Things I Have to Tell You: Poems and Writing by Teenage Girls

SECRETSDo you know my secret,Did I tell you it last night,Were you listening to my dreams,Were you hiding out of sight?Do you look to find my secret,Reading letters, reading notes,Picking up sometimes on phone calls,Opening books to see what I wrote?Do you really want to know my secret,Will it answer all your questions,Take away your mass of worries?Or maybe, you could ask for my suggestions.Do you ever think to ask me about my secret,Being honest and forthright,With no lies or hidden feelings?Only then will my secret come to light.Jessica L. McCloskey, age 16 ESCAPEI look inside me and I don’t see itI don’t see the powerThe confidence you say I haveYou say I can do anythingThat I’m sure of myself and my intentionsAnd I wonderBut I don’t knowIf it’s all thereWaiting for the opportunity to jump into youAnd try to help youFix youAsk youWhy? Because I don’t knowI wait anxiouslyFeeling my stomachA block of iceChipping away, melting, then freezing up againWho can I follow?Cuz I don’t want to leadI ask myself every questionThere are temporary answersBut I know moreLike everybody seems to know moreAnd I still don’t know howCuz it’s nice to ignore confrontationAvoid conflictWatch my rainbowAnd let you watch yoursBut the universe knows moreI must take this test just like everyoneTakes testsI am closing in on the skyHoping it will try to escapeAnd I know I will let it get awayLike I let a lot of things get awayCuz then I won’t have to continue the searchFor my powerTheresa Hossfeld, age 16 NEW HONESTYToday I gave upa promising career of "truth."Profound state of lovestepped in like a puzzle piece.Completing, no, notthe Empire State Building,not Mt. Rushmore orvan Gogh’s Sunflowers.Completing insteadmy departure from "honesty."Can I find a balancebetween me and the box I call my family?I want equilibrium.I want subtle change.I want to tell the Truth, not the truth of the womanwho snapped on a collar and named me alive. FINDING JOYI found myself a placeto be, to playa day went by or maybe twono thoughts of you to crowd my empty mindI find my body is to meas lovely asa budding treea cat with graceand emerald eyesso unconcerned with shapely thighsjust meInvisiblya girl inside this shapea woman’s hips and breastsso much wider, softer than the restI found myself a crystal bluelike nymphs or faeries do I never thought of youor what you’d think of meI found my body wasa mass of groundthe earth inside of mebehind my vinyl walls ofpicture perfectionI was the earth, the skyit made me want to cryto shout the softnessI have never dared let outmy curves, my haira part of who I wasa blonde in a clear glass pondmyself a flow of naturealonefinding joyMarissa Korbel, age 16WORDSWords fly across the paper like blackbirds across the skyand I think to myself why oh why oh whywhy why,Why would anyone use words like I hate and I can’t and I quit therefore I won’t and Goodbye. Good bye?Why not take that beautiful skill and use words like I love and I can and I will or at least I’ll try and Hello . . . hello,because I believe in word conservationand if you’re going to use a word at all it should be one that glides off of your tongue I know I am strongboth in my convictions and in myself.I know I am beautifulboth inside and out.I know I am powerfuland growing more so.I know I will do just fine.Laura Veuve, age 15Things I Have to Tell You. Copyright (c) 2001 Betsy Franco. Candlewick Press, Inc., Cambridge, MA