Points Of Retreat Poetry

Here’s the poems from the 2nd book of the Slammed series by Colleen Hoover, which is about the guy’s POV. If you want to read the Slammed series, you can go to this link and just click on the title of the book to download the PDF version =)

Tuesday, January 10th, 2012
If I were a carpenter, I would build you
a window to my soul.
But I would leave that window shut and
locked,
so that every time you tried to look
through it…all you would see is your own
reflection.
You would see that my soul
is a reflection of you…

Saturday, January 14th, 2012
I love being with you so bad
When we aren’t together, I miss you so bad
One of these days, I’m going to marry you
so bad
And it’ll be
so
so
good.

Write Poorly

Write poorly.
Suck
Write awful
Terribly
Frightfully
Don’t care
Turn off the inner editor
Let yourself write
Let it flow
Let yourself fail
Do something crazy
Write fifty thousand words in the month
of November.
I did it.
It was fun, it was insane it was one thousand
six hundred and sixty seven words a
day.
It was possible.
But, you have to turn off your inner critic.
Off completely.
Just write.
Quickly.
In Bursts.
With joy.
If you can’t write, run away for a few.
Come back.
Write again.
Writing is like anything else.
You won’t get good at it immediately.
It’s a craft you have to keep getting better.
You don’t get to Julliard, unless you
practice.
If you want to get to Carnegie Hall, practice,
practice, practice.
…or give them a lot of money.
Like anything else it takes ten thousand
hours to get to mastery.
Just like Malcolm Gladwell says.
So write.
Fail.
Get your thoughts down.
Let it rest.
Let it marinate.
Then edit.
But don’t edit as you type,
that just slows the brain down.
Find a daily practice,
for me it’s blogging every day.
And it’s fun.
The more you write, the easier it gets. The
more it is a flow, the less a worry. It’s not
for school, it’s not for a grade, it’s just to
get your thoughts out there.
You know they want to come out.
So keep at it. Make it a practice. And write
poorly, write awfully, write with abandon
and it may end up being
really
really
good.

Point of Retreat

Twenty-two hours and our war begins.
Our war of limbs
and lips
and hands…
The point of retreat
Is no longer a factor
When both sides of the line
Agree to surrender
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve
lost…
Or is it how many times you’ve won?
This game we’ve been playing for fiftynine
weeks
I’d say the score
is
none
to
none.
Twenty-two hours and our war begins
Our war of limbs
and lips
and hands…
The best part of finally
Not calling retreat?
The showers above us
Raining down on our feet
While the bombs are exploding and
the guns fire their rounds. Before the two
of us collapse to the ground. Before the
battle, before the war…
You need to know
I’d go fifty-nine more.
Whatever it takes to let you win.
I’d retreat all over
and all over
and over
again.

Tuesday, January 24th, 2012
The heart of a man
is no heart at all
If his heart isn’t loved by a woman.
The heart of a woman
is no heart at all
If her heart isn’t loving a man.
But the heart of a man and a woman in love
Can be worse than not having a heart
Because at least if you have no heart at all
It can’t die when it breaks apart.

Because of you

“There are moments in every relationship
that define when two people start to fall in
love.
A first glance
A first smile
A first kiss
A first fall…”
(I remove the Darth Vader house shoes from
my satchel and look down at them.)
“You were wearing these during one of those
moments.
One of the moments I first started to fall in
love with you.
The way you gave me butterflies that
morning
had absolutely nothing to do with anyone
else,
and everything to do with you.
I was falling in love with you that morning
because of you.”
(I take the next item out of the satchel. When
I pull it out and look up, she brings her
hands to her mouth in shock.)
“This ugly little gnome
with his smug little grin…
He’s the reason I had an excuse to invite you
into my house.
Into my life.
You took a lot of aggression out on him over
those next few months.
I would watch from my window as you would
kick him over every time you walked by him.
Poor little guy.
You were so tenacious.
That feisty, aggressive, strong-willed
side of you….
the side of you that refused to take crap from
this concrete gnome?
The side of you that refused to take crap
from me?
I fell in love with that side of you
because of you.”
(I set the gnome down on the stage and grab
the c.d.)
“This is your favorite c.d.
‘Layken’s shit.’
Although now I know you intended for shit
to be possessive,
rather than descriptive.
The banjo started playing through the speakers
of your car
and I immediately recognized my favorite
band.
Then when I realized it was your favorite
band, too?
The fact that these same lyrics inspired
both of us?
I fell in love with that about you.
That had absolutely nothing to do with
anyone else.
I fell in love with that about you
because of you.”
(I take a slip of paper out of the satchel and
hold it up. When I look at her, I see Eddie
slide her a napkin. I can’t tell from up here,
but that can only mean she’s crying.)
“This is a receipt I kept.
Only because the item I purchased that night
was on the verge of ridiculous.
Chocolate milk on the rocks? Who orders
that?
You were different, and you didn’t care.
You were being you.
A piece of me fell in love with you at that
moment,
because of you.”
“This?” (I hold up another sheet of paper.)
“This I didn’t really like so much.
It’s the poem you wrote about me.
The one you titled ‘mean?’
I don’t think I ever told you…
but you made a zero.
And then I kept it
to remind myself of all the things I never
want to be to you.”
(I pull her shirt from my bag. When I hold it
into the light, I sigh into the microphone.)
“This is that ugly shirt you wear.
It doesn’t really have anything to do with
why I fell in love with you.
I just saw it at your house and thought I’d
steal it.”
(I pull the second to last item out of my bag.
Her purple hair clip. She told me once how
much it meant to her, and why she always
keeps it.)
“This purple hair clip?
It really is magic…just like your dad told you
it was.
It’s magic because, no matter how many
times it lets you down…you keep having
hope in it.
You keep trusting it.
No matter how many times it fails you,
You never fail it.
Just like you never fail me.
I love that about you,
because of you.”
(I set it back down and pull out a strip of paper
and unfold it.)
“Your mother.”
(I sigh)
“Your mother was an amazing woman, Lake.
I’m blessed that I got to know her,
And that she was a part of my life, too.
I came to love her as my own mom…just as
she came to love Caulder and I as her own.
I didn’t love her because of you, Lake.
I loved her because of her.
So, thank you for sharing her with us.
She had more advice about
Life and love and happiness and
heartache than anyone I’ve ever known.
But the best advice she ever gave me?
The best advice she ever gave us?”
(I read the quote in my hands)
“Sometimes two people have to fall apart, to
realize how much they need to fall back
together.”
(She’s definitely crying now. I place the slip
back inside the satchel and take a step closer
to the edge of the stage as I hold her gaze.)
“The last item I have wouldn’t fit, because
you’re actually sitting in it.
That booth.
You’re sitting in the exact same spot you sat
in when you watched your first performance
on this stage.
The way you watched this stage with passion
in your eyes…I’ll never forget that moment.
It’s the moment I knew it was too late.
I was too far gone by then.
I was in love with you.
I was in love with you because of you.
(I back up and sit down on the stool behind
me, still holding her stare.)
I could go on all night, Lake.
I could go on and on and on about all the
reasons I’m in love with you.
And you know what? Some of them are the
things that life has thrown our way.
366/567
I do love you because you’re the only other
person I know that understands my
situation.
I do love you because both of us know what
it’s like to lose your mom and your dad.
I do love you because you’re raising your
little brother, just like I am.
I love you because of what you went through
with your mother.
I love you because of what we went through
with your mother.
I love the way you love Kel.
I love the way you love Caulder.
And I love the way I love Kel.
So I’m not about to apologize for loving all
these things about you, no matter the reasons
or the circumstances behind them.
And no, I don’t need days, or weeks, or
months to think about why I love you.
It’s an easy answer for me.
I love you because of you.
Because of
every
single
thing
about you.”

Sunday, January 29th, 2012.
I’ve learned something about my heart.
It can break.
It can be ripped apart.
It can harden and freeze.
It can stop. Completely.
It can shatter into a million pieces.
It can explode.
It can die.
The only thing that made it start beating
again?
The moment you opened your eyes.

Butterfly you

“Butterfly.
What a beautiful word
What a delicate creature.
Delicate like the cruel words that flow
right out of your mouths
and the food that flies right out of your
hands…
Does it make you feel better?
Does it make you feel good ?
Does picking on a girl make you more of a
man?
Well, I’m standing up for myself
Like I should have done before
I’m not putting up with your
Butterfly anymore.”
(Kiersten slides the sack off her wrist and
opens it, pulling out a handful of hand-made
butterflies. She takes the microphone out of
the stand and begins walking down the stairs
as she continues speaking.)
“I’d like to extend to others what others have
extended to me.”
(She walks up to Mrs. Brill first and holds
out a butterfly)
“Butterfly you, Mrs. Brill.”
(Mrs. Brill smiles at her and takes the butterfly
out of her hands. Lake laughs out loud
and I have to nudge her to get her to be
quiet. Kiersten walks around the room,
passing out butterflies to several of the students,
including the three from the
lunchroom.)
“Butterfly you, Mark.
Butterfly you, Brendan.
Butterfly you, Colby.”
(When she finishes passing out the butterflies,
she walks back onto the stage and
places the microphone back into the stand.)
“I have one thing to say to you
And I’m not referring to the bullies
Or the ones they pursue.
I’m referring to those of you that just stand
by
The ones who don’t take up for those of us
that cry
Those of you who just…turn a blind eye.
After all it’s not you it’s happening to
You aren’t the one being bullied
And you aren’t the one being rude
It isn’t your hand that’s throwing the food
But…it is your mouth not speaking up
It is your feet not taking a stand
It is your arm not lending a hand
524/567
It is your heart
Not giving a damn.
So take up for yourself
Take up for your friends
I challenge you to be someone
Who doesn’t give in.
Don’t give in.
Don’t let them win.”

Suck and sweet

I’ve had a lot of sucks in life
A lot
My parents died almost four years ago, right
after I turned seven
With every day that goes by I remember
them less and less
Like my mom…I remember that she used to
sing.
She was always happy,
always dancing.
Other than what I’ve seen of her in pictures,
I don’t really remember what she looks like.
Or what she smells like
Or what she sounds like
And my Dad
I remember more things about him, but only
because I thought he was the most amazing
man in the world.
He was smart. He knew the answer to
everything.
And he was strong.
And he played the guitar.
I used to love lying in bed at night, listening
to the music coming from the living room.
I miss that the most.
His music.
After they died, I went to live with my
grandma and grandpaul.
Don’t get me wrong…I love my
grandparents.
But I loved my home even more.
It reminded me of them.
Of my mom and dad.
My brother had just started college the year
they died.
He knew how much I wanted to be home.
He knew how much it meant to me,
so he made it happen.
I was only seven at the time, so I let him do
it.
I let him give up his entire life just so I
could be home.
Just so I wouldn’t be so sad.
If I could do it all over again, I would have
never let him take me.
He deserved a shot, too. A shot at being
young.
But sometimes when you’re seven, the world
isn’t in 3-D.
So,
I owe a lot to my brother.
A lot of ‘thank you’s’
A lot of ‘I’m sorry’s’
A lot of ‘I love you’s’
I owe a lot to you, Will
For making the sucks in my life a little less
suckier
And my sweet?
My sweet is right now.

Friday, March 2nd, 2012.
It’s worth all the aches,
All the tears,
the mistakes…
The heart of a man and a woman in love?
It’s worth all of the pain in the world.

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