Archived work

Real
~Laila Moore 

​

Dark moments spark moments 

when we can learn to change our perspective. 

Our generation is so obsessed with attention 

we don’t get it; now we’re defensive. 

Keep it in, tell yourself we have it all together. 

Show a smile, when we are really withstanding all this pressure. Yes, we are hurt. 

See these scars underneath our long sleeve t-shirts, But you don’t know, 

You can’t see. 

Make one small joke; that still gets to me. 

I remember it all, 

You’re such a blonde, built like a wall 

But I laugh, act like I don’t care 

When I see myself, now I just compare 

To him, to her, to me, to you, 

She is prettier, these comments make me think its true 

Mentally, emotionally, physically drained. 

My mind won’t shut up, I think I’m going insane. 

Noone knows, so why should I expect them to care? Even if they did, why should they manage my psychological warfare? 

Say nothing, so then I can’t be called weak. 

Don’t want to get told I’m faking it, 

So I sit back and don’t speak. 

I’m tired, of no love, but all of this hate. 

All I think about is ending it, thinking it's my fate. 

But today that’s going to change, 

I’m going to start to rearrange, 

How I think, how I feel. 

Get out of the  . . . cycle, stick to something real

___________________________________________

​

Elisabeth Pearson

 

Not quite; Very nearly

That is the definition of “almost”

It’s quite sad really:

They almost loved you

They almost lived

They almost…

Almost

 

Almost

 

Almost

It’s controlling.

It’s a constant reminder of your failure—

You almost did it

You were almost happy 

You were almost good enough

It haunts you.

And as much as we hate to admit it,

Your “almost” will never be good enough.

​

__________________________________________

If the Roads Were Pink

~Zia Gulson

 

What if the roads were pink

not grey or black

or sparkly cement

 

what if 

sidewalks were magenta

police sirens danced in lively shades of yellow and green 

street lamps periwinkle shining serene

sunny shades so bright

they shone day or night 

 

what if the roads were pink

would the world seem less gray?

or stay

the exact same?

 

maybe 

colors not matter if that color paints a thing 

made to abuse innocence

and feed the kings

 

maybe

a color coating something 

causing sadness

famine

oppression and aggression

money misspent 

violence

destruction

silence

is not a color worth painting.

If one is crying we do not question the sincerity of their sorrow by identifying the shade of their tears.

All we see are droplets streaming and the poor person seeking

for a source to lend aid as they dry the rivers run by the damns bursted and broken by those who live not among us

but above us 

in glistening towers

built with bricks of stolen coin

stolen land

stolen souls

stolen tears 

tears

blue or grey or white or purple

or pink

still stolen 

still tears

still the building blocks of the beast

 

but let me ask you 

if the beast was not metallic 

chrome

grey

plastic

copper

steel

smog

or red

white

and blue

 

if the beast was

pink,

would that really

help you?

​

_________________________________________

 Brain  

~TRINITEE HODGE

​

Perplexed by

the way the mind works

That everyone has

the same functions

but yet some don’t work

It controls what you do 

Even if you want to fly like an eagle

The hunter shoots you down

Ouch 

It's quick to switch lanes 

Driverless because the brain you have has a mind of its own that is intertwined within

Finally gets some interaction so you

Try to come up with words but it doesn’t work maybe it’s on break

30 minutes later brains back and comes up with a response 

Stupid brain you had one job but now its to late 

People after people they pass but in clusters and you’re sitting there analyzing 

is me

nope it's my brain 

the one I’m supposed to have control of but loneliness calls

Shame, secluded, and sadness, create splotches of water from my eyes on my pillow, and if water never dried the world would run out of pillows

I don’t know what to do 

I want to do one thing but my mouth says another 

And my brain 

what does it do 

nothing

Well I guess it helps control body function 

Which is good

I guess

 on some days 

So possessive almost abusive

Physically there are no bruises but there are years of pain

Manipulating me to believe that it’s good to be alone without realizing that you’ve been alone for a while now

The fear of missing out is no longer a fear to me my brain has turned it into reality 

Now let's spin back to that mouth the one that can get you in trouble but mine doesn’t say a peep, a chirp, a growl, a roar

Yet I want to say is 

I love you

Shut up

I miss you

Notice me

I don’t want to do that 

Please stop

I’m saying this to you

Why can’t anyone hear me 

Oh it’s in my brain