It was a school night at Komi's house. The family had already had dinner, so now she was just in her room doing her own thing. It wasn't quite time for her to go to sleep yet, but with the amount of anxiety she was currently feeling, she doubted if she'd even be able to.
The end of the school week was creeping closer and closer now: poem day. Monika had announced that the Literature Club members would be sharing their own handwritten poems with each other at the end of the week – that was only a few days away, and she still hadn't written anything down.
She had done some brainstorming though. Initially, she thought about doing a poem entitled, 'The Black Cat', but beyond making some basic observances about black cats using fancy language, she had no idea how to expand on that idea.
The more she thought about what it would sound like in her head, the worse the idea began to seem.
Komi shook her head and sighed to herself. Perhaps she had been too hasty in making the decision to join this club. After all, she had to make a disclaimer at the beginning that she had never written a poem before. And that sort of reading that these girls engaged in – she didn't do often.
No, she couldn't just give up! Not when she had made a commitment. All 4 girls, Yuri especially, had done their best to be welcoming to her and accommodating to her needs. She owed it to them to see this through. She owed it to herself to push past this slump.
Komi nodded to herself, a wave of determination hitting her. She decided to do some research online about writing poems. Surely, that would give her at least a place to start! So she typed 'how to write a poem' in the search bar.
How To Write A Poem: A Step-By-Step Guide For Beginners
Yes! This was exactly what she was looking for! Komi clicked on the article and began to read...
What is a poem? A singular piece of poetry. Okay, well that much was obvious to her. A poem uses words artistically and uses figurative language. Komi opened another tab and looked up the word figurative: it means metaphorical. Metaphorical means suggestive or symbolic language rather than literal.
Komi decided to dedicate a page in her notebook to writing down what she was learning. Her first note: 'Words can take on different meanings depending on how you use them. Context is important for determining meaning.' She continued reading...
Poetry expresses ideas and convey messages; they can teach lessons or draw out emotions. Short stories can be poems. Song lyrics can be poems.
Komi wrote her second note: 'Poetry is a form of self expression. It takes on many forms. The emotions you make people feel is more important than what method you use to accomplish this.'
On and on Komi went like this, writing down her observances on rhythm, rhyme, structure, and sound. Much to her dismay, she learned that poems are often written to be read aloud. That was a whole other hurdle that she would have to overcome, but she couldn't get ahead of herself just yet.
All of this information was beneficial for understanding the nature of poetry, but it still wasn't helping her decide what her poem should be about. For a moment, she considered making her poem about the process of writing poems, but her notes were more akin to a research paper rather than a suitable poem.
Besides, something like that might be either too silly or too ambitious for her first attempt at writing a poem.
Komi sighed once more. She was stumped; well-informed, but still stumped. However, she had made some progress. She was taking her first steps.
Komi nodded to herself again and pumped her fists, a second wave of determination hitting her. However, she still had to face the reality of the empty notebook page in front of her. She had already dedicated a page in her notebook to writing this poem, and she had yet to put even a single speck of ink on the paper.
Fidgeting a little, Komi reached for her phone and began sifting through her contacts. She needed help but, of course, she was hesitant to ask for it. None of her friends outside the club had much of an interest in literature, and the girls in the club all had their own poems to worry about, so where did that leave her?
Although reluctant, she decided to send Monika a text. After all, she was the one in charge of the club, so surely she'd be able to offer her guidance, right? After taking about 10-15 minutes to type her message, she sent this formal text:
"Good evening, Monika. Sorry for disturbing you at this time. If it isn't too much trouble, I need your help." She sent her request.
After the text was sent, she closed her notebook and got up from her desk. She started to make her way to her bed, but then her phone began to vibrate! She grabbed it and picked it up. Monika had replied! That was fast!
"What's up, Komi? Is everything alright?" Monika asked.
"Yes and no. I'm fine, but I am having trouble figuring out what to do for my poem this week. It is my first time trying to write one and I'm stuck." She explained succinctly. She sat down on her bed and watched for Monika's reply.
"Oh, I see! Well, you know, there's really no hard and fast rules to writing a poem. It can be anything you want it to be!" Monika explained, adding a cute smiley face to the end of her message.
"I know that, but the more I try, the less confident I feel." She admitted. After sending this message, Komi closed her eyes and took in a deep breath.
Suddenly, her phone began to ring, startling her! She jumped back a little in surprise before looking down at her phone. It was Monika! Monika was calling her now! She looked around nervously before finally mustering up the courage to answer the call.
"Ah...hi." Komi greeted her shyly.
"Hey, Komi! Sorry to surprise you, I'm just doing some stuff right now so it's easier to talk instead of text." Monika explained.
"I-I see...I'm interrupting. I'm sorry." She apologized, speaking slowly between her calculated breaths. Now Monika was getting to see why Yuri had suspected that she had some form of social anxiety; this was difficult to listen to.
"No no, you're totally fine! What's wrong? Well you said you were trying to write a poem, right?"
"Mhmm. I...don't know what to do." Komi said quietly.
"I gotcha. You don't have to feel any pressure like that, Komi, it's okay. You can always just save it for a later week once you feel more comfortable. I realize it can be awkward and even scary to put yourself out there like that." Monika acknowledged, offering Komi a more comfortable option.
"Mm mm." Komi quickly shook her head.
"Huh? If you said something, I didn't hear you."
"I...I want...t-to...try." Komi insisted.
"Okay...well then, why not start with a short poem? Just try and write down a poem that's just like 3 lines long." Monika suggested next.
"Is that...okay?" Komi asked.
"Yeah! One of the most famous poems by my favorite poet, Shel Silverstein, is literally like one sentence long!
"'So much depends upon a red wheelbarrow glazed with rain water beside the white chickens.'
"That's the whole poem!"
"I-I see..." Komi nodded slowly, resting her hand on her thigh and closing it into a fist.
"Yep! That might be a good way to start. You know, now that I think about it, is that poem actually by Shel Silverstein? Hold on, let me look it up...uh...whoops! I was wrong, haha, it's actually by William Carlos Williams. My bad, I'm not citing my sources properly." Monika joked and laughed again.
"It's alright." Komi replied plainly.
"Yeah, but you get the idea, right? Does that help any?"
"Yes," Komi answered with a nod. "Thank you."
"You're welcome! Oh! And by the way, Komi, your voice sounds super different – way different than I thought it would!" She commented.
Komi felt a lump get caught in her throat. She tensed up, unsure of how to respond to this. Luckily for her, Monika kept talking.
"I thought your voice would be like Yuri's, you know? More mature and breathy, I don't know. But your voice is cute! It's higher than I thought, so I guess it's like Sayori's! Ahaha, sorry if that weirded you out, I just couldn't help but notice." Monika said.
"Thank you...goodnight." Komi said.
"Yeah! Goodnight, Komi. I'll see you tomorrow at the meeting. Happy writing! And hey, if you ever need anymore writing tips, I've got plenty of 'em saved in the ol' memory bank – I might have to dig through some old files though." Monika joked with a giggle.
"Mhmm! Thank you. Goodnight." Komi nodded and expressed her appreciation again before hanging up the phone.
She let out a sigh and flopped onto her bed. She was feeling both excited that she had done better this time with talking on the phone, and exhausted from the concentration it took just to maintain her conversation with Monika.
The poem could wait until tomorrow...