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I'm Seventeen, Melodramatic, and Pissed at You (Ode to Miami)

I switch four seats down the row, for serious,
I hate her hair.
That new boyfriend, he's incredibly ugly,
"I think she's incredibly ugly." hey babe, high five.
Later we'll talk about how I was his first love.
I'm grimy. Like raw.
How he calls me a fucking whore because he's insecure
And not because I dated other men behind his back.
I know I screwed him up, I know his prideful fear is my wrongdoing.
I feel no remorse.
I know this girl who sucks coke up her nose and boys down her throat,
I consider her manipulative, and don't think that she knows.
How she'll show up at the houses of people I know,
How I'll take her to parties,
And then get blamed,
"Why did you tell her where we live? We don't want her here."
I talk trash about her behind her back, no lie,
She's my undoing.
I feel no remorse.
Dollface, I made a list of every word that begins with 'God'
And found you nowhere.
You had sex with that girl just to lose it before eighteen,
You do X because dance culture's the only culture you'll ever understand,
So suck it up.
I used to dress slutty and lounge about your bed like some cat in heat,
To make you want me.
Most days I forget that you exist.
Here's me one-hundred-and-seven-pounds
And throwing up Gatorade and coffee flavored yogurt at four a.m.
The whole time, all I can think is,
I don't even throw up this dirty when I'm drunk
Why are you dating that nasty girl with the emo haircut?
She lives across an ocean and I live across Alligator Alley,
I've loved you four years running,
But what are you to her?
Later I'll get a call from my old lover who moved away,
And we'll talk about how he needs to move back to Florida,
Buy a car,
Build an army.
I love him, but I'm going to treat you like shit anyway.
Me and her discuss how badly we want out.
We're tired of the sunshine, we're tired of the heat.
We're tired of the Spanish and the people.
We're tired of running into all those old acquaintances,
Who remember us fatter and dressed in Hot Topic clothing,
Who hate us for never doing Xanax or Triple C's.
We know that once we get out, then we can start over.
We won't talk all this shit, or drink this cheap beer.
Once we get to
Kansas City
New York
Everyone will have it figured out.
We'll forget Miami.
We'll grow up.
I want you to know that I've loved you.
I've defined myself with your sawgrass and your highways.
I've slept with a lot of your men.
I feel no remorse.

"Talking trash to the garbage around you."

14 Mar 07

Rated 9.6 (9.2) by 7 users.
Active (7): 7, 8, 10, 10, 10, 10, 10
Inactive (1): 6

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(5 users consider this poem a favorite)

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 — slowtesque

Hmmm. Well, first of all, welcome to the site.

Intensity of feeling is definitely the strength of this; otherwise, it kind of rambles and repeats the same points ad nauseam. I think you could reduce this, and really concentrate the vitriol for better effect. I don't know how much of this is intended to be a narrator and how much is your own voice, but I'll assume the former for now.

Normally, I would consider some of the repetition and short, abrupt lines to be awkward writing, but from the general structure and style, I'm guessing it was written like that intentionally. It does give a certain sense of immaturity and pettiness (which matches the title), but the irony and self consciousness only carries it so far, then it just becomes a bit tiresome. Again, less repetition of the same theme could help.

I think this has a lot more potential than most other poems like it, and there's definitely a lot of those. A bit subtler touch could help; the kind of self-disparaging tone that you have here is easy to overdo and while I recognize that that's part of the intention, there's a point which it stops being self conscious and starts being an excuse.

Thanks for sharing. I'll be interested to see any revisions you may make.
 — dandy

I think this is really good.  It's funny, sad, authentic, if a bit graphic.  Most of it is over my head, it's fidgety the way you move from topic to topic -- but it actually helps to drive home the underlying sense of apathy and longing-to-escape... that I imagine leads some people to behavave in the ways you describe.  Funny how in the end, sometimes we want to escape the very behavior we've adopted TO escape.  One of life's little ironies, I guess.
 — lzug

I love the story, I got lost it in.  I couldn't stop reading- which is a nice change from the tediousness from some of the longer poems on here.  The number of characters, and the switches of who "you" is, makes it rather confusing.
I really like it, though.
For what definate reasons, I'm not sure.
 — For_Forsaken

This deserves more comments. I thought it was brilliant.
 — DeathShards

Like this a lot. I didn't find the You's really confusing-- it still followed the consistent pattern of you being her #1 problem (for the most part). Maybe 'I feel no remorse' may be spaced out? It just sounds strange to come from the first 2 or so and then just once near the end. But it's your call.
 — Virgil

It's pretty well in focus.   Now, how about a little game
of find the place to poke us?  

With regards from
Every Man Who Will For Sure Fuck Your Trust Behind Your Back

PS: I like your poem OK.

 — netskyIam

Simply put, I adore this.
 — wanderlusted

Excellent style. Your poetry has outstanding charisma. Reading this was better than watching a movie. I think you've formatted it cleverly. What is emo hair?
 — banditfemme

thanks for writing.
my new favourite poet is rabbit.
lovely stuff... looking forward to reading more stories you write rabbit.
 — varun

I fine poem far above the usual type of angsty-teeny stuff we see here.
In a class by itself.  I'm a Miamian, btw.  It was your title that drew me to read.

Do you want a real man, a guy who won't fuck you up?
Hook up with me, an old gay guy (ha ha!!).  You'll get a shoulder,
warmer, and nothing else but two more ears.     I'm kidding.

Welcome to adulthood.
 — reidORnetsky

I'm really not sure what makes me love this so much. I think it's line 14. brilliant poem.

 — EchoesRemain