 Ashley, 11th- Oakland, CA
It’s hard for me to look at people. I can’t seem to hold eye contact with them. I’m only a high schooler and I have to look at people when I’m talking to succeed. I’m scared, it’s hard for me. I get anxious and start to press my finger and fidget while playing around with the pencil in my hand. Walking through the hallway I always look down, never looking up, because I’m scared to look at people's faces. I wonder if my friends think I'm being disrespectful but I just feel so uncomfortable that I look away. I hate myself for making them feel like that. I wish I could look at people’s faces without feeling nervous. I wish.  Beatrice V. 9th- Los Angeles
Perfect symmetry stares back at me, the eyes of a glassy clone She lies on my windowsill, trembling from the train That passes by my dormroom every night, the fraud of city life Is the thunder I must deal with every day. I watch the clone as she moves and goes forth Reaching a hand through the glass and hovering before me I seek to grip her hand but pass through it; she looks real but Is nothing more than smoke and mirrors. Or maybe I am the clone and she is the girl; her duty To entrust me with an archaic message of sagacity An ode from the gods that watch me watch her Sitting alone in the greatest city in the world. I thought I knew the translucent girl- knew Her curls and the shape of her neck and the twist Of her smile but as she lifted the corners of her mouth All i saw were fangs.  M.O.Miesse, 9th- Washington D.C.
I wish I were a girl All the time I think about it That’s a lie, mostly only at night when I’m alone. I wish a had a smaller face and more petite body, Even just if my features were more elegant and feminine I wish I had long luscious hair that went down to my knees And I wish I was a few inches shorter, short enough to be generally short for a guy but still tall for a woman. I wish I could pull off wearing dresses that fit my frame nicely and highlighting my features I wish I wouldn’t be called he or him And I wish people wouldn’t make a big deal of me wearing makeup Saying “look at that guy, he’s so weird” or even “look at him, he’s so brave And I wish I had breasts, filling up my empty, ugly chest. I wish I was born in the right body, I wish there wouldn’t always be something off or different about me expressing my feminine self And I wish I didn’t have to think about going through the transition phase, wondering if I will be judged or thought of differently as I go through that challenging process. But sadly none of these wishes will become true, I’ll never be able to wear dresses and have hair down to my knees without it seeming off I’ll never have the smaller feminine face that I’ve dreamed of And I’ll never be quite right, there will always be something slightly wrong And correcting that will always be a long process that won’t fully work Because I was born in the wrong body, and it will never be exactly right.  Rocky Ben-Yehuda, 7th - Maryland
"I thought Iwas doing so well" You were. You ARE. You did. I really don’t like my life" And yet still you live. So don't blame yourself Just because of a bad day Because even the weather man gets caught in the rain  J.Tran, 11th - Oakland, CA
Little moments count the most. Just like how subtle changes reveal an appealing afterthought; As the rain subdued, washes away the weight from your shoulders, the earth exudes warmth tones that fill up the room like calloused brush strokes on a canvas. Sunsets of all hues begin to illuminate the sky, just like fireworks do. We create these memories as we live in the present; Not ever wanting it to end. Places where thoughts and memories intertwine. Smells where the nostalgia comes rushing back. Time that we can’t get back. A small gesture of kindness can go a long way, one that will never be forgotten amongst the sea of stormy weather. It feels good to know, there will always be the little things; sunsets, mundane tasks like washing the dishes, laughing with family and friends, and even the turbulent weather that follows. The little things, are just important as the big and monumental, they reminds us to rest, to take care of ourselves, letting the sun glisten your skin as the sounds of nature bring solace and comfort. It also reminds us that good times will come again, especially when in feelings of doubt and peril. The smallest of things like crossing a task off of your to-do list, may be bigger than you’ll ever know.  J.Tran 11th - Oakland CA
Little moments count the most. Just like how subtle changes reveal an appealing afterthought. As the rain subdued, washes away the weight from your shoulders, the earth exudes warmth tones that fill up the room like calloused brush strokes on a canvas. Sunsets of all hues begin to illuminate the sky, just like fireworks do. We create these memories as we live in the present; Not ever wanting it to end. Places where thoughts and memories intertwine. Smells where the nostalgia comes rushing back. Time that we can’t get back. A small gesture of kindness can go a long way, one that will never be forgotten amongst the sea of stormy weather. It feels good to know, there will always be the little things; sunsets, mundane tasks like washing the dishes, laughing with family and friends, and even the turbulent weather that follows. The little things, are just important as the big and monumental, they reminds us to rest, to take care of ourselves, letting the sun glisten your skin as the sounds of nature bring solace and comfort. It also reminds us that good times will come again, especially when in feelings of doubt and peril. The smallest of things like crossing a task off of your to-do list, may be bigger than you’ll ever know.  Jennifer A, 11th- Oakland CA
The pounding in my ears, The sweat pricking needles down my skin, The pressure on my chest that felt like- a construction worker layering bricks over and over and over again. Everyday, The hospital smelled- I couldn’t describe it- a nauseating scent of sick and clean, a waft of bleach coming from the sheets, a fragrance of fading flowers, beginning to grow foul and putrid. At first, I hated it. I hated- the sweat rushing down my face, That feeling- like someone had stolen my breath and all I could do is wheeze and wheeze- The way time slowed down and what felt like hours was barely even seconds Yet it grew on me. And when the flowers dried up, the room reeked Every breath I took- the deathly scent greeted me It felt as if- I was running. One last time to the end of the path.  Grey, 9th - Jackson CA
These walls are covered Covered in stories Covered in perfection Covered in lives Covered in deception These walls read tales Wonderful histories with heroes Patiently recited on a platform The stories that surround me These walls These walls only display the best things Colors and measured emotions Canvases covered with phenomenal paintings The colors that surround me These walls These walls portray existence Beautiful lives with beautiful people People who could never be hated The people who surround me These walls These walls are full of lies Twisted gossip meant to maim the soul Fresh rumors to hide the revolting splotches of gray The lies that surround me These walls The walls trap me inside Inside of a place where flaws are not permitted Untrue things are said to destroy those who have imperfections These walls are what surround me The stories The perfection The lives The deception Everything surrounding me, suffocating me Erasing, snuffing out the differences  Parker Bohl, 11th - Newbury Park, CA
The captain sat me down in the dining hall and gave me a speech. Crinkling in his hand was an ancient paper folded in fourths. Between his crooked teeth these words slipped, from pursed lips and quivering breath he spat these earnest sentences. “Look, look, look- but do not see. Write but never know, be taught, but do not learn. She will speak to ya but ya will not be interested. She will take her crown and offer it to ya, but ya will be unable to perceive its importance. When ya step yer foot off this boat, ya better’ve kept yar head. Nobody can give it back to ya if ya leave it here. The people ya will drift by and spend moments with will not care whether ya’ve maintained yar mind or not, they may even tell ya to stay away from her. Take this paper, go to the address, and do not leave until she offers ya the crown. “I ‘member when I found out about this. In my life there was hints, and it took a miracle to put it all together. I got to write a letter to her. I knew she could not send me the crown through the mail, so I decided to ask if she could give me the most valuable thing she could send. She did, and Imma give it to you. “This paper can only be seen once by one set of eyes. I’ve tried to feel the words with my hands, but that never yielded anything. The ink may have worn away, but I dearly hope it hasn’t. I don’t know what she wrote. I never will.” He put the paper into my hand and closed my fingers around it. Confused, I said “I still have another year-” He shook his head. “No, no you don’t. Fer all ya know ya die tomorrow. Nobody knows it, y’know, when your time is. I can’t believe I’ve made it this long. Ya better not take tomorrow for granted. Read this now, and go there tonight.” He stood up suddenly and I was by myself, reading this paper. I won’t write it here, as all you need to know is that it ended with an address, and what came before convinced me to go there. It wasn’t the cleanest place nor the friendliest part of town, but I was off the sea. He was right, when I started talking to her the conversation seemed irredeemably boring. After only a few days of talking I began packing. I closed my door quietly and stood softly on the steps of the stairs. The front door was lighter than I remembered and I opened it with excessive force, slamming it into the wall. My fear that this would wake her up was unfounded, as she sat on the bench outside, waiting for me. “Does not the crown intrigue you?” she breathed. This was the first time she had spoken about the crown. “I guess it does.” I replied sadly. She was not surprised. “You do not understand the reward, and you do not see the path. I am disappointed at your disinterest, but it is for myself to bear the loss of your opportunity. Not you… Are you truly leaving?” The question was harder to answer now. I had no idea what this crown was or why I should want it, nor what I needed to do to get it. I did not know if I could ever know how long I would need to stay, so I forced myself to make up my mind. “Yes, I am leaving.” “Truly?” She asked again. I hesitated- “Yes.” Of course, there was silence. She let me sink into the choice I had made with a sickening moment of regret. “Goodbye then.” I walked down the street, my next stop just around the corner. I realized I would never see her again. Even if I never get the crown, there was one question I needed to ask. I ran back as fast as I could. She was still there. I stood silently for another moment then opened my mouth. “How do I get the crown?” She stared. “You get it.” She could see in my eyes that I did not understand. “I mean, you need only to ask.” I shuffled down the block again and turned the corner. I haven’t ever gone back and I never did ask for her name. To be honest, I don’t remember the address. I’ve written this so that you can avoid my mistake. You need only ask for wisdom to get it. You need only look to find her. |