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What do you think of my poem?

The year I turned 15, The sky was humid and sexy It stuck to my skin, full of those unanswered questions. July was a thunderstorm and warm rain, the End of school and I was

Born again. My poster wall torn apart, Kurt’s face creased into an unsettling, exciting revision of itself. He didn’t have the time of day for me anymore, Even if they did I wouldn’t recognize them, or my own face in the mirror.

Santa Ana winds I read about blew somewhere: hot and fierce and hungry. I knew their fractious desperation, felt their fire as I lay on my bed and Married his smell, from a T-Shirt I stole at his house, each second a long, slow year here or there: 15 again, 15 again, oh, to be 15 again.

Who could I tell? My mother was dead, her glistening red lipstick a reminder. He was my beautiful bastard and his girlfriend wore a green dress he liked, those days we laid in the park, her laughing.

And the green, green sea stretching out across us, reaching to forever - Dangerous and free.

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Answer #1

That is excellent Joel. Well-structured, gripping and vivid imagery. Great work you should be proud of yourself. I especially liked the phrase ‘fractious desperation’.

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