His rough hands slide over smooth cherry wood,
freshly sanded to sooth his sore finger pads.
Callouses on his pumping fingers glide the blade
through the wood grasped firmly in fingers of another hand;
a hand with two band rings stacked
He takes his blade and impales the surface,
digging his trench in red.
His heart stabbed,
arteries severed; Read more »
I know what you feel
Deep down inside
Where you think it's safe
Where you think you can hide
You're scared of what you may become
The insecurity you feel makes you numb
You look in the mirror only to see
That you've become everything you said you'd never be
You hide the scars
Act like they aren't there
You know those feelings hurt
But you pretend not to care
You say you're okay
And everything is fine
But I can see that you're slowly dying inside
The past that haunts you
Won't let you be
You sit there as you beg and plead
For the memories that destroy you to just go away
You don't forget
But remember them to this day
You give God a call
But he doesn't answer the phone
And like always you feel alone
Constantly you feel the pain of your heart being shattered
And you wonder if you ever really mattered
Smile at the mirror
Trying to lie to yourself
Everyone knows you need it
But you'll never ask for help
You built up a wall without a door
You don't let people get close
Fearing they may see where your deep feelings are stored
You hate the life that you've been given
But your friends and family make this life worth living
It took you this long
To figure out that hiding your feelings
Doesn't make you strong
It tears you apart
Not just at the end
But from the start
You pretend not to care Read more »
Nothing, to be precise.
Was it me?
It was you. It was her. It was a lot of things, all mishmashed together to create some convulted mess that not even a psychologist could make heads or tails of.
Was it something I did?
Of course. It was everything you did. All the right, all the wrong. All of it.
Did I give the wrong look, speak the wrong words, wear the wrong clothes?
It was all of those, and none of them. You could have done it all right and still lost.
Was I clean enough? Did I talk too often? Too little? Did we spend enough time together?
You talked too much, and you talked too little. You spoke at all the right times, and all the wrong ones. You were well dressed, but at the same time you could have done more. As for time, well, we could all use some more of that.
Was I there too often? Was I not there enough?
You were invasive, but at times gave her space. You were a protector, but at times a bystander.
Why him? What did he do that I didn't? Read more »
do you ever stand tall in a crowd of people?... so many people
that your brain turns and your eyes spin in circles but somehow
you always end up feeling...
I want to live in the city. I want to look out my window at daybreak
at those bright beams of light
and to be reminded
of the life I've wanted to live since I was 7.
A lucky world full of chance and opportunity
A reclusive apartment full of life and color.
And every day when I walk to work
I will be surrounded by strangers.
Some I will pass more than once.
And every day I will ignore them all
and walk to my job with purpose
And every day when I return home
I will reminisce in the beauty
I'm surrounded by. But every night
when I lay alone in my bed
waiting for someone to say
I will long for something
Something I've been missing since
...I was 7.
I cannot wait for tomorrow.
Anyone else with me?
Anyone else know the feeling
you get, when
you can't wait to see someone,
you can't wait to be somewhere?
I reach for the light switch,
but I know it won't work.
Just a habit.
What will happen tomorrow?
I get halfway through the piece I'm writing
and realize that what I'm writing doesn't
represent my situation at all. It doesn't
even represent reality. It's filled with
sugar-coating and lies. And it's definitely
not what I want other people reading. It
doesn't represent me. So, I trash it, only to
try out another idea.
I didn’t know it was important. The day was just like any other. It flew by, a dandelion seed riding the wind. I didn’t think anything of it. Years later, once I learned what it meant, I was able to pull it out of the depths of my memory. Why can’t I do that with, say, a pleasant memory? I always remember the bad memories, never the good ones.
I was 4.
The memory is
Scattered . . .
Foggy . . .
The outlines of figures and shapes are
Blurred. Read more »
The earthquakes in Chili and Haiti make me wonder what I would do if I was involved in an earthquake. I think I would call out to everybody in my house. Then, I would run out of the house. If no one was outside, I would run in and get them. I would make sure I was nowhere near any trees or buildings that could fall on me. If someone was trapped, I would call for help. The earth would rumble and shake violently. It would be scary!
If I was involved in an earthquake like the ones in Chili and Haiti, I would evacuate my house and go where there is open land. I would try to bring water and food. I would think about shelter. I would help my family and others if I could. I would make a plan for the days ahead. Once it was safe, I would return home and see how much damage occurred. I would check on my grandparents that live nearby. I would start to repair my house.
I love winter. As a Vermonter, I think one almost HAS to love winter to keep their sanity here. And who wouldn't love winter? Skiing, snowboarding, snowball fights, sitting inside on a cold, dreary day with a bunch of movies or a good book. But, as a writer, I particularly love winter. Something about being frozen stiff and soaking wet just starts those creative juices flowing (who coined that phrase, anyway? If creativity came as a juice, I would definitely drink some). As the days get colder and shorter, I find that I want to write more and more. Read more »
By Courtney Perry
Bellows Falls Union High School, Grade 10
Quavering Read more »
I watch as he tucks the clothes
around his naked form,
letting material drape loosely
over his skin, and tangle with
He loves the feel of boy-jeans and
mask his curves, because
he loves to make me
look. Read more »
Now is the time
You have to do it now
You know you do
You got to
This is the only chance
The only chance you have
Time is being chewed up
As you just sit there
Wondering what people think of you
Instead of what you could do
The clock is ticking
You’re leaving it there
Like an unfinished test
For now what you need to do
Is for all to see
You’re on the spot
Oh, how you wish it was over
But you can dream about that later
All you do is close your eyes
And just do it
You soar through skies of possibilities
Your feelings go off like fireworks
When you open your eyes
Just how much potential you have
When you let go of all
All your inhibitions
All your thoughts
All your peers
All your broken self esteem
And your peers
You are proud
You are thankful for doing it
If you didn’t
You wouldn’t have ever
Experienced diving into Read more »
I, myself, have been to the crystal city on the water.
I have stood on the glass balcony which reflected back below.
I have traveled endless miles into the sky which this place sits,
Where the shows are the thunderclouds far down where we row,
Above the clouds where storms cease to exist.
I don't bother to tune in
Like an ancient radio gone out of style.
I can't help but hear the worries being confessed
I can't help but feel the vibes of affection
I can't help but imagine all those sprinting droplets are someone's tears.
I can't help but smell the salt from my own.
I can't help but touch the foggy window that reflects the sky. Read more »
I stand on the balcony of Room 232 of Chiang Mai Ram hospital, staring into the warm Thai night and thinking of everything that had happened, what it would mean in the cool, distant morning. Read more »