Teenager | Page 7 | Young Writers Project

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[Art by Amelia_v, YWP]

Who are you and what is your life like as a teenager in 2023? In words or images, explore, but don't feel limited by, questions such as:

Who are you at your core? How, when, or where do you most feel like your true self?
What most inspires you? Where do you find awe, joy, contentment, kindness, love?
What are the major influences in your life – people, places, ideas, creativity, the arts? How do they help to define who you are, what is important to you, and what you hope for in your life?
What issues are teenagers facing that adults don’t understand?

PRIZES AND PUBLICATION IN TWO CATEGORIES: Writing: Poetry, prose, essay, commentary, songwriting; Visual Art Category: Photography, painting, sketching, sculpture, collage, digital art. If your chosen genre or medium isn't listed here, that's OK, go ahead and submit it!
NOTE TO VISUAL ARTISTS: Responses can be abstract, literal, symbolic, interpretive, realistic – whatever best conveys your message.
DEADLINE: March 1, 2023

Return to main contest page for all the details!

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Responses to this Challenge

Feb 05

poetry challenge: Teenager

rishi_jraman256

Headphone Escapism

I felt the mascara
run down like broken fountain pens
like trauma we wish to forget—
   but patterns the psyche like bloodstains
on a white dress

my heart has been     still
  since you’ve said those words;
the shell of my body has
moved soullessly
and   poetry won’t repair
this because

my mind circles you like vultures

—but maybe there’s solace
in the   soft fabric of
old headphones.
worn.

and when I put them on,
  everything else is gone
and    nothingness
is bliss
and life is softer to the touch,
not overstimulating,
because songs are just poetry
brewed on the beauty of musical strings.

and when I hit play,
suddenly I’m    transported
into
Kendrick Lamar’s m.A.A.d city of Compton,
Phoebe Bridgers’ Kyoto skies,

Posted: 02.05.23

Feb 04

poetry challenge: Teenager

aliza.j

"Speak your Truth"

Right now, my Truth
is that I am alive. I am
Alive, and it hurts, and it’s beautiful,
and it’s a cage, and it is freedom.
My Truth is that I live in Love,
my Truth is that everyday is one soaring Flight,
my Truth is that all I have is this flowing Heart and an
anonymous, infinite, ocean of a Soul.

My Truth is that I am Human, that I open my hands
palm side up, to welcome my Friends.
My Truth is that this is all I can give:
Words.

My Truth is that I am kind. I am selfish.
My Truth is that I am gentle. I am hurt.
I am tired.
My Truth is that I am so full of life and wondrous energy that
I could spin with my arms stretched open under the stars
and the wind and the
bright, bright sun for eternity.

My Truth is that I am true. I am no one thing, but I am true.
I’m a paradox, unending. I’m so full of pain that I only want to love.

Posted: 02.04.23

Feb 03

poetry challenge: Teenager

TheDemiDevil

This Is Your Life Now

Light sobbing in the bathroom stall
Aren't we all crying a bit on the inside?
Report cards are passed out, the same pleas and worried voices,
"Can you make my B+ an A?"
"My parents are gonna be so mad ..."
"I should've studied more."
Disappointed, we hug ourselves,
And remember that this is our life now.

Exiting the classroom
The soho dolls pass you by
Lips painted like porcelain figures,
Wearing the cool clothes you saw online
but couldn't afford.
Aliens to the real, regular world
Floating on a thick cloud of sexy and sweet that cloys you.
But you have to remember that this is your life now.
Everyone feels this way, so there are no soho dolls, or cool kids.
Right?

The bus is even worse.
You slink by the other students down the crowded aisle
And it's loud.
Music can't drown anything out anymore.
You're plagued by the infamous bouncing leg.

Posted: 02.03.23

Feb 03

poetry challenge: Teenager

Sawyer Fell

;

i began writing my will and goodbyes at 13;
after every night i waited for my death bed
to hold me in an unconscious embrace and
to cradle me until i returned to our Mother,

i anticipated my rebirth to commence at 14;
i endured the unforeseen stumble onto loves knife,
while my twin flame burned third degree scars
i blindly thanked both of them for bestowing

pain rather than leaving me empty, then came 15;
i banished fire, too destructive for my wounded
world, wynorrific tree of heaven’s pioneered the
second succession in coming-of-age stories, and

when the retreat of fog revealed a serene 16;
i thought maybe this is what people know as faith,
instead of worshiping Grim i began venerating Future,
i meticulously wrote my new script with the love

i should have always gifted myself, but today is 17;
every year prior i addressed my bare death bed,

Posted: 02.03.23

Feb 03

poetry challenge: Teenager

star

They Tell Us

These are the best years of your lives, they tell us,
so stop pretending you're truly suffering.
Chin up, they tell us,
mask your grimace with your widest smile
because everthing is fine.
Stop complaining, they tell us,
middle-school kids can be annoying but
just ignore them,
you're better,
why succumb to their level
and get angry?
You're on the cusp of adulthood
but not quite there yet
so enjoy this moment while you still can
where you have responsibility
but don't have to fully take care of yourself,
and please don't slam the door,
you're just being dramatic.

I'll stare at them and want to scream,
but I won't,
because I'm thirteen and I know better.
I'll just walk away
and pretend I don't care,
because maybe they're right, maybe everything's fine.
But then I remember –
I remember a younger version of myself who couldn't wait to be a teenager,

Posted: 02.03.23

Feb 02

visual art challenge: Teenager

EvieC

The Great Outdoors

Posted: 02.02.23

Feb 02

poetry challenge: Teenager

rishi_jraman256

your beauty passed me by

you are like dreamscapes of luxury,
like the wealthy who reap the fruit of inheritance;
conformity that juxtaposes my contrarian eyes–
talk to me of theatre and of inadequacy,
nothing to say—i am your afterthought boy
ignore me and i’ll still memorize your every line
gaze into your starlit eyes like modern art i desperately want to understand
but can’t force into the confines of logic,
because it’s just too beautiful.

let me love you dramatic yet unrequited,
like how antonio loves sebastian;
i’ll be your pop song boy, synthwaves playing
in the rainy backdrops of my conscience,
transfigure me into awkward comments and
notes passed in secrecy,
still i am your invisible boy. fade me into the background—

when i meet her, will your mother
say i endanger you with my androgynous hairstyles,
unhealthy obsession with oscar wilde,
and the way i embrace

Posted: 02.02.23

Feb 02

poetry challenge: Teenager

Jonathan Barrows

Peace

Some say peace is written in blood,

Others say peace means seeing past brood.

Many try to exemplify it and pursue,

But the world is still covered in gore anew.

   Equality, love, and kindness are key,

Wonderful things we all aspire to be.

   One day we will all walk together,

All problems solved and joyful forever.

   Leaders and tyrants will put down their guns,

And the world will finally be one.

Posted: 02.02.23

Feb 02

poetry challenge: Teenager

Writer1326

Haunted

We all have a shadow
that follows us around,
never leaving our sides.
It's like a lost puppy,
one that trails behind us.
Except, we forget it's there,
so it's more like the slight chill
in the air on cool autumn days.
We get so used to our shadow,
that we forget it's even there.

Expectations aren't our shadows:
we don't always forget about them.
They follow us everywhere,
always in our line of sight,
constantly making themselves known.
Expectations are more like winter.
They freeze over our paths,
making us slip on the icy path of life.
They make us forget how warm we are,
covering us in a blanket of bitter air.

Posted: 02.02.23

Feb 01

poetry challenge: Teenager

hartea

My room is a mess

My room is a mess
Clean clothes are in a heap next to overflowing and empty drawers
The binder that I will reluctantly open tomorrow morning is sprawled out on my bed
My room’s a mess
Papers from last week and three months ago cover my desk and my closet is overflowing with sentimental junk I can’t force myself to get rid of
My room is a mess
But my bed is made
And it’s okay
I’ll fold my clothes
I’ll throw out the old papers
And I'll hold onto the birthday cards from 4 years ago
My room’s a mess but I’m not worried
I’ll clean it up

At least my bed is made

Posted: 02.01.23

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