Channel: Savannah Brown

Category: People & Blogs

Tags: savannah brownslamspoken wordsavannxhbpoetry

Description: sorry for the kinda poppy sound! i had my mic in my overall pocket and it didn't work as well as i had hoped links: insta: instagram.com/savbrown twitter: twitter.com/savannahbrown website: savbrown.com i wrote a novel: amazon.co.uk/Truth-About-Keeping-Secrets/dp/0241346304 also a poetry book: amazon.co.uk/Graffiti-other-poems-Savannah-Brown/dp/152721219X words: i was never cool. not me, not my spent-my-middle-school-weekends-at-writing-tournaments ass, too-big t-shirt tucked into bootcuts, puffy braces gums, dry lips lisp loud and lanky and frankly real lonely i felt so elsewhere, missed the memo; like everyone else went right, but i was left now stuck in a perpetual state of other but then i tuned in. closed-mouth, switch-flip— see, what i figured i was missing was indifference they were always in view. impossible to reach, but still there a thin scar of land, and me, a starving sailor: the too-cool-kids. won’t get out of bed for less kids, cyanide eyes kids they were smooth, stoic; where they went they floated calculated pack-travelers excited by little and in love with less but oh, i wanted them to be in love with me me. excited by everything me. obsessive personality me, what’s an indoor voice me i listened close, tried to discern what language they were speaking i could never roll my r’s so i traded in my tongue for someone else’s but then they all said i was trying too hard anyway, i didn’t look like me anymore i was not cool. i was never cool to them, i was a cannonball to their stone throw not in a romantic way, in a destructive way see, the too-cool-kids were proof that when you reveal what makes you tick, it’s easy for you to crumble when they know which brick topples the tower, they’ve got you so what you do is you keep your voice level, unwavering insist you’ve never savored anything become practiced in passivity after all it’s all the same to you, really it’s nothing. insignificant. couldn’t care less i wished i couldn’t care less craved to couldn’t care less case me up, beetle skin i wondered what the world felt like when it only brushed up against you and didn’t make its home inside your belly sweet sweet disconnect maybe i just wanted to be respected to be feared like them, revered like them to be seen as someone worth interest, worth love to be seen as someone who had it all figured out but i’ll never have it all figured out and neither, i learned, will the too-cool-kids years of pins-and-needle-legs trying to experience life at its most lukewarm only to discover that we’re here too briefly to be tepid when a lifetime is a blink how you can you be content standing still until your eyes dry out? that’s not what cool kids do anymore. the cool kids love ferociously stay up late because they want it just right they are hungry for more and will not be silenced the cool kids care about people. about poetry. about science. about art they’re not embarrassed of the moments that make their nerves burn the cool kids are not ashamed that they are different; they shout it i got first place at one of those writing tournaments i’m really proud of it and if i could go back and change what i’ve done, i’d tell myself it’s fine to feel all of it and then some be an authority on appetite instead of apathy find out that yeah, passion makes you vulnerable but that’s sort of the point we’re all trapped in our heads and the cracks in our skin are the only way we can let other people in so do nowadays i think that’s too cool