Ms. Widman High School Creative Writing
My eight long purple tentacles scream
fear and my short white hair is overkill.
My makeup is over excessive and my contracts
are unfair. I tricked
a naive sea creature into giving
me her voice in exchange for some legs
so she could meet someone she barely knows.
I have been banished from the lands and despite
all of my unfairness, I am simply
looking for a form of love in any way possible.
I am a monster with the form of a titanic heart
sunk the day I was set as an outcast by society.
I did not really mean to go as far
as I did with my actions, I was simply
desperate and needed help. No, I didn’t want
to drown her with the eels or
hypnotize her “prince charming” into loving
me, or cause a huge wreckage and turn
her father into a horrid creature.
I made a whirlpool and almost drowned one of them.
I was simply trying to fix something was far past
repairing. My heart was still the same
when I met my end. Broken,
cold and very unrepaired.
Dr. Decorant,
The results were inconclusive
although we tested everything you advised.
Nothing changed.
Subject 03202007 is still unconscious.
I worry that with each new experiment
her waking will only get harder.
But, I trust your judgment
if you think she can handle it
if you are willing to take the risk,
so am I.
On the topic of [REDACTED]
Things are going [REDACTED]
Waiting for further instruction on what to do.
Signed,
Dr. Kilm
Hey there pal,
Meet me over at the studio later.
Hurry on over.
How long?
How long?
Wherever I go the stage is mine.
I throw on my shades and I’m outside all night.
You know I’m forever yours
but you still get upset.
I’m having the best time,
but I’m a dead man walking.
And that’s just the prize of fame.
F*** is you talking ’bout wasting time?!
I’m not your poison.
I’m your role model,
your addiction.
Seems like I’ve got bad luck
the last one left.
WY@?
Last time, you came right back–
now I got a target on my chest.
The 1600’s feels so far away,
until I hear what you had to say.
Outspoken and much ahead of your time,
your poetry is beyond sublime.
And though your words sound like much more,
I hear your voice, and I know what you stand for.
Sor Juana, Sor Juana, I know it is so.
Tu eres una perdedora gay, como yo.
You’re a gay loser, like me.