Sarah Carlile

Grade: 12

Mayfield High School

Instructor: Kari Beery

Death of a Youth.

Poetry

Death of a Youth.

a ball of golden fire lights the world from above

the day i came to see you again

not a single spot of gray is blocking the soft blues painting the sky

it's beautiful... and deceiving.

it looks warm and inviting; but the wind is frigid and harsh.

my old, tattered jacket doesn't do well protecting me— no matter how close i wrap it around me.

the fall's always a wild card, isn't it?

cracked pavement crunches

beneath the scuffed-up soles of my combat boots

as i take the road less traveled to get to you

and the smell of fertilizer and artificial carnations

taint my nose

you used to love carnations... they were your favorite.

did you know back then that they mean my heart aches for you? probably not.

but mine does. i notice those sort of things, now.

there's hundreds of them scattered amongst the yard... but none of them by you.

(no one seems to remember but me.)

so i give mine to you. because you deserve to be ached for.

did you know that? probably not.

i feel the soil leak

into my worn-down, ripped jeans

as i kneel to match your height.

i try to fight the flood

rushing within me.

but the dam breaks—

and the soft soil

beneath me

becomes soaked.

another natural disaster to add to the list.

and suddenly, everything is blurred and muddy.

i always took you as a diamond-admirer

but i guess granite was more your style of stone, in the end.

i can't say i blame you.

it takes way too much pressure to make a diamond.

granite's much smoother... easier.

i caress

the phrase engraved on your little rock:

Jane Doe

a sweet little girl, taken too soon
by a cold, cruel world destined for doom
missed so dearly, but put up a fight
despite losing to the man who stole her that night
a wildfire spirit left to drown in dark seas
and innocence destroyed in a disgusting act to please
sacrificed her youth so a woman could survive
even if it meant her childhood would die.

Sep. 25, 2003 - Dec. 12, 2009

and i embrace you for the first and last time.

a melancholy smile makes its way to my face,

as the wind warms and grows softer for just a moment.

and i finally assure you:

you can rest, now.
it's okay. i promise.
for i, the woman, stand before you.
not just surviving... but now living.
all thanks to you,
a six-year-old girl who grew up too fast
and gave up her old life to ensure i would get the chance
to live a new one.

so now, you shall remain at peace.
for i will live this life for the both of us;
and when i meet you again in the next one,
it'll be all yours once more.
for eternity.