Nov 12

I've never seen death

i've never before seen death.

i've never heard a gunshot
and see a body fall to the floor.

i've never seen blood spill from within and soak the shirt of the victim
who will now draw their last breaths.

i've never seen a body in a casket,
and heave heavy sobs as i clutch the cold,
lifeless hand of a friend or family member.

i've never felt the deep hole in my chest,
throbbing with every heartbeat that had been taken away.

and i've never felt that pain,
deep ache
of the longing for a life to have been spared.

i don't know what people experience
when they see glass shadder and a classmate bleeding and motionless
on the floor.
i don't know how it feels
to have someone loved ripped away from the world.

yes, i haven't seen death.
i wish i never would,
but i know that it will happen.

tell me
what is it like?
Oct 02

The Confusing and Unreasonable Logic of Homework

I don't understand the logic of homework. Here are the reasons why: (please bear with me)
  1. We work for just about 6 hours at school, for those of us in elementary school, middle school, and most high schools. If we work for this long, is it necessary to go home just to return to what we should have been doing for the whole day? Yes, we do want time to practice, but classes are meant for not only teaching, but practicing this new skill as well. If you don't have enough time to actually do work and practice skills in school, and just listen to a teacher drone on for the whole period, something is wrong.
  2. Much of my time now is taken up with homework. The amount of homework that is given on a regular basis is too much. If having homework at all was a problem, now try four or five hours a night. This all leads to stress and even falling behind in school. Sometimes I suffer from stress, and that makes me irritable, frazzled, and super worried about even the randomest things.
Oct 02

Right and Wrong (The simple difference)

You are wrong when you say
"feminists cannot make change."

You are wrong when you say
I cannot be part of that change,
and contribute to something
that the world has never seen before.

You are wrong when you say
that I do things like a girl,
with that teasing tone,
when I am a girl,
and you struggled to keep up,
you struggled to go the distance.

You are wrong when you say
I'm not strong enough
I'm not brave enough
I'm not "man" enough,
when I know that I am brave and strong.
You want me to prove it?

You are wrong when you say
I did absolutely nothing
when my group just created something incredible,
changed something once considered unchangable,
conquered something that nobody has ever conquered before.
What have you done?

I know I am right when I say
I don't have to prove anything.
I don't owe you anything.
Oct 02

Who I Am Supposed To Be

What am I supposed to be?

everyone else knows who they are.
Not just their title.
What's beyond the surface.
What gives them energy,
and what makes them up.

I am the one and only human being
on this cruel world.
And I am floating.
Will I ever find solid ground?

everyone else knows just what to say
and when to say it.
Including those words that believe me,
hurt like a thousand knives.
But you know what your place is,
and so does everyone else.
So they laugh.
They stand with you.
And I am alone
because I can't find the words
that I am choking on.

I can't feel when I hurt people
who do love me.
I couldn't see that they cared.
The tears and pain...
it blinded me.
And now I have a monster inside me
that I cannot control.
So they are afraid.
Aug 10

when a storm breaks

I can't even see it.
I can't even see
the end to this emptiness.
Deep, deep.
It pulses.
It feels
as though nobody is here.
Nobody cares.
Nobody is listening.

It shows like a thundercloud
swirling within my eyes.
Flashing like lightning.
Dark clouds getting darker.
Thunder getting louder.
All sounds from around
somewhere in my mind.

I can't feel
I can't hold on
to keep from falling
like the other times.

This time I have fallen.

As thunder booms,
my fists clench.
My words lash out sharply
like bursts of lightning.
in sudden bursts.

But within,
beneath the swirling typhoon,
there is just one thing I am pleading.


Help me.

But when I can't see the light at the end,
Jun 12

The Tree

The tree,
a beautiful maple,
branches stretching towards the sun,
leaves that dance in the wind.

I couldn't see the top.
The beautiful brown bark
could be followed
to higher than anyone could go.

I had seen this tree before.
It was familiar.
Yes. I had seen it.
No recently...
but where?

There was an irrisistable urge to climb.
To reach the top.

I grabbed the nearest branch,
and started making my way,
branch after branch.
Many nights, many days.
Many years, many months.
Yet still,
I could not reach the top.
I couldn't even see it.

I climbed until my hands bled
and my arms and legs felt as if
they were bound to break at any moment.
I still could not reach the top.

I climbed
until I couldn't climb any higher.
I climbed
until I dropped from the tree.
Branches rushed by.
Days rushed by.
Jun 12

i am scared

i'm scared
that i will see our world in the future
as nothing more than ash and scattered carcasses
of those who gave up.
and i am right in the center,
another of billions,
another who gave up.
and i'm scared
because we're drawing dangerously close to
choosing to let go.
give up.

i'm scared
that i'll never be able to see my dream as a reality,
because every flicker that i may glimpse
will be distroyed by another
who dosn't give a damn.
and returns to their own separate life
oblivious to any pain or grief caused.
because when i try to share my dream,
you choose to regard it as nothing,
and return to thinking that
just because you are our "leader"
we can't change the world ourselves.

i'm scared
that my opinions
won't be taken seriously.
or tossed away
because i'm a child
and children should be seen,
not heard.
May 28

Summer Travel

May 28

hidden messages

among those jumbled thoughts
the endless ideas crammed down on the fewest pages possible,
one notebook or another,
the twisted plot of my narrative
or the rythmic poems i write...
there are hidden messages.

a warning-
a disguised true story-
a hint...
at anything really.

maybe i take a misleading route
to try to tell you how i really feel.

maybe i paint a picture of what we should be,
crying out for help, persuasion in every word.

maybe you need a little something that will lift your head,
something that will make you laugh,
something that reminds you i'm here.

maybe i have been taken
to a place far away...
beyond what's in front of us,
that inspires a message is underlying,
unreadable for some,
but still there.

with a drop of inspiration,
i hit the ground running,
and i build a new world...
May 10

i have to

They ask me if I'm ok,
and I have to tell them I'm fine.
Because they're my friends.
And they want to know.
But sometimes
I don't want to have to tell them the truth.

The truth is,
I don't know if everything's ok.
If my day hasn't been great,
does that mean something's seriously wrong?
If I have problems,
or I don't act like "myself"
does that mean you have to make it better for me?
does that mean I have to let you?
If I need some space,
will you be suspicious,
and press me even harder?

I just say
I'm ok.
I have to.

If they ask me "what's going on?"
when I flare up at dinner over something tiny,
I tell them
Because I honestly don't know.
Because I have to.

The truth is,
I honestly have no idea what is going on.
I don't know why I start yelling
or burst into tears for no particular reason.