Depression
Taking over,
It slowly drifts in.
Saddens the heart
As it quickly grows
To its full extent.
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Discovery
Belong to a ...
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I Am Ten Years Late
This selection can be found in Teen Ink Friendsand Family, the third in the Teen Ink book series, all available inbookstores nationwide and online. Continue...
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Letter
I'm sorry if it's sloppy, but I've rewritten this a hundred times,
And no matter how I word it, the letter doesn't come out right.
SoI'm leaving this the way it is, and I hope you'll disregard
My spelling, andpunctuation. Getting the nerve to write this was just too hard.
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Marcia
If I could meet you
this is what I would say -
I don't know if I
love you
...
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Mastering Silence
Silence resides in the
Stoic mountains of my mind,
Watching overthe still, dusty water.
It moves swiftly, but is never seen,
Wind thatbrushes the sides
Of the slopes with white paint.
When walking thesemountains,
Nothing will touch my ears.
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Mental Trauma
Wipe the crust from my eyes
So I can see my wounds
Brush away theblood
From the day before
I rise to my feet
My swollen eyes openwide
I slowly walk through
The blurry faces
Mindless drones
Forcedinto hatred
I take fear by the hand
As I slowly walk toward ...
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Moral Debate number 42
Carpe Diem
or was it Diem Carpe
those "moralgrounded"
corporate whores
preach to the world
but mostlythemselves?
All in dry hopes
of setting a standard -
their standard-
of who I should be,
think,
see.
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Outside My Window
His arms reached up toward the sky,
like branches of the old elmtree
that used to sit outside my window.
I yearned to cut him down,
as Ihad that tree,
to allow light into my life.
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Searches
A loud cheer echoes through the crowded stadium from the teenagespectators,
As the scoreboard now reads 27-17.
Her picture-perfect friendswith their long, blond hair
And 5'8", size 3 figures stand up andcheer.
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Season's Passion
The wind blows through her hair,
Fluttering in knots of goldenswirls
As passion trickles in the air
The light begins to fade
Passingher eyes over his
She arises to a dream
The tides of crimson ice
Driftendlessly across the bay
The moon comes to a full rise
As ...
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Suitcases
Suitcases
Filled with memories
Bursting with colors of mypast
Suitcases
Packed neatly with dreams
And prayers for herfuture
Suitcases
Dripping with tears
Flooding the moments
She wishesto forget
Suitcases
Containing thoughts
Of a childhood
She fights ...
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The Feeling
The feeling overcomes me
as I watch him from adistance. It's
the feeling that I get when his worn black sweater comes intosight:
all my worries fade.
My heart races.
My palms sweat.
I donot understand.
He is only my friend.
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The Swing
based on a painting by Jean-Honore Fragonard
With an air offlirtatious abandon,
I kick off my pink silk slippers.
Surrounded by thedark forest,
I am in the spotlight of summer sun,
bathed in glory,swinging back and forth
as you gaze at me from underneath.
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Untitled
angelo's sleeping
look at him trembling
watch as his eyesburn.
his savored existence
is shaped for him
made for him
taken fromhim.
and he's left on the side road
to wonder and wait
and slowlyunravel.
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