(The following excerpt from my adolescent writing is a tad bit grim and descriptive…if you do not like macabre descriptions of morbidity, please discontinue reading).
My little trip down literary memory-lane wouldn’t be complete without revisiting that dark period of teenage angst that so many youth find themselves trapped in at some point. I wouldn’t think twice about placing this type of disclaimer above my “macabre years” now, but back then, this type of literary spatter dotted the pages of my high-school journal and dripped from my pen like lifeblood. This was what I wrote and this was how I felt.
People that met me on the street would have never have thought me capable of such dark thoughts as a teenager. This prim and proper girl that wore her hair short and attended church every Sunday never let on that she had demons lurking in her mind. Strangers passing on the street couldn’t see the serpents reflected in my retinas. Those who knew me back then, knew of my somewhat sordid history, but my cool exterior never let on that this was a problem. I guess things never really change.
A recent comment from OB reminded me that my childhood literary fluff had evolved into a demonic serpentine lair when I hit my mid-teens. Angst? Frustration? Confusion? Therapeutic? Probably all of these. I had my reasons for spouting these topically nasty poems. My lust for science, reasoning and logic gave my poetry a rather surgical and apathetic air. My artistic side revelled in awe at the Gothic aspects of Dante, Bosch…Yet, I would recoil in horror at the thought of theses images when they hit the paper. It seemed as though my pen was some form of toxic channeling agent.
These darker periods of my life seem to be the exact mirror and opposite of my state of mind now. And, although I am prone to the occasional bout of “the funks” (another, kinder term for depression), I can certainly find myself searching for the light and rehabilitating my soul a little quicker these days. Thank goodness.
So without further adieu…
Introducing teenage angst in …
“Today I heard the blood streaming in my ears,
and I felt the upsetting curves of my large intestine;
each fold so neatly trimmed with bacteria.
My optic nerve sent me desolute images,
and my cataracts blinded me from reality.
My spine split horizontally because of pressure,
and stress fractured my collar bone into six pieces.
The hearing I had gratitude for, diminished
when my ear drum broke, causing blackened
pain to writhe through my aching body.
You gave me this torture.
You gave me this pain.
My vocal chords were torn from screaming
in agony while you laughed my name.
Through all this pain I think of you,
and the sharpest bone in my body,
so I could grasp it
and throw it out to you in vain.”
Desecration. Darkness. Despair. The three D’s of my teenage angst period. Ugh. Thank goodness for adulthood.