Shayla's District

ANOTHER DOODLE THAT IS BAD BUT I POSTED IT ANYWAYYY~

DOODLE I DID IN CLASS!

(THIS WAS A SCHOOL ASSIGNMENT, THIS DID NOT HAPPEN TO ME. Also, See My Inside Out Poem for part one.)

3 weeks since the day I lost my very soul. I feel weaker everyday, the doc says that I have depression; he makes me take this pill called ‘Zoloft’. Over time… your heart will begin to fill with hope; I know it, you are a strong soul Bohdana. Fake. Words. I. Will. Never. Get. Better. I would like to be able to say that I am sad about what happened, I am not. I. Don’t. FEEL. Anything. Is that for worse or for better? Doctor Ellinbline makes me write letters, he says it can be to anyone. 

Dear the ones I should grieve,

BROTHER, Buddy, Bud: I saw your wings as bright as day, please forgive me for letting the bombs take them away.

SISTER, Sissy, Sis: I never got to kiss your tiny fingers, and your little soul still lightly lingers. 

FATHER, Papa, Pa: Why did you have to go to sleep? Why was death your lullaby while I weeped and cried? Rubble tucked you in, did you forget about your kin?

MOTHER, Mama, Ma: I am sorry that I lost your third child, My sister-that I will never see smile. I feel that I should’ve seen this coming from a mile, yet I did not believe that there was actually war coming until I saw it for myself.

A bird with broken wings,

Sky awaits me.

High in the clouds,

Ever-falling. 

Stop waiting please. 

Today, I am 16, I was 10 then.

This writing has gotten quite simple.

My words don’t feel like pearls.

They don’t swirl, they don’t twirl.

That is because I since then, 

My life has been quite dull.

Yet my heart is fuller,

Even with space for my lost ones.

I am not drowning,

(THIS WAS A SCHOOL ASSIGNMENT, THIS DID NOT HAPPEN TO ME. Also, see my Back Again Poem for part two.)

Fog clouds my mind as it continues seeping into the nooks and crannies of my mentality, dad is sleeping, he would usually snore; yet no breath escapes him. The only thing I can see-his gaze following me, mouth agape as if about to speak. Rubble tucks him in like a swooning mother, as he drifts into a nap he will never escape from. My ears catch rifts of sound-bombs everywhere, fire creating smoke with ranges of grey to black like this blurry world. For once, I notice I am the brain inside of my skeleton-as I realize I am screaming, “FATHER! SISTER! MOTHER! BROTHER! Papa! Sissy! Mama! Buddy! Pa… Sis… Ma… Bud…” The tears I cry hit the bloody corpse of my brother; I don’t believe that I would’ve known it was him if I didn’t see his corpse fly. Mother’s carcass held my baby sister-before ma’s guts got blown out; Sister’s ashen body lays on the unrecognizable face of its producer. Why can’t I look away? Why can’t I see their faces? Why am I alive?

Neon mustard gloves grip my shoulders, I don’t care. Mustard people say words, I don’t understand. People put me in a big helicopter, I’m not the only one. Not the only survivor. The loud buzz and hum of the helicopter isn’t heard until it is packed full like a sardine can. Loud silence erupts when I awake from a slumber I do not remember entering. Rhythmic beep, beep, beep of a heart monitor. Beeeeeep-I hold my breath until my ears ring and a nurse comes rushing in. I stare at her, she gives me a smile, You’re awake! Staaare… the curtain almost hits my face as air flows in-the doctor stares at me, heavy breathing, red face. The boney doctor opens his mouth yet he chokes on his spit. Boney Doctor Ellinbline cough cough cough. Doctor whatever checks my vitals. Whatever works… I don’t care that the world still revolves. Work… talking about work… Doctor whatever really needs a raise; at least that is what he explained to me. Talking is what I hear, talking isn’t what I do anymore. 

The doctor and the nurse converse quietly as my eyes focus on the blare of the yellow ceiling lights. They don’t speak in my language, they speak in English. Habbado ubbub dopi depreon truma… terapist. I wonder if they are talking about me or the old man in the bed on the other side of the peach-colored curtain. What is your name? Finally, they speak in my tongue again. I don’t speak. They give me a whiteboard and a marker. Bohdana Nahenko. I remember a poem bud made for me:

Brave sis,

One and only,

Hope of mine,

Daisies are my favorite,

And you are too!

Never stop blooming like the flower you are,

Death swirls in her mind-like a ballerina,

depression feels like fog tinted with the smell of pine.

She spends her nights drowning in vodka and wine,

cold floor of her shed splinters her knees as she sits.

No motion as her will to fight fades,

drink, drank, drunk, her emotions have sunk.

Eyes stare at the dust shown by the ray of light pouring in the 

pathetically small window.

Thread sewn into her gown like broken dove's wings, 

though she seems to have given up-her heart still sings 

it's mournful tune.

Looks down-at her ivory skin stained with crimson and bruise, 

looks up-a rope waiting-like a portal not meant for mortals.

She doesn't choose-she drinks more booze and sleeps,

I saw a lonely girl,

She did a little twirl.

Scars painted her skin,

Eyes full of pins.

Singing, nobody seems to hear her,

Ode to chores,

you get me up in the morning,

Find. 

Nowhere found.

Walk.

On ground.

Talk.

I used to think about the now,

I used to live in the now.

Now I am thinking about the later,

Now I am living in the later.

Later I will think about the present and then,

Far away, the foxes play.

Far away, the horses bay.

What happens near to me?

Far away, it is not today.

Far away, you do not hear what I say.

Near to me, ink meets parchment.

Near to me, minds are sore.

The sky's hue took a color like sweet lemons,

Mountains soil crisp as sour honey near the hill's tears.

Ravens' dancing in the fire, flames meeting their feathers,

Caverns' pools boiling, moths' shrill calls fill the air,

Realization that their wings are no more, blaming the forest for flightless bodies.

I don't know.

How do these vines grow?

From low to high,

Bones to sky,

From the tears I cry?

I don't know.

Can these vines fly?

UNDO THE KNOTS THEY TIE?

Can they make a pie

for

They step on me,

Wipe their dirty shoes on me,

Wait on me.

Oh- and the neighbor's dog...

It peed on me.

I am your lovely welcome mat.

Sitting where i'm sat.

PLEASE LET ME RETIRE.

You guys should use the songs that are suggested for you on Spotify, Apple Music...etc to make a poem like I did lol. (The bold is the poem.)

Here Is Mine:

Clocks - ColdPlay

Fix You - Coldplay

Everybody's Changing - Keane

Wherever You Will Go - The Calling

Feel - Robbie Williams

Human - The Killers

Don't Speak - No Doubt

Your Song - Elton John

How You Remind Me - Nickelback

I'm With You - Avril Lavigne

Enjoy The Silence - Depeche Mode

Everybody Hurts - R.E.M.

Here With Me - Dido

Sing - Travis

I'll Stand By You - Pretenders

Right Here Waiting - Richard Marx