she feels like puzzle pieces
clicking together every time she steps foot here.
i hope on days she feels a dickinson-worthy
headache, or a shakespearian storm rocking her foundations,
she is not able to count on two hands the number
of people she can lean against.

lean against us. him, her, me too.
this is your home now, and we will
risk your lightning and your rain for the sake
of your sun.
Michaela
(on request)
(m: heres a shitty poem but hey you wanted a people on paper poem so i bent the rules and wrote you one. you'll find it when you find it. until then.)

(further note because i have had a question about this--anything you request i will try my level best to complete, even if the final product isn't what you thought it would be.)

love you guys, stay dry in these spring thunderstorms. fourteen more days for the seniors at my high school. 4 more ap tests before my freedom.
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1. i still leave all the doors in my house open.
there’s not that many anyway, but i can’t bear
to hear them shut anymore. the draft is
killing me—i don’t remember the last
time i felt warm.

2. if time stopped when i was with you,
it is making up those seconds now because
i blink and the tea is no longer steaming
and it is no longer night and i am still
writing this poem, trying to convince myself
that i am not waiting for you to call.

3. surely the butterflies i got when i first
saw you created hurricanes on the other side of
the world. whenever it rains, i still think of you.

4. my keyboard is growing anxious. i keep typing
out the same letters, but i never hit send. the tea
has probably grown cold by now. it is, probably,
time to delete your number.

5. tonight, i close my bedroom door by accident.
the click is so loud that i think the whole world can hear it.
i think that they all stop for a couple of
seconds, listening to that resounding finality bang
off the walls in their heads, even if
they don’t understand it.
somewhere, some place, you begin to miss me.
cauterize
a double hitter--this poem is a sequel/companion piece to the poem i posted yesterday, "five steps to stitching together a wound that never bled". so lots of the same imagery is used (for example, butterflies, the word 'finality' and then the 5 numbered stanzas)

i like the idea that break ups are, you know, two-sided. like, idk whats that Script song? "Breakeven"? break ups and emotional situations are never just 'he broke up with me and im wounded forever'. the guy always has a reason, an excuse, a story. like, people are hardly ever dicks just to be dicks. this doesn't make sense.

i think it's very common in our society to hear about a break up and focus on the most interesting side of the story. we relate more to the girl/boy/non-gendered individual who cries and says things like, 'i've been left here to die, they were the light of my life, i can't breathe without them', etc. etc. that's interesting. we want to hear more of that. so that's what this poem is about. the narrator of this poem is the one who kind of got the short of the stick with the relationship. he/she/they still loves the person who left them, and so it kind of follows his/her/their recovery and moving on. it's painful, but (cleverly slipping in the meaning of the titles lol) the wound gets cauterized (burning the skin or flesh of a wound to stop bleeding, btw) and the person, you know, ends up being alright.

on the kind of flip side of that coin, "five steps to stitching together a wound that never bled", the narrator just kind of wakes up one day and is like 'oh man i don't love that person anymore'. and that's not something we really focus on in literature or even in life. in that poem, the kid's moved on before he/she/they even realize they've moved on.

so lol yeah, paired poems wow look at me growing up and trying to think of a reason to give you another numbered poem lol

(ps it's the opening night of my friends' play so wish em luck)
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1. i fall out of love with you on a tuesday.
to be honest, i don’t know it’s happening until
it’s happened, until i sit in my bed that night
and look at the neat holes you’ve left
dotting my life. weeks ago, i gave you back
your jacket when the weather
turned warm enough that i wasn’t smoking
with every breath. the space it took up
on my desk chair remains emptied, but

i am sure it will be filled again soon,
with piles of books i will never lend you
and poems you will never hear me speak,
that aren’t about you, that use words i’ve never
told you, like ‘vitriol’ and ‘bubbly’.

2. loving you was consuming, was every two in
the morning we lived through. it was giggles
and groans and side looks and honesty
so hot it burned when i touched it for too long.

3. that night, i try to quantify what i have lost
but i can’t. it feels less like ripping and more like
melting; i realize i have written my last love poem
for you weeks ago, without even noticing its finality.

4. on a tuesday, i fall out of love with you.
there are no angel choirs. there are no sonnets.
mountains are not moved. lovers do not kiss.
i fall out of love with you and i think, ‘oh.’

5. on wednesday i see you again. you smile
at me the same way you always do
and in my stomach, butterflies burst
into bloom out of reflex, but when
i hear your name, all i think about are letters.
the five steps of stitching together a wound
full title (damn these character limitations): five steps of stitching together a wound that never bled

yoooo
i feel like i start every one of these with an apology for my long absence. but hey man if you ever want to chat or talk or whatev, i got a tumblr i use regularly--username, tennessoui. love for y'all to drop by, make sure i'm still alive, etc. etc.

anyways, i couldn't think of a title for this one at all. like. it's been written and in my 'to post' folder, but i haven't been able to think of a clever title so it was there for a while. enjoy!

one more day till the weekend, guys. until then, here's a joke (can be found by googling 'good jokes that will make people laugh'). what kind of shoes do ninjas wear? sneakers lol im great love me pls
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a long stretch of highway.
night, glittering against the road reflectors.
overhead, a plane roars to meet us.
he leans over to me. “want to race it?” he asks
and the girl in the front seat steps on the gas,
propelling us forward and forward
into the reaching blackness.

a plane eats miles like it’s a man just released off of a diet
and presented with a free buffet.
comparatively, a car eats them like a starving man
just given with a banquet but can only
stomach a leaf. there’s no chance we could possibly
outpace this plane. we cheer anyway.
we cheer not because we think we can win,
but because for a moment it feels like we can.

for a moment it is me and him and her and a
steering wheel and her and him and a destination
only half formed and an empty field and a thousand
stars in the sky and for a moment we’re
spinning faster than any of them, we’re flying too,
we’re balls of energy and light and heat, me
and him and her and him and him and her and him and me
and we will live for thousands more years.

the plane curves out of sight, looking hungrily
for its next city. slowly the girl in the front seat
edges off the gas pedal. slowly we slow down on
the same empty field we began in.
slowly, the night kisses us goodbye as
we keep steady towards the rising sun.
for every road trip, past present and future
appropriately written on a plane ride. so airplane poetry guys!!! man i love airplane poetry, it needs to be a genre of poetry i could definitely get behind that. sorry ive been gone for a solid week. my spring break is now officially over and im so sad and im already so so so tired, you know? like on the plane ride back home, the last hour was spent just thinking about how tired i was and thinking about AP tests and all this shit that i didn't have to worry about for a week and i didn't even notice i was better until i was worse again and i just really really really hate school, you know? just. i hate school a lot. i just hate pressure and i hate stress and i definitely wasn't missing this shit.

two more months. two more months.

(about this poem specifically: i wasn't really aiming for grammar and structure and a clear storyline and good sounding words. i was aiming for more of a visceral emotion, for the reader to be able to feel the moment and think they lived it. hopefully one day we'll all have moments like this one)

(love you, babes. have a great day tomorrow. drama that is not your drama is definitely not your drama. you have other drama to worry about, dont start on other peoples drama just yet. we're taking this stuff one step at a time.)

(two more months. two more months.)
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you guys give me a Daily Deviation??? I love you all so so much. I mean, seriously, seriously thank you. Every single one of you is amazing and perfect and just wow okay I'm still wow'ing.

And it's more than just a DD, you know, like, I'm super touched and flattered and all these other adjectives on the response "welcome to the real world" got. I loved reading your comments about how you perceive the real world and what you were afraid of when you were graduating college/high school.

Which is another thing. I can't even begin to describe how amazing comments like, 'I just graduated high school and I think I needed to read this' or 'Just finished college, this helped me so much'. Good. Thank god, because that's what I wanted that poem to do to you. I wanted people to read it and feel, well, maybe not helped, but at least not so alone. My oldest sister graduates college in June, and today is my other sister's high school graduation and today was the last exam of my sophomore year of high school, so we're all another step into having no idea what we're going to do later and I know it scares me and it probably scares them, too.

So I'm just really glad that people read this poem and liked it, or even if they read it and hated it, or read it and messaged me all the ways that I'm an ignorant, privileged sixteen year old. This is true. But like I said earlier, I wrote "welcome to the real world" so people could read it and feel like they're aren't the only ones facing these problems. Cause sure, from what I've seen the Real World sucks and it's awful and yeah, there's little bits of 'this is great' but it's mostly twenty-somethings wishing they were preteens again. And it would doubtlessly be better if no one thought they were the only ones going through the same adjustments.

I got off all track--I just really wanted to say that after the week of exams I've had and Ending Of The Year blues, this was amazing. Thank you so much. I'm still smiling.

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MisfitableGrae's Profile Picture
MisfitableGrae
Grae Mattern
Artist | Literature
United States
I hate talking about myself for any length of time. My favorite part of the summer is the fireflies. My mother doesn't understand why I like the rain so much, but let's just put that on the ever-growing list of things my mother doesn't understand about me. I don't know what to do about that. I do this weird thing where I don't reply to comments and don't tell everyone that follows me that I love them but I love them and on Bad Days, I reread the comments and look at my watchers and I smile and fall a little bit more in love with humanity in general. I'm allergic to every nut but peanuts. I am a horrible human being. But some days I can convince myself that that doesn't necessarily mean I'm not a good person.
-Grae
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:iconsilverinkblot:
SilverInkblot Featured By Owner Feb 23, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for collecting Bibliophilia :)
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AeronDust Featured By Owner Feb 18, 2015
I could start a collection just on all the things you've written because I've loved everyone of the things I've read so far.
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Psychia98 Featured By Owner Feb 18, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Oh my goodness, you added one of my poems to your favourites? I'm utterly flattered..!
Thank you; this means such a lot to me :)
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InterrogateMe Featured By Owner Feb 17, 2015   Writer
I just wanted to tell you that you inspire me in unimaginable ways, your mind is absolutely beautiful. Keep writing, sweetie. :heart:
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:iconmisfitablegrae:
MisfitableGrae Featured By Owner Feb 17, 2015   Writer
oh man thank you so, so unbelievably much. you're absolutely amazing.

and also, i love andrea gibson's poetry, "a letter to the playground bully" is one of my all-time favorites from her. C: used to have about five of her poems memorized just in case there ever came an opportunity to recite her work. "class" was pretty cool, too.
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:iconinterrogateme:
InterrogateMe Featured By Owner Feb 18, 2015   Writer
Oh, of course! And thank you!

Aww, that's really cute! I didn't know of her until about a year ago when a friend of mine took me to see her perform, she's been my idol ever since. c:
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That1PersonYouForgot Featured By Owner Feb 7, 2015  Hobbyist Writer

Hey, thanks for joining :iconshortandsweetpoetry:ShortAndSweetPoetry! We're glad to have you with us. Please be sure to submit any and all short poetry you write and/or come across, into the right folders of course~ Wink/Razz

If you have any questions, feel free to contact me or any of the other admins, DropDeadKrislynAmarantheansSharkitty, and AmethystVixen. We also have a donation account for the group at :iconsspdonationaccount:. Any and every donation is much appreciated! Heart

Have a nice day! Spongebob (Imagination) 

 ~That1PersonYouForgot Meow Rainbow

P.S. Sorry for the late welcome!
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xlntwtch Featured By Owner Feb 4, 2015   Writer
:iconblinkthanksfavplz: ... :)
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deviantartchiz Featured By Owner Jan 27, 2015
HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPY birthday. ^_^
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LeftUnfinished Featured By Owner Jan 27, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Happy birthday! birthday cake Hide Birthday Emote My Dork Dance  Hope your day is fantastic!
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