Minutes--Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve

A Poem By Madeline // 1/8/2013


They call the game heaven
But I don’t see how
I’m stuck in a closet
With a boy who is loud
And he’s kissing my lips
And I hate it, I do
So I push him away
And I leave the dark room

First date anxieties
Palpable tension
He puts the car into gear
Then gives me his attention
“Thank you for coming”
He says, quite politely
But this date was blind
And I’m rather unsightly
He must notice it
The scar on my face
That has ruined me
In inconceivable ways
But I nod at him
Say, “Yeah, yeah, thanks”
And I’m surprised to watch
A grin graze his face
But perhaps he’s laughing
My mind goes to that place
The place where I’m nothing
Who everyone hates
I duck my head
And he seems to notice
“I hope you do know
That you weren’t just chosen
For me--I picked you.”
And I slowly look up
But he’s smiling again
Facing forward primly
And for the first time in years
I feel...pretty

It’s raining again today
I venture outside with hesitance
When my umbrella is torn from my hand
Pulled away by levity
And then I’m go-go-going
After it
Heels clicking on the sidewalk
Barely registering that it’s wet
And that you are less
Likely to impress
Your boss on first days
If you come in soaked
From your head to your toes
And it’s all too much
I’m forced to bend over
Hands gripping my knees
I sink to the ground
Putting forth silent pleas
Oh, God, I need him now
More than anything
But the rain it still goes
There’s no double-rainbow
To promise good things
So I stand up
Square my shoulders
Think maybe this is my message
That I can’t be impressive
All the time
So I go on
In the rain

Quiet conversation
A moment before the hurricane
It always leads up to this
I think everything’s good
And then one of us bursts
That neither of us are completely sane
Not the way we should be
At least
And then it happens
I feel boiling rage
Come hurtling forth
(This time it’s you
I’ll be sure to
Make a note of that)
And it’s sad
The way I have to be
On my guard
From you
And you
From me
This isn’t what it should be
It’s animosity
At its finest
“You know everything’s your fault!”
Why do I have to take the fall?
“I can’t stand to be near you most days!”
Does he not care that I’m in such pain?
“I wish you would just hurry up and leave.”
Maybe I will, when he’s asleep
And he can’t stop me
Because he would
And I know that
And he knows that
And suddenly
It’s not worth it anymore
This fighting
So I stand
Say, “How about right now?”
And off goes that malicious frown
And in its place
Is blank confusion
He’s afraid
Of what he’d lose
If I choose
The hard decision
And he knows
That I’d pick leaving
In a heartbeat
And he goes,
“Please don’t.”
In that broken voice
It’s so difficult
To resist
But I persist
“I have to”
And on my way up
To pack my things
To finally end it
I look at the clock
See seven minutes
Have passed
Is that all?
How long it takes?
For two good people
To finally break?


It’s a sort of slow-coming feeling
I’m a snail in the dirt
Slugging my way forward
I take a sip of coffee
It’s too hot; it burns
And it hurts
My throat
On the way down
I look over
Offer you a lazy smile
Tilt back in my rocker
And close my eyes
Just to rest for a bit
But then it comes out
“I’m pregnant”
And I feel you stiffen
Then give way
As pure exhilaration
Takes uncertainty’s place
Then you’re hugging me
And it’s the best feeling
I’ve had in a long while

My hands are chapped
I rub some lotion on
It’s slick, lemony
And I lean against the sink
Try to breathe
I have to tell him
Tell him that I like him
As more than a friend
But what if
What if he decides
That I’m not worth it
Worth loving back
Then what?
I’ll be left alone
With nothing to show
For it
Except possibly a broken heart
That cannot be redeemed;
It seems
As I lean away
Go back out into the hall
That I’ve already made the choice
For that beautiful boy
I cannot live without
And broken it myself
Before he even
Had the chance to
And maybe he would have chosen differently
Maybe this...thing
(Whatever it is)
Could have been saved
But I will never know
Because I am not brave
To ask him

Temptation leads me fast to you
It tends to run your way
But every single time I reach
You’re gone without a trace
So even as you hand me your Sprite
It when I’ve already asked for it
And even when you slow-lean back
Put your hand on my leg
It’s because I initiated it
And even when you say you love me
It’s because I said it first
And we both know that it’s on the edge
So comes the final burst
Of energy, and I’m sprinting
Toward the finish line
But you reach it long before I do
You’re--just like that--not mine


Oh dear, oh dear
I’m freaking out
You’re lying in a heap
At my feet
Are you okay?
You manage a shake
Of your head
And I
Help you stand
Make our way
To the van
And get in
As I ask
You to please
Not get blood
On my seats
I hit the gas
A little too
And you laugh
A little too
For it not to be forced
And I’m hoarse
(or my voice is)
As I call back
And ask
Are you really okay?
And you say
Yes, you’re just fine
And I introduce myself
Say my name
And you say yours
And ask me about
That ring
On my finger
And I reply
It’s my grandmother’s
She gave it to me
In July
For my birthday
That kind of thing
And you smile
To yourself this time
And ask if I’m happy with my life
And I frown
Why wouldn’t I be?
I’m sixteen
I love being alive
And you shrug
Say this whole time
You’ve never once
Seen me smile
So I close my eyes
Count to nine
And say
In a rush
But you just smile
And you’re like sunshine
Of course
You say
That I still haven’t

It’s been three years
Yet I still think of you
And the other day
I found the note
That we passed
Do you remember that?
And the time
That you spoke
So persuasively
When she and I stopped being friends
Trying to mend us
You cared enough to try
And the other time
You told me to admit that I liked
And I grinned like a fool
Put my head in my arms
Denied it
For the thousandth time
And remember those
Student Council
How we joked around
And everyone saw
And I thought about telling you--
“When I’m sixteen”
But I didn’t.
It felt too crazy.
And now I’ll never get to.
I’m not going back.
To that place.
Where I know I’ll find you.
And even if I did
Things might not be the same
There would be no guarantee
That you would still like-like me
And it’s not worth it
Being there again
I hated it the first time
I’d hate it more the second

There was a moment of silence after the movie ended.
Where nobody spoke.
And I sat there, for a minute.
But then it drove me away.
And I stood in the kitchen.
Listening to “What a Wonderful World” play.
Flighty strumming.
A man sang about how everything was good.
And I longed to be in there.
Among the mute bodies.
Sharing in that moment.
But I couldn’t.
Do it, that was.
Walk in there.
In the face of emotion.
And be the thing that they watched.
So I waited.
Until the appropriate time.
Slipped back in--so awkward--and sat.
And in a moment he moved.
The music still played.
Everything broke and fell away.
Like pieces of...something.
Something that evaded me.
And still does.
To this day.
And sometimes I look back.
And I wish I was brave.


Do I seriously not want to like her
Because she has him?
I ask myself this
Again and again
And if I’m being completely honest
If I’m telling the truth
Then the answer is yes
And that makes me a fool

I’m on the brink of fact-or-fiction
I don’t know what I’ll say
I have the world at my disposal
But I might have to lay
My pen down for fear of what
Connections they could make
I want to tell the truth in writing
But to share it?
A mistake.

There are a thousand things that scare her
Like first-person
Adults that cry
Thinking the wrong thing
There are a thousand things that wear her
Like drama
And tears
And too much of something
There are few things that ensnare her
Or so she’d like to think
But she can’t be sure, you see
She’s constantly teetering on the brink
Of regressing
Or self-discovery
And they all think she’s so sweet
They don’t wonder who she’ll be
But she--she’s not sure
She feels the need
To redeem
In her own eyes
And at least she has that,
You know,

The cat food can
Was cold in her hand
As she dished it out
With a spoon
And it made that unpleasant
Sticky sound
That seemed so loud
Like the voices
She had heard
Just last night
Engaged in a pointless
Stressful fight
And maybe she is blind
But that’s sight
Not her ears
And she pauses
Thinks of running
But even grown-ups
Have their fears


He wondered what lay beneath the mirror
So he took it down
The glass reflected something new
And fell forth with great sound
And soon the shards were everywhere
He cursed under his breath
Grabbed the broom and dustpan
Up the shards he swept

An hour ‘till mightnight
And yet they’re still up
Dizzy with happiness
Splayed out on their bed
Laughing at nothing
So delirious
And it feels right
To the both
In this moment
But it won’t
Come morning
And they don’t know
That I’m not in any hurry
To tell them

You smiled like you knew
About the Christmas lights
I’d been procrastinating
Putting away
And our mittened hands
Found one another’s
As we walked, leaving
A trace
Of us in deep snow tracks
But the cafe would be warm
And with that thought in mind
We continued to forge on

I stitched my heart onto your sleeve
For you to wear around
Show everyone that you loved me
A point to re-resound
And I’ve always been the shy one
To need the confirmation
Until I found it ripped away
And needed consolation
The threads were frayed on the end
You’d pulled it fast and fierce
Leaving haste-hewn gaps
Without a hint of tears
To show your keen remorse
For there have must been least some
And yet, though I searched it in full
Only my heart had undone


Sometimes I get this laugh
That catches
And then goes on
And on
And on
Seemingly endless
And everything that
Anyone says
Is suddenly hysterical
And when this happens
When I’m forced to lie on the floor
For fear of falling over
I think I might be crazy
Or at least some variation of it
Until I realize
(Like new, each time)
That the only way to go through life
Is to laugh
And that
That’s the key
To certain happiness
So I feel good
By the time I get up
Stomach aching
And allow myself
One last giggle

You gazed at me
And said I must bequeath
My throne
I said no
I would not foreclose
That this place was
My home
Where I raised my babies
And my mother raised me
Where nanna raised my mommy
Did you not see?
But then you’re all business
Never personal at all
For fear of getting close
Of possible withdrawal
And your next words still haunt me
To this very day
You said--
“I’ll give you two weeks to get out.
I can’t help that you don’t pay.”

Endings are bittersweet
Except when you’ve been
Anticipating them
And today?
When you finally told me
That we were done?
Such. A. Relief.

My hair is long and cornsilk yellow.
I stare in the mirror and try not to see.
Your voice is heavy in my ears, reprimanding.
I turn around, scream, “I can’t take it anymore!”
There’s a breaking point for us all.
And mine is here.
In this hotel room.
With you.
The first time I saw you I decided I like you.
I liked your Chucks, and you liked mine.
You were in that flannel shirt you still wear to this day.
And I was wearing my Supergirl one.
I remember that.
The feeling of ecstasy.
The wild way my heart pounded in my chest.
I anticipated your every move.
Now I wish it would just go ahead and end.
Then came the honeymoon phase.
When you said you loved me.
And I you.
When you held my hand with a viselike grip.
And I was almost a hundred percent certain that you would never let go.
But you always had to.
Eventually everyone has to.
When we said goodnight.
Sometimes I wonder--what is a kiss, really?
It’s not as glamorous as we’d like to think.
Just lips.
On lips.
Like you constantly on me when you said I was being too clingy.
Or I on you when I got too clingy.
Or my sister on me for sneaking out with you when I wasn’t supposed to.
Or your father on you for doing less and less of your homework.
And I stare a bit longer.
I don’t like who I see.
There’s bags under my eyes that are partially your fault.
For keeping me awake when you turned away last night.
And that sucks.
This place where we are.
So I turn, say, “I knew this was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have come.”
You’re instantly frustrated.
“It was supposed to give us alone time.”
“I had to lie to my mom about where I was. I should never have to do that.”
“Not even for me?”
“Especially...not,” I say, heading towards my bags. “Especially not for you.”
You don’t get it.
I see it instantly.
In your eyes.
You think love should be a game of sacrifice.
Where everyone gives up something.
But I don’t.
I know better.
I was taught by my parents what it really means.
And it’s not like that at all.
It’s only real when everyone else understands it.
People tend to see situations better than you do.
They’re unbiased and all, like that.
“So that’s it, then?” You ask, watching.
You don’t even try to help.
And that says more than you ever will.
I don’t even bother to answer.
Just swing my bag up on my shoulder.
And make my way to the door.
And leave.



Definitely liked the first installment better. Although the rhythm was really good in most of them, the topic...well, I guess you can say that I don't really enjoy love poems that much. I'm not saying that you shouldn't have written these, not at all! but romantic poems/novels just aren't my thing right now.

But great job on rhythm! And I really liked seven III and eight I. Because seven III can be very relatable to me and eight I was really descriptive and I got the picture in my head. :)

EDIT: Please answer! First. Can you see my picture? I can't. Second. Do you see unusual words above each ApricotPie page? I do; it gets very irritating to scroll down so far to see a page and it is definitely unusual.

Lucy Anne | Wed, 01/09/2013

"It is not the length of life, but the depth of life." Ralph Waldo Emerson

Great job! I was a little bit

Great job! I was a little bit more enraptured by the first installment, also. It seemed like it had come a little bit more easily, like you had gotten really inspired. I still thoroughly enjoyed these though, and I hope that you continue to post them!

Erin | Wed, 01/09/2013

"You were not meant to fit into a shallow box built by someone else." -J. Raymond

Uhhh! So good!!!!!!

I can I pick which one??

I love 10 lll.

Eleven ll.

Eleven lV is amazing rhythm.

Twelve l sounds exactly like me; how did you know?! Great job.

Twelve ll is good. :)

And the last one--man! Well, well, well DONE! It's more like a short story than a poem. So well done.

I LOVE these. Well done, Homey, well done.

Oh, and Lucy: Your picture isn't showing, and I also can see those strange writing stuff. I think I might have already clarified that with you on Changes. :)

Maddi | Wed, 01/09/2013

Goodbye? Oh no, please. Can’t we just go back to page one and start all over again?” – Winnie The Pooh

Thank you for your feedback,

Thank you for your feedback, guys! :)) I so appreciate it.

@Lucy--No, I can't! And the writing is definitely weird. I recently messaged James about a new member I had discovered that seemed to be a virus/hacker that was spamming his/her page. They'd also managed to overwrite (is that the correct word?) two posts per week system and had posted several entries in a span of just a few days. Maybe the writing is an aftereffect from that person? (whoever they were) I know nothing about website programming, so I don't really know.

James removed the person, by the way! So they're gone. :)

He'll probably have it fixed soon. Or whenever. I'm just glad it's working (AP) at the moment.

Madeline | Wed, 01/09/2013

everything was better when/you would call and I'd be like/yeah babe, no way

I saw that spammer too and I

I saw that spammer too and I am glad someone removed it. The name started with a H.

Could you see my picture a few days ago? It was me looking at a waterfall.

Lucy Anne | Wed, 01/09/2013

"It is not the length of life, but the depth of life." Ralph Waldo Emerson

Yes, I saw him too. Or she.

Yes, I saw him too. Or she. Because I clicked on his profile once (and he had posted all this stuff) and then another time he was gone from the 'New' people bar. So, I'm glad he's gone, but yeah....maybe he was the cause of the weird writing up the top?! I don't know.

And Lucy: I haven't seen your picture of the waterfall, even a few days ago.

Maddi | Wed, 01/09/2013

Goodbye? Oh no, please. Can’t we just go back to page one and start all over again?” – Winnie The Pooh

I liked the first installment

I liked the first installment better too, but mostly because the poems were shorter, and a little more contained. These ones seemed more drawn-out. That doesn't mean all of them were like that or that I didn't like some more than others. Like Eleven III. :3 So pretty.

Anna | Fri, 03/22/2013

I have hated the words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right. --The Book Thief


User login

Please read this before creating a new account.