Poetry

Issue 2


Paths​​
By
Gia DiGiacomo

Before me are dozens of roads
Winding, separating, and converging, repeat
I can’t see what’s in front of me
Things I thought I knew are beginning to drown in static
“Are you sure?”
“Are you sure?”
I’m not
I’m scared
I don’t know what I want to do anymore
The road I want to follow badly doesn’t exist
Another leads off a cliff
Another I think I want to follow
But then there’s the other, more stable, secure, but it feels so hollow
The others just lead to an abyss
I’m lost
And I too
am consumed by static


The Artist
By ​​
Gabe Kluchar

​ 

An artist paints on a canvas
With shades of black and blue.
Red is in the foreground
But what is he going to do?

The painting is abstract
Lines covering every spot.
If you didn’t know it was a painting,
You’d say someone got shot.

But perhaps someone did
As a girl in the crowd
Stepped forward to the painting
And started to frown.

Tears ran down her face
She grabbed the artist’s brush
And tried to paint over it all
But the pain was too much.

She has cuts and bruises
Covering every spot
But the people just stare
And wonder “Why has the artist stopped?”

The girl looks at herself
Then looks at the art.
She realizes that she is the artist
And the canvas is herself.


On Talent 
By ​​
Gia DiGiacomo​

​ 

“You’re so talented! I could never do what you do!”
Yes, you can.
Think this way, talent is like a beast you have to tame
Sure, it was easy for others, they just simply started taming their beast earlier
That doesn’t mean you can’t tame yours
Sure, they seem feral, rabid, unattainable
They’ll bite your head off before working with you
But even the most feral street cats soften with love and care
Even the most aggressive stray dog can become loyal
Just don’t give up on your beast


Days
By ​​
Dyaln Gilbert​​

As days turn night,
Your eyes glow so bright
as the light of the
fire burning in my chest.
As everything seems to get better
I seem to get worse,
as every verse that slips
off your tongue,
and down
my throat
the pins and needles punches my heart,
and the fire burning so patiently for your love.
The lights in your eyes
seem to grow more
desperate.
Not only for me,
but for the machine that'll one day
hold your child,
because I can’t see because you took
my sight
away from me.
Maybe that's why it’s so dark..
I'm forced to see
nothing but your glowing eyes
and my brightly
lit
heart.

Issue 1

I Am Not A Number
By 
Juliana Schuld 

I am not a number.
All numbers ever do is compare, right?
And that's all haters do, compare one person to another.
I look in the mirror and see a washed out portrait staring at me.
Turning my body to the side, holding in my stomach.
Thinking about the awfuls names, impaling me in the the chest and screaming in my head.
Remembering the 1,000,000 times he’d tell me that I am beautiful and he loves me no matter how I look.
Feeling knives slowly retract from my body, falling to the ground and disappearing.
My wounds healing fast and swift.
My bedroom is the one place I feel alone and safe at the same time.
I can feel beautiful by looking at the lively memories of my friends and family.
I can feel ugly when I stand in my closet, looking at my fancy, voluptuous and sybaritic clothing, thinking about my insecurities.
I remember my friends, howling at me 10 times a day to stop calling myself repulsive.
I would think about the 180 days of school being tortured by the name freak, the word would crawl under my skin, making me scream as I try to make it stop.
Chuckling about their skinny waists and their tanned skin.
Hearing their maniacal snickering, calling me a 6 than a 5.
I am not a number!
Caling me a 6 or 5 based on my face, body and clothes.
Not on my personality?
I will not be defined by my 38 waist band size!
I will not be defined by my weight!
I will not be defined about how I don’t wear make-up!
My personality is where Lorelai and Rory Gilmore are my best friends and Brendon Urie is signing This is Gospel and High Hopes.
I am not a number!
You will not compare me to a bad grade on a test.
I am not a 60%. I am 100 because I know the beauty inside that was locked away and afraid is now out.
I am beautiful in every single way as well as inside and out.
Maybe not to your standards, but I will unleash ultimate beauty by showing who I am.
Make-up is no match for what is inside
There are   2 reasons why and how we are beautiful in our own way.
We are ourselves and we will never change for anything or anyone.
You can compare me to anyone you’d like, but it won’t mean anything…
Because…
I am NOT a number.

A Dream
By Gia DiGiacomo

Last night I had a dream
Not a nightmare, not something awful
An actual dream
I remember crisp grass
I stood on a hill
Terracotta roofs amongst white stone
A clear sky and farmland as far as the eye could see
And somewhere I heard the sea
Familiar
Why?
Was I there before?
Perhaps I’ve seen similar?
From St. Augustine and Italy?
Or in a painting I glimpsed at from a store window
Even so, why did that place
Feel so much like home?

I Love You is not a Hello
By Elijah Marino

What is love? A feeling? A thought?
Nobody knows what love is or why
It exists. Is love a sickness?
Or does it exist to cause pain?

Love is one of the world’s greatest
Mysteries. But do we really want
To know what love is?
If not, then why do we go through
The trials and pain that love can cause?

In the 21st century, I love you is as
Commonly said as Hello. How can
I love you be so important if you
Say it within seconds of dating?
How can you love someone you
Just met?

Love can never be as important as
We think if we use I love you as a
Hello. What is love? To you and
Me, love is different, but the
Importance of love will always
Be the same.

I love you is not a Hello or a
Goodbye. I love you should be
The most important thing you
Say, not the second thing out of
Your mouth. What is love? Does
Anyone know?

I Don’t Need Drugs
By Jaki Prusak  

I don’t need drugs to get high.
                               I have a swing.
I don’t need drugs to get away.
                              I have dreams.
I don’t need drugs to laugh.
                              I have friends.
I don’t need drugs to have fun.
                              I have bubble wrap.
I don’t need drugs. I’m above that.
                             And so are you.


My Reflection
By Haylea Cummings
 

I see her from my window all alone.
Freezing cold outside, just crying.
I want to help her, but I can't.
I want to see what's wrong, but she runs,
Still freezing and crying, I try to run after her
But she just disappears.
I go back home.
I go up to my window.
She's there again, but this time,
She’s not crying
She’s just looking at me.
I wave to her, she waves back.
I run down stairs to go talk to her,
But she's gone
I go back upstairs and I go to sleep,
Wondering where she's gone.
I look out the window
And remember it was me.