You can feel it. This desk set wants to fly!

"we don't read and write poetry because it's cute. we read and write poetry because we are members of the human race"

[todsflyingdeskset]

Who is this person??

Hi whoever has found my writing blog

Im mattie (they/them), a 15 year old who is trying to relearn how to love writing, after school and forced writing has made it something to dread rather than love. I remember having a deep love for writing when I was younger I was making story's on every paper put Infront of me even if that wasn't the assignment, I eventually lost the love for writing as I got older and teachers stopped appreciating story's in the margins but I hope little me will appreciate their skill coming back. Unlike in school I plan on writing whatever I want here whenever I want to write it whether it's vents of stuff I need out of my head (probably what most of this will be) or a poem about whatever I decide needs to be written about. My inspiration for this is a movie called the dead poets society a movie I highly recommend whether your someone who hates writing, someone on the same journey as me, or a seasoned writer.

Constructive criticism on all my writings is appreciated as I am trying to get better at writing as I learn to love it

Main- @mattie-the-dino

[todsflyingdeskset]

Lines

They will be there forever.

Lines in skin.

A reminder of everytime I didn't want forever to be a thing.

Lines im still making.

Still carving my pain into lines that will always be there.

Lines that make me less worthy of being loved.

Or at least that's how I'm treated once people know about them.

Lines that will be there for the rest of my life.

Even when.

If.

the pain that caused them leaves.

[todsflyingdeskset]

Childhood

Though I'm still a kid.

Technically a teenager.

I miss being a child.

Not yet observant enough.

To see how messed up the world was.

Everything was more colorful.

Not vaguely Gray as it is now.

The only cuts on their skin.

We're from tumbles and falls.

Their mother is still safe to be around.

At least with what they saw.

The shift away from being a child.

happened years before the shift to a teenager.

The world went dark and muted.

Their skin had cuts more frequently no longer from being clumsy.

Their mother turned cruel.

Nothing like the bright happy world they knew before.

I want to go back.

[todsflyingdeskset]

Dear mother

Mother.

I don't think you realize how your words carry.

How your voice is loud enough to be heard from my room behind closed door.

Your all the way in the kitchen.

Talking about a horrible child.

One that's lazy and can't clean their room.

How summer is the worst time of year.

it means that child is here all day everyday.

You don't even realize.

that child is breaking behind those closed doors.

In that messy room that stays unkempt.

The energy to clean it is energy not had.

It is spent with your words replaying in minds already fragile.

Fighting to stay alive.

Fighting to keep cuts off skin that was once soft but has grown rough through years of your words.

The child tries to communicate.

tries to get you too see how they are falling apart.

Cries louder in hopes you hear.

But that door never opens.

There is never a kinder mother standing on the other side.

The child's hope for love is diminishing with each word that cuts as deep as the blade does.

But only the blade lifts weight from their heart.

You mother.

Only add it.

[todsflyingdeskset]

Fear of old

We as humans hate getting reminded we're growing older.

When we are young it's fun to call anyone older then you old.

In your eyes they are.

We make different slang terms to call people older than us.

It always ends up confusing them which in our head just proves out point.

Then we get to the highschool years.

We start reflecting.

Time feels as if its moving quicker.

You sit and have deep talks with your friends.

The same phrase was probably said.

"Damn we getting old when did that happen".

None of you have the answer you just make jokes about it.

"We sound like old people".

You laugh as your friend says it.

Deep down you both know it's true.

We ignore the little thoughts.

How have the years passed this fast.

How does so much time feel like so little.

We don't have an answer.

We just ignore that the question was even asked.

[todsflyingdeskset]

Don't bother them

Leave them be they have their own problems they don't want to hear your's.

They asked for a break you need to respect that.

They have a lot of stuff happening in their life right now so don't put more on their plate.

They are already dealing with school and meds so don't give them something else to worry about on top of it.

They already dealt with you last night and they already did so much don't go to them again today they'll get sick of you.

They don't know you basically at all they don't want to hear your problems even if others have directed you to go to them.

Don't bother them you can survive alone if you bother them they won't want you anymore and you don't want to lose them like you lost everyone else who you let get sick of you.

[todsflyingdeskset]

New adventures

For the weeks leading up to it I told myself I was ready.

You were going to walk the stage and get your diploma and we'd continue as we did before.

But it won't be like before.

Once the school year starts I'll walk in and won't see you in the breakfast line.

I'll go to our club and your groups table will sit empty.

I'll sit down in the cafeteria for lunch and won't see you and your friends talking.

I'm not ready for it.

I wasn't even ready for our last hug.

I don't think you saw the tears in the corners of my eyes.

If you did, you let me keep my dignity by not calling me out.

All the memories of us together bonding over our similar, sucky love lives or me bothering you when I got bored.

All the happy memories turned sad with the thought of never being able to make more.

Knowing that short conversation would probably be the last one we ever have in person.

Though the moment was bittersweet, I'm thankful to have been there to see you off on your new adventure.

[todsflyingdeskset]

Living or surviving

Alive.

I know I'm alive.

My hearts beating.

My lungs are filling with air.

There is food and water in my body.

But is that really living.

Or just surviving from day to day.

Someone truly living wouldn't stare at the ceiling until late in the night.

They wouldn't have paragraphs written on their skin from the times they were barely even surviving.

They wouldn't have to practice smiling in the bathroom mirror .

Someone truly living can leave their house without feeling like they can't breathe.

They would have people who love them just for being them.

They wouldn't have to change or filter themselves around people just cause they don't want to be a burden or annoying or worry anyone.

[todsflyingdeskset]

How far I've come

It feels strange to look back on my past self.

I've come so far from that little kid I used to be.

The one who didn't understand why the girls on their shows seemed so pretty and why the word "she" was so uncomfortable to hear.

I've come so far even in just the last year.

At this time last year if you told me about myself now I would have laughed in your face.

Only a few friends who I was very close with knew I was a lesbian.

And no one knew I was non-binary.

No one knew that in my own head I was mattie instead of the name I introduced myself with.

No one knew that the word "she" felt like a personal attack to my soul.

But now all my friends know I'm a lesbian.

Now I exist online as Mattie getting referred to with "they" instead of "she".

And even one of my real life friends knows I'm Mattie.

My past self would be so happy about who I get to be.

And I am too.

I am Mattie and I am so damn proud of that.

[todsflyingdeskset]

The pain that comes with love

The more you love something the more it hurts when it's gone.

It's something everyone experiences in life.

Whether losing a childhood pet or a falling out with friends or death of a grandparent.

The absence leaves a hole behind where they used to be.

It feels wrong but life keeps moving and you must keep moving with it as you grieve.

It almost feels cruel.

Everyone else is fine and thus you must be too even though it feels as if the ground beneath your feet has disappeared.

The pain never fully leaves but you must keep continuing.

It feels like a piece of you was lost with them and maybe you did.

The piece of you that loved them lost to the void of pain.

But you must continue like that piece was never there.

[todsflyingdeskset]

Could this be prevented

All I needed was love and care.

Maybe even a hug every once in a while.

But I'm too messed up for anyone to want to love me.

Trauma, scars, and anxious attachment are too much for people.

Maybe one day a girl will see all that and stay but it seems like a long shot at least right now.

Instead I write.

The words wrap around as the hugs I never received.

They feel like love and care.

The words understand me since I am who writes them.

Unlike the narrative others write about me.

Quiet, stupid, pathetic, wrong, disappointment, mistake.

All words heard so much they embedded themselves in my soul.

I've replaced them with words of my own.

Brave, smart, important, loveable, worthwhile, kind, good.

Though the words of others take over most of the time the ones of my own fought well for their place and one day they will stay

[todsflyingdeskset]

My take on the poetry prompt from joe hills hermitcraft season 11 episode 25

Femur dream

The night was like every other after any day that seemed too long.

The same routine was followed that I had done a million times.

Eat a snack, shower, wash my face, brush my teeth, and climb into bed.

I was out almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.

The exhaustion from the day might have been what caused the crazy dream that ensued.

There were thousands of bones.

Femur's.

How do I know that?

I'm not a med student I barely passed biology.

I was snapped out of my thoughts as the bones get up and moved toward me.

Their bones, how do they get up?

I don't stay to find out I start running.

They're faster.

They get closer and closer.

Bones are clacking together.

They are about to get me!

Beeeep! beeeep! beeeep!

My eyes open.

I'm in my room.

My alarm is blaring.

I shut it off as the dream settles in my head.

"I need to stop eating cheese before bed".

I hope younger me is proud of this one. Its the kind of stuff they loved to write

[todsflyingdeskset]

Darkness

I was never scared of the dark until the darkness started creeping into my head.

They say theres always light if you look hard enough.

But whatever is in my head must be true black

It sucks up light and it gets lost in the void

I wish it didn't but you can't control what a black hole sucks up they are neverending nothing escapes.

Not even the universe that hold it.

[todsflyingdeskset]

What would happen

What would happen if I woke up as I always wished I was.

Would I be confused at the sudden changes or relieved to finally feel like myself.

Would my confidence get better with the changes or is that something I'd have to learn.

Would people like me more since I stopped hiding cause I didn't want the appearance that seemed wrong in my eyes to be perceived by others.

Would I be happier with the changes or would I miss my old skin and the familiarity it had imbedded in it.

Would I stop hating the mirror as I have since before I even knew why I was feeling this way.

Would the comments from family about growing bodies, curves, and birthing hips when I was way to young to hear that always made me feel disgusted and want to disappear finally stop.

[todsflyingdeskset]

A conversation with the monsters

Monsters are fictional at least that's what you're told when you're younger but they aren't they live in my head everyday.

"get worse, make new marks in your skin watch the blood drip down".

"you deserve this there's something wrong with you this will help it go away".

"you do nothing but hurt people so now you must hurt too".

"you really thought they cared NO your horrible".

phrases they love to scream in my head joining in the chorus along with my mother's words that love to replay.

"get out of my head your words are wrong I don't want to do that I want to get better get out of my head".

I try to make them go away but they are insidious screaming their words louder than I can yell back or drown out.

[todsflyingdeskset]

A poem for the good teachers

You always hear horror stories of teachers you don't want when you go up a grade or to a new building.

You hear of the ones who have short tempers, ones who yell, ones who favor boys and popular girls ignoring everyone else who doesn't fit those categories.

But this isn't about them they are heard of enough this is about the good teachers who get overshadowed when telling tales of the years but make sure every student is seen and heard.

This is about the 1st grade teacher who sits down and has conversations with students and made sure the creative students were doing just as well as the smart ones even if it meant doing more artistic assignments so there would be an equal challenge.

This is about the family consumer science teacher who let the quiet kid sit alone to not be overwhelmed but still made sure they were included and checked in on them regularly to make sure they weren't confused.

This is about the 8th grade English teacher who let kids present in a small group of friends instead of the whole class when asked so they didn't have to deal with the panic and embarrassment of stuttering through a presentation.

This is about the band teacher everyone says is scary when you first join and will jokingly make fun of you if you ask a stupid question you should have known but bragged about his students to everyone who would listen when we did good or won a competition.

who every older student who struggled with mental health talks about how helpful he was and how cared for they felt with his consistent checking in so I know he cares even if I haven't told anyone but certain friends about my struggles.

This is about the health teacher who never complained about students wearing headphones knowing the class was packed and it got loud and overwhelming sometimes and let the quiet kid present with headphones on.

she probably didn't even know about how that kid stutters during presentation and the music helped prevent that.

This is about the 9th grade English teacher who made sure her stances on supporting queer and trans students and hating ice and maga were clear so kids knew they were safe in that room no matter what.

which was very appreciated by the multiple queer kids in the room cause we wouldn't be safe in most of the building.

[todsflyingdeskset]

Mother knows best

Mother knows best a phrase my mother repeated every time I watched my favorite princess movie.

I don't think she realized mother gothel was the villain in the story and that the phrase was how she kept control.

Though even I knew it was a phrase of control and I was 4 she was in her 30's.

Though age doesn't speak much for knowledge but she was old enough to use context clues.

Or maybe she was repeating it for the same reason mother gothel was saying it.

Control, dependence.