2

Acknowledgments
On August 18, 2006 33 years to the day that I began my first job in newspapers
I left journalism to launch Young Writers Project as an independent non-profit. In the
first two weeks I built youngwritersproject.org and waited, impatiently, for something to
happen. Two days later, I watched as the very first student post appeared. It was breath-
taking. It was magic.
Since then, of course, YWP has grown so much:
youngwritersproject.org now has 2,000 active teen users;
\orks ol 1,000 sudcns erc uhlishcd ce.h ycer in 19 ncvsecrs end on Vll,
1hc Y\l S.hools lroc. - rolcssionel dcvcloncn lor ce.hcrs end e uniquc
digital classroom platform is now used in 63 schools; and
Y\ls ncv vriing .cncr, .ellcd NxN, hes ocncd in Burlingon
Y\l hes e sell ol hrcc loug lceio, Susen lcid end lec Scin, vho sherc e
ession lor hcling young colc lcern hov o vric hccr And e grou ol cxreordi-
nery ce.hcr .oe.hcs lehy lollcy !elso hoerd .heircrson, Cindy leughnen, ler.ic
Ahhcnc !vhos rcurncd o hc .lessroon end Ni.k Brooks
Y\l hes ere.cd hundrcds ol colc o hcl lcolc likc lise Vcnriss, 1in Volk,
Seigc levis end erk vendcrHcydcn - lcedcrs ol hc Vcrnon Busincss loundehlc -
vho sev Y\ls ocniel end u in le.c e vo-ycer lounding gren
And so neny ohcrs vhovc donecd noncy, idces, edvi.c, volunccr hours, .ri-
iquc end cn.ouregcncn Schcn licrnen, Berhere Cenlcy, ohn Cenning, 1on Cerl-
son, levc lcncrs, hc lec Hessc Hellcy, Boh Scvcns, Bohhc lcnningon, cll lucnhc.k,
lercn Ye.os, oc Seno, Vel Cerdncr, e lunnc, clenic lohcrs, Chris Bohelien, lcc
Suhcrlend, Alen S.hillhenncr, Susen Cross, erhe eksyn, lrik ls.kilscn, Virginie
lohcrs, cg Snih, i.hecl ehon, Bill S.huher, Sehine Heskcll ln us gcing
verncd u hcrc, lolks Sere Queylc, Suzennc !Bcsc Cerriy, Suc liniz, Bcsy loscn-
hluh, cssi.e Nordheus, Bridgc lvcrson, enc Svil, lu.y Conso.k-Cey, lorccn lrel,
lise lelieno, erk Nesh, lcc .lsee., lcuhcn e.kson l .ould go on end on, hu ln
ou ol roon And cvcn il l .ould lill hc ncx vo, livc, 10 egcs vih nencs, l rohehly
would still forget people. So to all of you, thank you. And thank you again.
loud eleusc o Susen lcid, e rolcssionel .ollceguc in vo livcs nov, vho u
ogchcr his hook, our hcs yc, end o hc cen shc rc.ruicd, in.luding ley 1urncr,
lven \ing, lehy lollcy, loug lceio end e grou ol sudcn rcedcrs, hc dcsigncr,
Andrce Crey, end hc nescrlul Quccn Ciy lrincrs
u.h greiudc o our neor lundcrs Crccn ounein Collcc loescrs, ln., leir-
loin Connuni.eions, Al Hcndcrson loundeion, enc B Cook Cheriehlc 1russ,
lhysi.iens Conucr Coneny, \illien locr, Chenlein lnvcsncn lerncrs, Any
l 1erren loundeion, lnicd \ey, ein Srcc lending, lengvecr lenily loundeion,
end Vcrnon Connuniy loundeion vho hclicvc in us end hc young vricrs
And our dcdi.eion 1hc Bey end leul loundeions loundeions rcsidcn lrcd
Bey hes e ession o srcnghcn sudcn voi.c, o .hengc hov sudcns erc eugh end o
disru hc seus quo lor hc sekc ol osiivc .hengc Hc, his sell end hc loundeions
hoerd erc su.h e vondcrlul erncr in his invigoreing cx.ursion l henk hcn lor hcir
humor, insight and generosity without which we would not be what we are today.

- Ccollrcy Ccvel, Y\l dirc.or end loundcr
3
This work is dedicated to
The Bay and Paul Foundations
which believes that to produce change
you must help young people
find their voice.

4
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5
Introduction
By Schcn licrnen
Ccnurics ego, ncvs .enc hy rouhedour, es vendcring ninsrcls hrough elcs o
new places in song. Likewise history lessons occurred in stories, whether delivered at
e uhs lircsidc or in hc nevcs ol .hur.hcs Bclorc hc invcnion ol hc rining rcss,
stories and poems were how people learned.
Today, using contemporary communications tools, the Young Writers Project sus-
eins hosc grend rediions Vcrnons ncvs errivcs in ocns end sorics end od.ess
he rengc lron hc highcs llighs ol len.y o hc dcccs cxenineions ol scll
1hc Vcrnoncrs vho eri.iec in Y\l, ollcring hcir vork end .rii.el rcsonscs
to one another in a civil environment, understand the pleasures of participation. Having
a place to show your creativity, and seeing others value your ideas and language these
cxcricn.cs erc ri.h end indclihlc
ln deys es, hc cllcrs rcverd nigh hc e ncel end e le.c o sey 1odey vc knov
norc ehou hc ou.oncs ol cllc.ivc scll-cxrcssion hccr s.hool crlornen.c, suc-
rior preparation for the workplace, and enhanced capacity to participate in a democracy
hescd on lrcc scc.h Also, likc sers on e vincrs nigh, soncincs hcrc erc serks ol
hrillien.c, vhi.h vc rc.ognizc vih e nixurc ol oy end evc
Y\l hes vincsscd neny serry noncns, es housends ol young Vcrnoncrs hevc
vricn hcir vey ino ncv gelexics 1hc hcs oncs ecer in ncvsecrs, end hc nos
in.endcs.cn .onrisc hc ennuel enhology likc his, Y\ls lilh
What will you learn in these pages, from these minstrels and town criers? That this
secs young colc hevc elcr end e.ivc ninds 1he hcy scc .lcerly end scek vih
courage. That they are providing one another with a safe place for fresh, wild ideas in
a manner that adults would be wise to emulate. That they are smarter, and funnier, and
norc .lcvcr, end norc lull ol siri hen you vould cxc.
lrev ncer 1hcrc is ncvs 1hc lircs vern
Stephen Kiernan is an award-winning journalist and author. His first novel, 1hc Curiosiy, was
recently published to great critical acclaim. Stephen has been a YWP board member since the organiza-
tions inception.
6
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I promised you I would always be your
little girl
with a flaming imagination and
cx.icncn lor lilc
Bu you lccl nc sliing evey ino hc
world,
I know you do,
so you open your arms for an embrace,
hoping I will look back over my
shoulder
and run to the safety of your love.
You try to hide your tears as I struggle,
life shoving me off a cliff, me barely
holding on.
Bu you snilc e ny su..csscs,
knowing it will all make sense in the end.
All you can do is watch from the nest
as I fly away free, but still frightened.
And vhcn i sccns likc ln no good
enough,
l vill elveys knov ln crlc. o you,
it kills you to think about the horrors of
life,
the judgmental critics commenting on
everything you love about me.
Bu l hevc o lcern nyscll,
cxcricn.c, lccl
Youvc scn your lilc roc.ing nc
ls inc o lc go
The makeup I smear on my face
covers up the special features only you
know are there,
hc lrc.klcs shecd likc hc Big licr,
the birthmark on my chin,
and my smaller left eye;
you hate it, trust me, I know.
lilc isn cesy enynorc
I wish I were little again
and could cuddle up against you,
listening to your heart pound against
your chest.
So thank you for being my safety net
as I jump out into the world.
ln no your lilc girl enynorc,
but when life scares me away from my
dreams,
I will always come running home
to your warm embrace.
, &'-*
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I like dogs.
I like dogs on a grassy field.
I like dogs on a grassy field with red
collars.
I like dogs on a grassy field with red
collars and pink leashes.
I like dogs on a grassy field with red
collars, pink leashes and stubby tails that
wag.
I like dogs on a grassy field with red
collars, pink leashes, stubby tails that
wag and floppy ears.
I hope you heard me because I like dogs.
7
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Please
lcesc don lcel nc
All you say is we need to branch out,
we wooden be good for each other.
Yew
yew with your need to be poplar,
board without sprucing up everything.
Sometimes you make me sycamore.
You sev his .oning You excd lor i
You say
you sey is ny dc.iduous,
he ln hc roo ol hc rohlcn,
that all I am is shady,
that I should just leaf.
l, l voodcn hevc cxc.cd his
What did you think I was fir?
Your amusement?
ln suncd
Bu l vill go ou on e linh
to try to please you, so
please
lcesc don e.k your runk,
lcesc don lcel nc
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There once was a bee. He was just like any other bee, covered in yellow and
hle.k luzz end ncsncrizcd hy hc sigh ol honcy
Bu hcrc ves onc hing he nedc hin send ou - his drcen o hc.onc hc
Honcy Nu Chccrios hcc Youd hink he his vouldn hc so herd, hu in le., i is
Any bee that is chosen for this role is taken to a secret facility where he learns
hc er ol Chccrios seving Hc is ncvcr ehlc o rcsign, end hc nus hc edc in
lnglish, Senish end huzzing
Bu his hcc ves undcr hc niserchcnsion he i ves ell lun end gencs Hc
didn rcelizc hc crilous ourncy hc vould hevc o cndurc hclorc hc ves cvcn on
.encre 1hc old Chccrios hcc hed dicd in e lrcek lly-sveing e..idcn eny hccs
hed .onc hclorc his hcc, hu youvc ncvcr hcerd ol hcn lnov vhy` 1hcy ncvcr
made it to the first ad.
1hcrc erc sri. rulcs es o hov you nus e. end look o hc hc Chccrios
hcc Nunhcr onc, you nus hc lull ol cncrgy - lchergi. hccs ercn cvcn lc ino
eudiions Nunhcr vo, you nus no shor-shril sudying your lincs - he vill
rcsul in inncdiec disnissel Nunhcr hrcc, you nus hc .onncndehlc - you
nus ncvcr lic, scel Chccrios or ce hc honcy
1his lilc hcc rcsuncd he hc hed vhe i ook o hc hc ncx Chccrios hcc,
so hc sercd clling his lenily end lricnds he hcyd soon scc his nenc on orengc
.crcel hoxcs lnlorunecly, hc rodu.crs ol hc Honcy Nu Chccrios eds didn
think so.
The poor little bee was cut short right in the middle of his audition. He left the
studio dejectedly and was sad the whole way home.
His siris vcrc lilcd vhcn hc go en uncxc.cd honc .ell hc ncx dey
He had been chosen to be a bush! The little bee had finally made it into show
husincss, end hc .ouldn vei o scc his nenc in hrigh lighs
9
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Long ago, I used to have a completely different life.
l hed o vork cvcry dey in hc hlezing hce, l did no gc en cdu.eion, end l uscd
a bathroom outside of our house.
I was just a little girl. I was that little girl with a dying brother. I was that little girl
who was afraid of the dark. I was that little girl whose daddy left her.
I was many things long ago, and I am still many things today. Today, I still work
every day. Today, I get a wonderful education, and today, I get a bathroom inside my
housc l en sill e lilc girl o ny non, hu l en us e girl No e lilc girl, us e girl
I am a girl who has four live, healthy and annoying brothers. I am that girl who
has a father who loves her, and I am that girl who is no longer afraid of the dark.
Long ago I used to have a somewhat different life than I do now. I was a girl then,
I am one now, and I will always be one.
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lvcr sin.c hc egc ol vo end e hell,
ohn Hocr dcvclocd e .ursc
lvcry vord he hc ucrcd sin.c hcn
had been in a strict rhyming verse.

Oh, s.icniss revcd e hc hoys rhyning
speech.
Some called him a madman, insane,
but when they looked closer, it was a
surprise
that nothing was wrong with his brain.

Then why did he rhyme? Was it some
sort of trick,
a cruel and unusual joke?
lon hcering his, ohn hrokc ou in e
speech
as always, he rhymed as he spoke.

This was not my doing I swear to the
Lord!
ld so rhyning nov il l .ould
Bu is neurel, scc - l .en so neking
verse!
l sccns lll hc rhyning lor good

His parents were saddened by this whole
ordeal,
the fact that their son spoke in rhymes,
for the bad side came out when he spoke
round the house
and was deathly annoying at times.

\hcn hc hed o sey us e 'ycs or e 'no,
he had to say something much more,
lor ce.h hing hc seid ves e senze e
least,
vhi.h rovcd e quic crrihlc horc

ohns ercns old hin o so elking
at all
and tried to get help so to see
if they could find something to stop this
odd speech
a miraculous remedy.

At last they found someone, a wiry old
man
who said that he knew what to do.
He looked the boy over again and again
and cooked up a strange-looking stew.

lrink his, seid hc nen l vill hcl
you, I know!
Youll no longcr hc duhhcd e 'lrcek
So ohn .hokcd dovn hc scv, .oughcd
a little, and then
he spoke for the first time in weeks.

Well, that stew tasted kind of weird,
end ny hced docsn sccn o hc .lcercd
\hes his - lll hc si.k
This is a limerick!
Oh Cod, his is vorsc hen l lcercd
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If only I could go on more
trips with my family,
if only I was taller I could
touch the monkey bars,
if only I could
rced in ce.c end quic,
but those are only
il onlys
11
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eyhc i ves hc lrenk
Sinatra ballad playing
in the background, or
the rain dripping tears down
my window, but today was a
disheartening day.

Like when I was driving home,
l don knov vhy, hu hc nelc
rccs he didn hevc lcevcs
!so euscrc end yc, so honcs
reminded me of my childhood.

And as a kid, I used to build forts.
They were strange creations,
stones stacked on top of one another,
dead leaves stuffed between the cracks.
And when I look back on it,
each moss-stricken stick
precariously placed
represented each bone in my
awkward body.

You see, I wanted to create myself,
build each wall custom-made
and top
it off with a roof.

And denn i, vhy .ouldn
l, vhy .ouldn l hc.onc
an individual?

So this, ladies and gentlemen,
is why today is a disheartening day,
is why today is just a day
to watch the rain drip down windows,
is just a day to climb dead trees
before winter comes,
a day to stack
sticks and stones
under a spruce tree,
over the dead leaves.
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So l ves likc elking o hcr, end ell e suddcn ie velks u hchind nc, end shcs
likc, '1ekc his, you idio, end shc sles nc, end ln ell, '\he hc hc.k` hu shc us,
likc, velks evey, end
y cx .onvcrseion gocs on end on, hlisslully oinlcss, hu srengcly seislying
I always say that friends are better through a phone, and I live like it.
l herdly cvcr scc ny hcs lricnd enynorc hc.eusc l don nccd o Shcs righ hcrc
in my pocket.
1odey ny non seid l should gc ousidc, so nov ln velking eround dovnovn,
vih ny cycs glucd o hc ncsncrizing glov ol ny honc, vhi.h l hold rcvcrcnly,
likc is e holy erile.
My thumbs hammer away, sending every little thought I have out to my
Bll Soncincs, l .en cvcn quic rcncnhcr vhe shc looks likc
I find myself wandering up Main Street, and crossing it without looking up. In the
background, I hear some honking and the screech of tires. Whatever. I walk into the
mall and wander through the crowds. They all get out of the way so as not to hit me.
Ol, he vorks
1hcn, l suddcnly rcncnhcr sonc rcelly good gossi he l us hevc o cx ny
friend about. My fingers are a blur, and I unconsciously speed up my pace in my
cx.icncn us es ln ehou o scnd i, l .onc o e .orncr end ser o urn, hu sonc
other person is there at the same time, and wham, we collide.
My phone is knocked out of my grip and falls to the floor with a horrid
crunching sound. I scream and dive after it. The screen is shattered and the battery is
hrokcn l .hokc he.k e soh end look e hc dunny he .reshcd ino nc ls e girl,
ehou ny egc, glering e nc end holding hcr !elso hrokcn .cll honc in hcr hends
1hcn hcr cxrcssion .hengcs e hi ino sonching e lilc norc likc .uriosiy OC ls
her.
Hcy l shou, uning u end droing ny honc l ves us ehou o cx you
l ves us ehou o cx you shc seys 1hcn shc uns u end us hcr ern
around me. I grin and start telling her about that gossip I so desperately wanted to
share.
\hcn l linish, l lind he i is cvcn norc seislying in crson hen cxing No
way! We walk through the store, yammering nonstop. On the floor behind us lie two
forgotten, busted phones.
13
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us ehou 700
every evening
about as regular as a
clock ticking
or the heartbeat of an
old and weary man
us elcr dinncr
standing at the sink and
looking into the
ancient darkness
and me looking back
reflected in the light of
the kitchen

us s.ruhhing his en
and these five plates
shine a fork here
and splash the water over
a spoon

us eround hcn
I get hit with the blues
l hevcn go hc slighcs
idea why
no clue as to the reason I get
hit with this sudden heartache
and

I want to sit right down
on the kitchen floor
!neyhc is hc.eusc ki.hcn lloors hevc
always been
selc
and hug my knees and
weep

l don knov vhy Bu, neyhc
l do !lll hidc lron i cvcry .hen.c l gc
hough

I miss you
ln cny end ell his vecr
just sounds like
tears.
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1his is ny siscr Henneh You look e hcr lor hc lirs inc, rohehly vouldn
noi.c enyhing dillcrcn ehou hcr Bu shc is dillcrcn, es ell ol us erc Henneh hes
autism.
The fact that she has a label might change your opinion of her. I know her for
vho shc ruly is Shc hes en enezing ncnory end singing voi.c Shc .ercs dccly lor
ohcrs he shc .ercs ehou or docsn rcelly knov Shc .rics, yclls end leughs us es
cvcryonc in his vorld Shc nekcs nc leugh vhcn ln sed Shc ennoys nc likc eny
sister or brother would do.
I love her so much. She sometimes says she wants to be normal, but I say, You
.en hc nornel hc.eusc nohody is nornel lvcryonc is dillcrcn
Shc hes euisn 1he docsn .hengc ny vicv ol hcr end i shouldn inllucn.c
yours. If you get to know my sister, you will love her for who she is, not what she has.
I took this picture on May 31, 2013, at a Special Olympics Unified Sports Bocce Tournament. As a
storm rolls in, Hannah is fighting back. She is not letting the world decide who she will be. Hannah, I
love you so much! Keep fighting the storm!
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I love you,
I love you so much.
1hc hing is, is hlind lovc
I love you, but I might not trust you
fully.
I might be a bit shy when I see you,
but that is because I never get to see you.
lcelly, hc only inc l gc o scc you is
once a year.
ln sorry,
ln sorry he l nigh no rcsond o
your email or your phone calls,
but sometimes my mind is a little off.
ln s.ercd,
I admit it.
ln s.ercd hc.eusc l don knov you,
because I love you,
and because whenever I finally begin to
warm to you,
you have to leave.
And go back.
And I cry because of guilt.
I could be a much better daughter.
And I miss you.
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Piloting the black glass seas,
you search for housecats on the shores
hcir cycs ovcrcxoscd likc sel lighning
Cuing ino hc log vih glcening hull,
you are white-skinned on the wheel,
scars purple in the cold,
but this is your ship and she knows you
and your earnest touch.

She has held patiently her doors for you
while you hurled from the bow;
she has borne the tempests
and all the tears.

You sail home from mending bridges,
holding your heart, salvaged from the
floor,
dusty and bruised; you will take care of
it
even when no one else will.

The sea is calm
and you sleep with the swells.
This is your ship; she knows you as no
one else does
and you can drift with her
towards shore.
16
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l dicd ny quill ino ny ink, end hcgen
to write some more.
My paper had long run out, but I
continued across the floor.
I heard a crunch, and looked hopefully
around.
Maybe they had finally come to tell me
to get off the ground.
A child, eyes huge as plates, stood in the
doorway frame.
Hcllo, l .ellcd Hevc you .onc o ekc
nc honc egein`
The frightened girl turned and left, going
at a run.
I continued in my writing, for they
vould cll nc vhcn ln donc
The light was dimming as the sun got
sleepy, falling from the sky.
I must continue writing, so I lit my lamp
that could never die.
At last the sun rose once more, high over
the eastern hills,
Illuminating the crumbling, creaking
forgotten mills.
l shilcd end on.c norc, l hcerd e .hilds
step.
This time, a girl and boy stood in the
door; I yearned to play, but to my
writing I kept.
\hy erc you hcrc` l hcerd e iny,
wavering voice; her feet inched over the
floor.
I wait until they come and tell me I do
no hevc o vric enynorc
\ho erc hcy` e holdcr voi.c reng ou
My mother and my father, and my
ce.hcr issus 1rou
\hy erc you drcsscd so lunny` eskcd
the straightforward boy.
\he do you ncen o sey` l eskcd No
nccd o hc .oy
You erc hc onc drcsscd lunny, l
continued, pointing at the girl.
Your shoes are pink, and you show off
ell he skin o hc vorld
Yourc vriing vih e quill, end your
drcss is rcelly old
lvcryonc vrics vih e quill, l snillcd,
he was getting a bit too bold.
The two of them had left me then,
running away in fear.
I guess it was a calling mother that I so
longed to hear.
They never did come back, not even after
years.
1hc ink ves runny end vcird, nixing
with my tears.
I guess this is my punishment, for
something I know not of.
A forever loneliness, hugging me like a
glove.
lor l en hc lorgocn vricr, ve.hing es
centuries pass.
Writing and waiting for a long gone
teacher of a long dead class.
17
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I have secrets in my head,
a nest of promises and dread,
a spinning orb of words and thoughts.
1cll e singlc soul lll no
A sorys vhiscrcd,
a tale is told,
truth unravels, pure as gold.
A pinky promise,
en l von cll,
yet, promises can break like shells.
Bu l von hc hc onc o hrcek,
a slipped word,
a clever mistake,
for secrets are not to be shared;
lll zi ny lis, rccnd l .ercd
And cll enyonc` lvc ncvcr dercd,
for broken shells are to be spared.
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Outgrowing your favorite shoes,
lucky sweater
or well-worn jeans.
Hair traversing blonde,
red and raven.
All signs of growing up;
but not the symptoms.
Storing the mementos of childhood
away on a shelf,
the world seems to shrink.
Age speeding up to meet you
vih is grizzly cnhre.c
The shine of innocence
and the wonder of youth
all start to dim.
lcllc.ions eround you shil
and change.
The pedestals upon which
all your heroes stood
start to crumble.
All those childish gods
lose their wings.
You discover what everyone else
has known for years.
Our world is one lacking in heroes.
Lacking in reason
or rhyme.
And once something has been seen,
is inossihlc o lorgc
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l ocn hc .oos squceky door
I pass the rooster sleeping in a feathery
mass.
He opens one eye, then closes it,
dc.iding he ln no e hrce
At the laying area, I reach in
the tiny room with the mother hens,
white, brown, spotted,
sleeping on the side.
Waiting for a peck,
but nothing happens.
l .oun 1 2 5 4
four eggs.
My trembling hands gently pick them
up.
They feel cold, chilling my fingers
in hc elrcedy lrcczing vincr
Cerclul no o dro hcn,
I walk inside,
ready for omelets!
L"88& ?$1"
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lor nc, insireion .oncs vih rein, ell scelcd u in hc hin, shinncry skin ol
ce.h dro, hcn sreying, cxloding, ou ol hc nillions ol dcli.ec cn.escncns
I love the smell right before a storm, lingering, waiting for the clouds to reach
breaking point, a deluge hovering right around the corner. The unpredictability of
i \ill hcrc hc hundcr olling ou hc sc.onds` Or vill i hc hercly e drizzlc, only
a few drops here and there, just enough to be vaguely annoying? Or, sometimes, it
comes down so hard, it literally looks like sheets of water are falling from the sky, each
droplet bouncing off the already soaking pavement and creating rivers in the streets.
lein nekcs nc ven o den.c hercloo in hc niddlc ol hc srcc end no .erc il
ny .lohcs gc vc, end us lccl young 1o lccl likc cvcryhing is Ol lein nekcs nc
want to write.
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lndcr hc inllucn.c ol insireion, e
llccing hough cncrs end cxis hc
mind, soundlessly traveling past due
time. The remnants of unborn speech
reside here:

When stars collide, you and I will align
under the dark pitter-patter of infinite
time.
\cll usc hc ncgeivc se.c es our negi.
carpet ride
and redeem lost time for a moment of
quixoi. ridc
Bu hc Behylon .endlcs ligh runs lov
Ineffective emotions neither die nor grow.
Let me carry you home, where these
dreams will rest
and sing to your soul a song I confess
is the beat of our hearts, sweet on the
ears yet hard on the truth,
an elephant melody once heard from
our youth,
sonching ehou hcrocs, vcll den.c o
the reprise,
and continue living with this
interminable disease.
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Your face is nice.
No, no, hes vrong
ln,
can I try again?

Your, um,
your, you know,
your...
Ol, us givc nc onc norc .hen.c

Your eyes
are like a lake of the purest water.
I find myself staring into them and
feeling
like swimming.
Wait, what did I just say?
ln
One more chance, please.
l ronisc l von s.rcv his u egein

Your face is brighter than the sun,
so much that it hides
when it sees you
because the sun is too self-centered to
admit
that you would have been better at his
job.
!Hcs gled you didn ely

Your eyes are
a deep blue pool of wisdom
and anyone who says that pretty girls
.en hc sner
has obviously never had the pleasure of
meeting you.

Your smile brings me back,
wakes me up,
keeps me alive,
keeps me smiling, too.
ls inlc.ious
Like a disease...
of happy!

Am I doing this right?
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24
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I could not live without my flaws one in particular, as it has taught me a lot
about myself.
At 15, I was told that I have an eating disorder. I was five foot, three inches and
vcighcd hcvccn 95 end 98 ounds
At first I did not believe it.
I had been eating: two clementines for breakfast, an apple for lunch and about
e gellon ol vecr ovcr hc .oursc ol hc dey \he l did no rcelizc ves hc denegc
l ves doing o ny hody end e he oin, l did no .erc Boh on hc insidc end hc
outside.
I started getting really bad pains all over; my bones were breaking left and right.
lvcry inc l lookcd in hc nirror l old nyscll, You .en hevc hoh .lcncnincs
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25
odey, hc.eusc sonc er ol nc ves higgcr hen vhe l vencd i o hc 1hc disordcr
ves eking ovcr nc, end l hed no .onrol ovcr i lor elnos e ycer, l ves in end ou
ol hc hosiel Coing lron do.or o do.or On end oll ncdi.eions l hed hlood cs
after blood test to make sure that I was not doing any more serious damage than what
I had already done.
Nonc ol i socd nc lron ny veys
When my counselor told me that my friends and family that did not know about
my problem would start wondering, I finally thought about changing. And I did. I
ate four clementines, a bagel with light, non-fat cream cheese, two apples and half as
much water. That diet only made me worse.
l ook enohcr six nonhs, vhi.h lcd us ino sunncr, vhcn l scnd 90 cr.cn
of my time in my bathing suit. People at the beach would look and stare. Which made
nc hink he sonching lookcd hed end l hed o so ceing o lix i
y lricnds elveys i.kcd on nc ehou hov l lookcd Bu egein, vhe l did no
rcelizc ves he colc vcrc looking e hov snell l ves And ny lricnds vcrc no
picking on me because I looked fat, but because I was too small. You could see and
.oun ny rihs, end il l su.kcd in ny sone.h !vhe lilc hcrc ves end urncd
sideways, you may not have been able to see me.
I went for more help. With my doctor, I set up a diet plan. With more than what I
had been eating. My counselor told me that I needed to be positive towards my body.
Curvcs erc good A lilc loosc skin ncvcr killcd enyonc end e iggly hu ves nornel o
have.
It was so hard thinking those things because I had trained my brain to think the
opposite. So I took it into my own hands and left sticky notes everywhere that I could
scc ny rcllc.ion Ni.c .urvcs, Yourc hceuilul, lcc i u, gorgcous, ell snell
words of wisdom to myself. Today, I weigh 110 pounds and feel healthier than ever.
Without my biggest flaw, I would have never been able to see the beauty of
myself on the inside and how important it is which, for teen girls, is very important,
especially with the judgmental society that we live in.
I love my eating disorder for changing me. Sometimes the old thoughts about my
body come back. I can deal with them in a positive way now.
26
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l rcncnhcr hc nigh Crcnc gevc hirh so vcll l hed hccn .hc.king on hcr ell dey
l kc e.ing hc hernyerd, ki.king hc dir lloor l ves Crcncs lirs inc giving hirh,
end l ves ncrvous l .ouldn vei lor i o hc ovcr so l .ould so vorrying
A 750 n, hcr vecrheg hrokc, end shc vesn rogrcssing ll e hirh is going
well, a lamb presents with front legs and head forward and is born shortly afterward.
1his lenhs nosc ecercd vih is onguc henging ou 1hc lcgs vcrc ullcd he.k,
vhi.h nedc hc shouldcrs hlo.k hc .crvix
I had been waiting for this day a long time. I had decided I wanted to assist.
1hc long lesi. glovc .re.klcd es l u i on ny righ hend y ded squircd e hluc
lubricant known as Superlube onto the glove. Shakily and slowly, I inched forward
end kncl o u ny hend ino Crcncs hirh .enel l lcl likc leve, so ho end vc l
.ould lccl hc lenhs hced end .hin l ves so enxious ny cycs vcrc singing l .ould
scc hc lenhs onguc ves sering o urn hluc end kncv hc siueion ves hc.oning
very serious. I asked my dad to take over because he has been assisting ewes giving
hirh lor neny ycers y non hcld Crcnc es ny ded u on e glovc end luhc end
reached in. Dad hooked one leg and brought it forward, thinking it would be enough
to pull the lamb out, but the lamb was really stuck. The shoulders were too broad.
y ded ullcd end viscd, hu i ves no good \c .ould scc hc lenhs onguc
ves urning urlc end l hough i ves going o dic led hed o ush hc lenhs hced
back in the birth canal and hook the other leg. Time kept slipping away. Seconds felt
like hours. It seemed to take forever.
linelly, led ullcd end hc lenh slid ou l lc ou e sigh ol rclicl vhcn l rcelizcd
hc lenh ves elivc \c u hcr ncer Crcncs le.c so shc .ould li.k hcr dry 1hc cvc
lenh sercd .elling o hcr nohcr es Crcnc li.kcd hcr oll l .ould scc Crcnc ves
cxheuscd, shc ves lying on hcr sidc, ening end yevning Shc ves enezing Shc kc
li.king end .elling o hcr lenh \c nencd hc lenh Chei Crcnc vih Chei
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His death passed uncelebrated for what
he was,
just a chipmunk, a possum,
but a symbol of life, of greener grasses,
of time when the world slows and time
passes
vih .erclcss drcening queliy
He was what we needed
to pull us through, when giving up
was imminent in our minds,
a glimpse of light, of working flesh
at a time when even our own bodies
didn sccn o cxis
He would steal his way into our cabins,
our minds,
in the dark of night, taking little pieces of
our hearts
as he went with little paws and a
treasure
ol Nuclle or cenu hucr .re.kcrs
Our right minds would have evicted him
and patched the hole in the door.
Bu hcsidcs hc lyvood, hc .hcvcd
little holes into our hearts.
And muscle is more difficult to patch
than wood.
We let him come in the night,
leaving small trails for the forgotten
to follow along for a while.
We would listen to the light sounds, and
smile
at the idea of simple completion and
contentment.
He stopped coming after a time.
We never found him, but we knew
as our muscles patched little holes.
\c e.kcd hc lood in hoxcs,
and moved on, kept going.
With a heavy thought we closed our
minds
to the little paws, and symbols,
and holes
we patched with silence.
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If I had three wishes, my first wish would be to own the fastest four-wheeler
made that could go through almost anything, get over almost everything, and would
have tracks that I could put on so I could ride it even in the winter.
My second wish would be to own a huge jacked-up truck with 52-inch tractor
tires that would rarely break, no matter what, and could also go through anything!
My last wish would be to have a huge log cabin out in the middle of nowhere
with hundreds of acres to hunt and go riding on.
28
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lcer Bully,
Do you remember me? It was a long time ago, almost too long to count. I was not
your first victim, but not your last either.
I was a small kid with a strong body but a weak mind. You singled me out at
lunch; I was sitting alone as I am now and proceeded to throw every insult you
could think of at me, your stupid friends laughing and cheering as you walked
away. I remember them still, like a scar that never fully disappeared. Retard, fag, loser, I
remember. I still have the marks on my face from being slammed into my locker by a
bunch of your friends.
I still look you up to see what happened after seventh grade when you left, where
you vcn, vho ves your ncx vi.in l hink l lound you living in louisiene, in e
small town, captain of the football team.
I still hope you remember me, because out of everything in my life, you changed
me the most whether for better or for worse.
You taught me that the world is not all warm and happy and that there is an
undcrsidc o cvcry sonc So, lor hccr or lor vorsc, l henk you lilc vouldn hevc
been the same without you.
- lB
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I spent today falling
down the stairs
over my feet
back into
the state of mind in which
I grow to miss
the way things used to be.

lvc lound nyscll
searching
for old connections bridges
that have long since
burned themselves out and
ny hcer .en sccn o undcrsend
why
there are so many gaps
he .en hc .rosscd

There is a family of people
out there, not held together
by ties of
blood but rather strings of the
heart. They knew each other
and I tried so hard
to know them
and then I let myself
walk, no, stumble, over
the edge of that cliff
us ncx o e
newly built bridge.
They stood on the
other side
of the valley, waved me over
to join them, and
on my way, I got
nervous. That tingling
in my fingertips grew to be
too much, so I
threw myself over
and wept
as my body survived,
but my heart
was broken.
ln looking dcscrecly
for bridges because
there is an
impasse careening in my
direction, and I need to know
that there is
somewhere
I can cross.

I need to know that there is
someone waiting
in a place for me to cross to.
30
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A family farm is a lot like a barbed wire fence; running smooth for a little while,
and then running into a twist or barb that slows things down. My last year and a half
hes hccn scn vorking on ny grendercns lern le.h dey hes hccn e ncv edvcnurc
I like summer on the farm the most; the weather has warmed so the barn can be
left open, and I can hear the jingling of chains as the cows turn their heads to look
vhcn l .onc in Sunncr on hc lern ncens heying, lcn.ing, .lcening u hc vincrs
ncss, end lcing hc .ovs ousidc o src.h hcir long lcgs licns end .elvcs erc
born and you have the fun of tracking them down every morning to see where their
mothers have decided to move them.
les sunncr, vc scn nu.h ol our inc lixing lcn.c y grendlehcr, unlikc nos
lerncrs, lixcs lcn.c vih en cx.eveor l vorks grce, onc crson holds hc lcn.c os
u end hc ushcs i in vih hc cx.eveor hu.kc, end vo or hrcc ohcrs go hchind
and start stringing wire.
l ves on .ru.hcs lor e lcv vccks he sunncr, vhi.h ncen hcrc vesn nu.h
l .ould do o hcl l usuelly o..uicd nyscll vih ny ovn .horcs Onc dey, l hed
e ncv .ell o rein Shc ves horn on Cin.o dc eyo,
and we named her Lola, which suited her right away.
I walked to the end of the barn where she was
hitched with her mother. She jumped up when she
saw that I was coming to see her and came over to
start sucking on my fingers. I smiled and took the
halter off the nail and we fought each other as I tried
o ighcn i ovcr hcr cers end eround hcr nuzzlc lor
the first time.
Shc ves so young he shc didn ull likc sonc
calves do. She ran to the end of her rope and came
o e qui.k so unil l .eugh u o hcr \c hcedcd
down the hill, Lola on the halter and me on my
crutches, to where the fencers my grandfather,
mom and two cousins had stopped to take a break.
My grandmother and brother had brought lunch for everyone, and we ate on the
ground in hc shedc ol hc cx.eveor
l lookcd ovcr e lole, o scc he shc hed .urlcd u end lellcn eslcc in ny nons
le Shc lookcd so .oncn l nudgcd ny .ousin end hc snilcd, es loles cycleshcs
shivered and she sighed heavily, sinking deeper into sleep and the lap she was taking
u
(You can read the complete story online at youngwritersproject.org/node/80476.)
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ln sending hclorc hc ser linc,
suddenly feeling the jitters.
lunncrs, ekc your nerk
I step forward, poised for the lunge.
Beng 1hc gun gocs oll
All the runners launch themselves
forward,
and the race begins.
I weave in and out of a massive clump
of other racers.
Our sights are set
on the finish line.
I start slowly,
hoping to save my precious breath
for the final lap.
In about a minute,
we come around the corner
and cross the line.
The first lap is finished.
Nov l lccl ny cncrgy cveoreing
I struggle neck and neck with another
runner
as teams cheer on their runners.
In what feels like hours later,
my feet lift themselves across the finish
line
for a second and third time.
Then the ordeal begins:
the final lap.
My cramped legs scream in protest
vhilc ny lungs lccl likc hcyrc lillcd vih
acid.
I push forward,
panting,
sweat cascading down my face.
linelly, vih ny hcer huning,
I come around the bend,
the finish line, 100 meters away,
dead ahead.
I draw neck and neck with another racer
when suddenly we both break into a
sprint.
My legs go totally numb.
My consciousness shuts down.
I just sail forward
like I never have before.
Then the racer and I dash across the
finish line.
It is done,
and I have the satisfaction of finishing.
My heart beats with a sense of
accomplishment.
I did it.
32
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Oh, let me linger
in the bright-eyed groves
where time
is my sweet little toy
and chances grow
on lemon trees
for every girl and boy.
I know this place
so very well.
lnlikc hc .old ousidc,
is sol in hcrc, lcesc ley nc dovn
where promises
reside.
Oh no!
You cannot let me go;
don lced nc ou hc door,
the door into that bitter place
where love is lost
in war.
lll lrcczc vih cvcry eggcd sc
and every icy glance!
Please, let me stay
in the bright-eyed groves
where life is just
a dance.
Bu il is dcsiny you sey
ln lor.cd o scc i hrough
Oh, hov lll niss hc silkcn gress
and pools of hopeful
blue.
lll hrevc his .rookcd, vrongcd, old lilc
in search for something right!
lll sherc ny lindings vih hc derk
and make
the whole world
bright.
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Lovely to know that no one noticed
that was my life, put in my soles
worn holes in my shoes.
I look through windowpanes
of the latest fashion
nearsighted, now sighted
pane glass
fasting
four months.
Bceuilul o scc no onc vencd
handles built sans machine
on dreams
stationary defeat comes pre-marathon.
Does that turn you on?
No
Happiness does not burn forests,
it builds waterfalls.
So what if Sundays sleep?
My frames have changed.
Do you lovely notice
my soles unshaken?
lesing lescr`
Looking lighter?
Once the coins tossed on the counter
now there are fewer encounters
dripping and sticky, and sweet and pink.
l don hink
about
the words I heard.
Corgcous o lccl i .revling on ny he.k
trees are legs, muscles lacked
called beautiful by a stranger
obligated to feed the fire that is my
danger
vho .ouldn knov he
echoes in my mind remind me,
Yourc so le
33
in gossip,
in poetry.

Like having kids.
ln hlcsscd vih high ein olcren.c,
but hey,
it takes time to grow bravery.

Like being faithful.
l ven o hclicvc in Cod,
but can he really
hear me?

Like going to funerals.
\cll, l gucss hes elrcedy hecncd
twice;
my pale face was blotchy.

Like dying.
I wish I was strong enough to say
i docsn s.erc nc
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I lay in bed at night,
staring at the ceiling I know is there in
the blackness.
l .en hcl hu hink ol ell hc hings
that happen to people,
and I wonder when they will happen to
me.

Like falling in love.
Sometimes I think I have an idea of what
that is.
Bu rcelly, i s.ercs nc

Like breaking hearts.
l knov is crrihlc,
but I feel better
free.

Like being broken.
I see it in films,
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34
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This is about a girl who recently committed suicide. I feel like I should say something, even if it looks
like Im disproportionately making this about myself.

I never knew her. I never talked to her. I never saw her in person, although
ellcgcdly lvc hccn in hc senc roon es hcr Shc ves onc ol hosc le.chook lricnds
you hevc hc.eusc cvcryonc you knov is le.chook lricnds vih hcn 1hes no hc
nos oci.el ol ruhs, hu is hc ruh
\hcn l lirs loggcd ono le.chook ycscrdey end sev e hun.h ol lll oss, l
hough i ves e okc eyhc i ves e lekc-e-dceh-onlinc renk, or shc ves lceving
hcr s.hool or sonc-su.h, end hcr lricnds vcrc cxeggcreing 1hc ruh ehsolucly
sunncd nc, ncening no so nu.h he i surriscd nc, hu he i lrozc ny insidcs
and left me physically gasping.
\hy gricvc lor sonconc l didn knov` l hink is higgcr hen he A 9, l los ny
ln.lc ikc o sui.idc A his oin in ny lilc, l hcer ler norc olcn hen l should ol
lricnds, lricnds ol lricnds likc his girl, colc ln vegucly .onnc.cd o end colc lvc
ncvcr hcerd ol ecning, lenning, .onsidcring or .onniing sui.idc lvcry inc l
hcer ehou e lricnds .ousin or en euns old lricnd, hc inusi.c ol i ell grovs on nc
\ho dcscrvcs o lccl so evlul ehou hc vorld he hcy hevc o givc u on i` No
onc l vouldn vish i on ny vors cncny il l hed hc vors, vors cncny ossihlc
Tragically, this is growing less and less uncommon. Suicide has now risen to the
tenth leading cause of death in this country, and the rate is significantly higher in
Vcrnon hen he ol hc neionel evcregc \hes vorsc, is hc hird lceding .eusc
ol dceh enong colc egcd 15 o 24 1hird lc he sink in 1hes hov neny young
colc su..ccd, no hov neny ry or ven o, end is sill hc hird nos .onnon
rceson young colc dic in his .ounry ll he isn hcerhrceking, l don knov vhe is
lcolc .len u ehou sui.idc 1hcy do No onc vens o elk ehou i Sonc
people are suspicious or skeptical of psychology. Some people are afraid to be judged.
Sonc colc don ven cxre ecnion, end sonc erc elreid he i vill look likc
hcyrc rying o gc ecnion Sonc colc us .en hink ol enyonc o elk o ll
suicide were a disease, they could ask for medicine. If it were an injury, they could
esk lor rcencn ll i vcrc e neli.ious hird ery, hcy .ould esk lor roc.ion Bu
is nonc ol hosc hings \hilc neny vish lor hcl, hcy hevc no idce vhe kind ol
help to ask for. Something as ambiguous and isolating as depression is difficult to talk
about.
On hc llisidc, knoving sonconc vih dcrcssion or sui.idel houghs docsn
always prompt people to reach out. It might be too awkward; it might be a complete
misunderstanding; it might be offensive; it might give them ideas; it might only make
hings vorsc - hc lis ol cx.uscs gocs on end on And olcn hcsc colc cnd u linc
35
1hcy gc ovcr hcir hill or lind e lilclinc Bu us ekc e ninuc, es herd es his ninuc
nigh hc, o ineginc il hcy didn, end you .ould hevc neyhc donc sonching o
hcl lneginc he guil You scc, is no cvcryoncs oh o ekc e.ion, hu in e vey is
sill cvcryoncs rcsonsihiliy
!l in no vey en rying o hlenc his girls .onnuniy lor e le.k ol suor
Suor isn elveys cnough l elso von rcsunc o knov norc hen l do, end l
knov ncx o nohing ehou vhe hecncd l do knov he hc only vey in vhi.h l
knew her was on my news feed, and what I saw in my news feed was love. The posts
I saw from her were always about her friends how much she enjoyed spending time
with them, how much she loved them. I think that says a great deal about the people
in hcr lilc
ln going o esk e levor lron you ell nov l ven you o .one. sonconc
eyhc is sonconc csrengcd, or sonconc you knov o hc dcrcsscd eyhc is us
sonconc you hink you ough o knov Bu l ven you o .ell hcn, ncssegc hcn,
os on hcir vell, Skyc hcn, cx hcn, hun ino hcn or visi hcn- vhecvcr
you do Ask ehou hcir lilc lclivc sonc old incs or edni youd likc o hc hccr
lricnds You don nccd e .hccsy llecr-lcs or e hceri.el scc.h us nekc surc o
tell them before you hang up, log off or walk away that they mean something to you.
lossihly he hcy ncen quic e lo
Alcr he, you von lccl likc you us sevcd e lilc Chen.cs erc, hcy vcrcn
holding e gun o hcir hced veiing lor sonconc o cx hcn Chen.cs erc hcy
vouldn hevc hur hcnsclvcs vihou you And is no hc.eusc ol hc .hen.c he
hcy nigh he you should do his Bu er ol .henging hc dirc.ion ol hc grehs
on hc ncvs is hc snell end cvcrydey cllor vc nekc o ekc e risk end rce.h ou us
as a symptom of depression is a feeling of isolation and aloneness, part of the cure lies
in .onnc.ion end suor 1hes vhy vc should snilc e or grcc ce.h ohcr in hc
hellvey 1hes vhy vc should esk e dovnroddcn srengcr il hcrcs enyhing vrong
1hes vhy vc should ncvcr drivc evey hc colc vho ven o hc hcrc lor us,
because you never know when they might need someone to be there for them.
ls e .hellcnging inc lor us young colc 1hc idion gocs rcecd likc .hildrcn
end cxc.cd o e. likc eduls end is no ler vrong Adolcs.cn.c end young
adulthood is confusing and often lonely. While there is usually a deeper issue, no one
should want to die because of loneliness, and that is where we all can lend a hand.
36
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1hc lrin.c ol Nigh end \oodlend Air
with heart so heavy, yet face so fair,
once came to me when I was young,
just after set of twilight sun.
He sang to me the sweetest songs
of birds and stars and goings-on
in the wood so far below,
vhcrc only lools dercd ccr o go
He bid me come, his smile so bright
it shamed the moon, it felt so right.
And from my window I was led
vhcrc lerh nccs sky And on e hcd
of silver grass laid we there,
in the night and woodland air.
1his is ny honc, hc seid o nc
Cen you lccl in cvcry rcc
the freedom of this unknown place,
hc necsy ol unou.hcd gre.c`
I smiled at him, all rosy-cheeked,
end ve.hcd e levn, so quic end ncck,
come bounding by. It made me smile.
1his ell vill dic in e lilc vhilc
I turned to him, confused and scared,
and to my listening ears he bared
the secret worries he had grown
as he watched from celestial throne.
1hc lerh docs .ry, hc seid o nc
ls in hc quekcs, hc eir vc hrcehc
lron vecr rushing in lron sce,
to every stump and fallen tree.
1his vorld vc hevc is no our ovn
And with that, he took me home.
He led me to my own soft bed,
then kissed the top of my bowed head
and wiped the tears that stung my eyes.
My dear, nothing may have to die.
Tell your friends the things you know.
Sherc vih hcn vhe youvc hccn
shown.
With all your help, perhaps some day
lll .onc egein 1o you, l sey,
the future is within your hands.
Take this news to distant lands.
Only you can save my home.
lcncnhcr, you erc no elonc
He disappeared and left me there
with tear-stained eyes and heart of care.
So went the night he met me there,
hc lrin.c ol Nigh end \oodlend Air
37
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Anyone notice how hopelessly broken
our 1V s.rccns sccn o hc`
\cvc hccn reiscd on i sin.c vc vcrc
children
but now the cracks are all I see.
The news divides the nation,
a place where suicide is advertised.
\cvc dcsroycd his gcncreion
vih ell vcvc nonoolizcd
lcer end nekcu is ell l scc,
war is painted on the screens,
and death is served with morning coffee,
replacing our lingering sweet dreams.
The dismal lines are on a roll,
broadcasted
open wounds and lost homesteads.
\hcrcs hc oy, hc lilc, no hc dced`
\hcrcs hc hoc vcvc long ehendoncd`
The news is crafty rather than smart.
ls lornel end sill, veyverd end los
\cvc go hc hed sorics oll o e good
start,
but shut out the rest; is that the cost?
The price of information,
the fines for stories and lies,
we all bow down to the stations;
vcvc ell sold our livcs
Are the cracks just getting bigger,
or is the world getting worse?
l .en u hc ic.cs he.k ogchcr
o scc il is e eredc or e hcersc
because the news divides the nation
on all the fractured oily stares.
Violcn.c hrokc hc clcvision
end rcorcrs von ellov rceirs
Bc.eusc don you knov`
Death is captivating.
War is woven into the show,
and blood closes out the ending.
Their eyes are hopelessly glued
to every crack, every sliver.
I watch my family take in the news;
all I do is shake and shiver.
I shut my eyes against the world.
l don ven o scc hcir shos,
l don ven o hcer hc vords
of only the hopeless and the lost.
Nov lcesc don gc nc vrong,
ln no suggcsing vc sey in hc derk,
ln us si.k ol hcn oisoning our souls
and tearing apart our hearts.
38
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She knew it was lucky from the second
the sun rose.
She could tell, you know, because it was
so dillcrcn, !end ell hc cnnics shc hrcv
in hc eir lendcd shinncring, eils u
It was lucky the way he sat with her, and
the way she felt
right in her skin, like it fit, for the first
time.
It was lucky the way the door creaked
when it opened,
like it was trying to tell its own story.
It was lucky the way she shrieked with
joy, and no one
noticed because they were, after all, the
ones who
let her do it.
It was little things, too.
The way the grass blew in the direction
the sun sets when the
wind blew it.
The way music seemed scrawled around
her, and
words scrambled together to make
sentences, and
lenesics shcd only drcencd ol .enc
true.
Bu nos ol ell, i ves lu.ky hc.eusc shc
rcelizcd he
she could do anything, that the
vorld ves e hcr lingcris, shc didn
cvcn hevc o diel 9
And that maybe even if her life was no
more than
merely the smallest shadow on the street,
at least she could live it brilliantly.
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Marking time by skipping stones
and cutting corners;
treading water,
modulate from major to minor
like lines on a heart monitor.
Brcehing in eri.lcs, likc,
Hcy, his is lilc
And if this were a love poem to
chemical reactions and inhalation,
ld ski soncs vhilc ner.hing,
play on the offbeats,
and fly in a holding pattern,
just to prove that this is my half full,
not empty,
ode to the air in my lungs.
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The caf at which I sit is humming with
anticipation.
1hc ehlc looks likc i hesn hccn .lcencd
sin.c 1984
1hes e grce hook, hy hc vey
I order my usual,
burger and fries.
The memories of you, still engraved in
my guilty conscience,
kcc nc quic es hc veircss velks hy
My fries come in their usual little plastic
bin
with the white and red plaid paper,
soaked in a horrendous amount of
grease.
Hell, they say this is the American meal.
The ideal imagery.
Almost a too-perfect painted picture
to represent a society living in a
moribund way of life.
After being lied to for so long,
your short skirt and leather jacket
e. es e herri.edc lor e hordcr l don
have a passport for.
The desert sands blow a tornado up into
the deep blue sky, almost artistically.
However, the morning brings a blood
red sunrise.
The streaks of crimson stream boldly
lron horizon o horizon,
siniler o hc oncs cnhlezoncd e.ross
my heart.
I finish my last bite of cheeseburger.
The fatty grease runs down my chin
almost like a tear would.
Bu lvc hed cnough ol hosc lecly
The dank smelling diner is slowly closing
down for the night.
Bu hcyll ell go honc
Be.k ino hc sky
Beng
I write out my bill as the mushroom
cloud engulfs the dusty lands, and rises
into that stupid blue sky.
40
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A glass crown rimmed with gold
lillcd vih .ur-scd ovr ol old
1000 ces ol onyx sc vihin
cut the lifespan of royal kin.
le.h hcir .hosc ovcr
and died at an early hour,
sentenced from the divine above,
sung to death by the mourning dove.
In this way, the years passed on
until the present king had a son.
As his lehcrs les hrceh gevc vey,
e nourning dovcs song did ley
On his way to his coronation,
the heir came to his decision.
He would not sacrifice life for death.
It was time he laid this greed to rest.
He rejected the crown and threw it to the
floor.
The power it possessed was not worth
dying for.
1000 ces ol onyx cnhcddcd in hc
crown,
1000 ces ol onyx shecrcd on hc
ground.
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You,
hc luhiks .uhc l ry o solvc,
but every new day you bring me more
mystery.
lvcry vis end urn you surrisc nc,
block me,
confuse me.
Your colorful personality stands out.
Though many people have tried to
solve you,
I think I have figured you out.
I used to be stuck
on your mystery turn.
Which way was right?
Should I peruse
or just give up?
Bu l vill cll you vhe,
I found the right path.
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One thousand carrots
lus onc housend ces cquels
no more appetite.
41
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ls sring
in \cs Clovcr,
hc snovs gonc
and the snowmobiles, too.

The younger Youngs
are on their four-wheelers,
zooning hy,
scaring me.

Maple syrup
coming in gallons,
going o Ncv York
in a van.

The dogs run
and roll
and sniff
and dig.

Almost time
to spread manure.
What fun.
How nice.

The grass is brown
but with touches of green.
The amaryllis is coming up;
we thought it died.

Bikcs .onc ou,
out of the crawlspace
full of spiders
and their webs.
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They thought the stars
blinked, those
foolish humans. They
thought they understood the stars.
They watched those lights
in the dark sky with such
a bland energy. Of course,
the stars wished for more than that.
It was a tiresome life, to
wait for every night,
when maybe, just
maybe,
someone would notice who they
truly were.
They did not know that this
moment would come so soon,
and they watched a fire glow as a
little girl watched the night.
Her eyes reflected their light,
and shone with their joy.
She did not think the stars
blinked; she
knew that it was the humans who
blinked. It was they who
took away every glorious moment in the
blink of an eye.
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Boys erc hc hings l hevc elveys
disliked.
They are mean and annoying, only
sometimes
they flip their hair,
and it gives me the chills.
y non seys ln likc
one, but I disagree.
Shc seys ln
dirty and messy,
hu hes rcelly no
me.
Sill l don likc
them.
lvcn ny ded .en
be annoying sometimes.
Bu hc oin ol his
story is to say
that I
dislike
boys.
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1hcy sey, vhcn vcrc young, he vcrc
afraid of everything,
but can do anything,
and yet, as we grow older,
they tell us
not everything is right
end vc shouldn hc elreid ol enyhing
Bu l en, l en elreid
Afraid to be afraid,
to think the wrong thoughts,
to speak the wrong words;
afraid to do anything
for fear of losing everything.
Silent.
Why do we feel this way?
What has made us so terrified,
made us lose our will to speak?
They need not change their laws,
telling us we can speak our minds,
lor vc don,
we only speak what we think they want
to hear.
Stripped away
is freedom of speech,
not by lawmakers,
not by government,
but by our peers,
our enemies,
our friends.
And so we sit,
our lips tightly sealed,
too afraid to say a word,
fearing the day
we might say the wrong thing,
fearing the day
we are no longer
silent.
44
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There was the one who was struck by
lightning
and the one who felt the aftershocks.
Standing by his old faded-blue pickup
on the side of the thirsty field,
hoing hc sorn vould ess qui.kly,
hc ushcd his vorn Cerher .e he.k,
cxescrecdly .onhing his heir ou ol
his frosty blue eyes,
counting the lightning strikes
125 hoon
12
1
Singcd ozonc lillcd his nosrils
as flames shot down his body,
licking down his limbs,
caressing him to sleep,
closing those pale blue eyes.
In a moment of passionate rage,
her eyes flared slightly when she heard
the news,
pretty blonde lashes spread an
infinitesimal amount wider;
no other emotion was shown.
Shc didn .erc - ol .oursc no,
shc didn rcelly knov hin,
hc vesn hcr yc
!es ler es hcy kncv
She sat silently through the service,
onyx nes.ere shrouding hcr dry cycs,
indifferent,
unchanged in outward appearance;
inside shocked to her very core.
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r lridc end isscs oy,
tainting Mr. Misery
with a drop of light,
scaring away the dark.

Corgcous s Bliss,
chasing off Dr. Pain,
who had followed Hesitation
for so many dreadful years.

With a friendly glance from Happiness,
hcn neking le.cs e Brohcr lcrcssion,
ultimately creating a ladder
that leads out of the crevice.

Hesitation grasps the rungs,
unsure of the coming change;
but standing above the abyss,
are all his once-upon-a-time friends.

With smiles from Sister Tenacity,
cn.oureging cycs lron s Brillien.c,
e srong hend lron lehcr Brevcry,
waiting for Hesitation to make his climb.

l ino hc vorld ol Quccn Bceuy,
to live inside her kingdom,
where he will feast with all his friends,
Hesitation pushes his way up through.

With outstretched hands,
his friends bring him out,
making Hesitation begin to evolve,
into a brand new emotion

Determination.
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We built a tunnel
ino enohcr vorld, exis, univcrsc
Your smile was infectious as we traveled
ino hc sinning vorcx,
unsure of our destination.
I would watch your feet, mirroring their
movements,
cxe. scs ino ne.hing lends
ld lorgc o look u, so cngrosscd in hc
prints left from those feet.
Bu your leughcr vould hrcek hrough,
and as I raised my head, my eyes would
focus on yours,
the magic echoing behind you, paltry in
comparison to the sparkle within them.
Our trips became longer,
tiring, overdone.
Bu elveys e hc cnd, l .eugh e glinsc,
a meeting of the eyes.
lnil onc dey ny loo slicd end
landed into a different track.
I looked up.
Bu hcrc ves no serklc lcl
It was a harsh light,
one that whispered of betrayal and
disapproval.
You continued on the path, leaving me
behind,
two feet in two worlds.
No vords, no cxleneion
And suddcnly, hc unncl vesn so
welcoming.
So I continued my prints, following a
different track.
lycs ehced, ncvcr dovn
lor his is ny re.k, ny dc.ision
Sometimes if I look across the abyss I
can see you, struggling forward,
forever reaching for the magic that we
left behind.
Bu l knov norc hen l did hcn
Sometimes you have to change courses,
just to get where you want to be.
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47
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She was sent to rest with the waves
for the good of the sea,
and the sea was restless
for the good of her.
A sleeping child to hush the tide,
to tuck it in, and give it a kiss before
bedtime.
The water rolled in with the pull of her
breathing,
the hum of her warmth and the flutter of
her heart.
Little waves tickled her spine as she
caressed them unconsciously,
willing them into the safety of her soul.
Her sincerity called to the dream
creatures.
She sang to them, kissing the wind that
flew with the gulls.
Her footprints were left in this place
as she danced,
quclling hc viligh vih hcr lovc end
her little-girl eyes.
Her dreamy presence rained gently on
the water,
tiny diamonds, like more salt for the sea.
She mumbled pretty words while her
eyelids flickered.
The dim light in the room set over her;
hc lilc quccn ol hc grce hig sce,
and the clamor of the crashing.
Her innocence gave a small lilt to the
world
and lifted the tide to the moon for a
goodnight kiss
before bedtime.
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Sometimes it comes right when you wake up on a weekend morning; sometimes
it comes when you open a window after being inside and feel the fresh air wash over
your face and into your lungs. Sometimes it comes when you are taking a walk, or
vhcn yourc vih sonconc vho ncens hc vorld o you lnsireion is likc he, you
never know when it will come, but it does come. Here I will share one of my personal
insireionel cxcricn.cs
l ves ehou six o.lo.k in hc norning on e Seurdey l ves oelly lrcczing ou, l
hclicvc eround 15 dcgrccs hclov zcro !lehrcnhci, ol .oursc l u on ny .onrcssion
shirt, a hoodie, and my running shoes. I walked out the door and the cold hit me like
a wall. It took my breath away.
l ves running in hcvccn hc vo vorlds in vhi.h our singlc vorld cxiss
.ivilizeion end neurc l lcl likc l ves e er ol hoh Civilizeion is vhcrc l .onc
lron, hu l ves shering en cxcricn.c vih hirds he seng !in his cncreurc, oo
end hc squirrcls he skicrcd es nc l shercd hc cxcricn.c vih hc dccr he
sood 15 lcc lron nc end didn run vhcn shc sev nc hu slovly rocd evey l
shercd hc cxcricn.c vih hc rising sun end hc rccs l lcl e vingc ol sedncss he
my world and this world were seemingly so disconnected. This feeling of sadness was
nixcd vih en indcs.rihehlc cncrgy he grcv srongcr es l ren l .revlcd is vey o
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49
the surface of my consciousness where my mind converted this feeling into words.
Slowly, it led to words so that I could articulate this wonderful, bittersweet feeling. As
I returned to my house, I had a full sentence. I walked up to my door, opened it, and
velkcd insidc lncring hc housc, hc vern eir ves us es sho.king es hc .old eir
that I had left. My hands were numb; they were past the burning sensation from the
hicr .old, end l .ouldn lccl e hing As l verncd u, hcy hcgen o hur l .ould
hercly novc hcn, hu l didn ven o lorgc hc scncn.c l .ould lccl he enezing
rush that was my inspiration slightly fading, and I hoped that if I copied the words
down while I still felt that feeling, that the words would truly capture and contain that
energy within them. I walked through the kitchen, down the stairs and into my room. I
searched for a pen or pencil but could only find a golden marker. It was good enough
for me. I took out my notebook, and hardly able to hold the marker, I copied down
these words in barely legible handwriting due to my numb and painful hands:
When separated from nature in any way, which is the case with humanity,
rcurning o i, il only lor e sc.ond, is e rolound nysi.el cxcricn.c
Alhough he lccling ol insireion hes ledcd sin.c lvc vricn his, l sill lccl hc
deep meaning that is locked within the words. Whenever I recite this sentence, I can
feel the truth of them residing within me, connecting me to that seemingly simple, but
enezing cxcricn.c 1he norning ves e hceuilul norning in norc veys hen onc l
lookcd likc sonching ou ol e leiry elc, end l en henklul o hevc he cxcricn.c o
hold in my mind forever.
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I sit in the soft grass
in the shadow of the bush,
pulling the ripe
berries
one by one,
popping them in my mouth
as I watch a little girl walk by
with a full basket
of blueberries.
Bu no nc
I eat them right away.
I look down at my
blue fingers and smile.
My mom walks over,
laughs at my blue mouth
and I get up to follow her,
wiping my sticky hands
on my pants,
streaking them blue.
50
;<#2B*$30 :'4*
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It came to me yesterday,
the answer to life,
as I sat under a willow tree
and drank from a tall glass of lemonade.
I sat for a while, not sure what to do
with this great secret that had been so
suddenly
placed in the palm of my hand.
I cowered at its vastness.
I laughed at its simplicity.
I tossed it up into the cloudless skies
and watched as it eloped with the sound
of thunder,
leaving behind the letters and tune
ol cvcryoncs levoric song

l ook i o iscrs herhcrsho end
watched for his reaction.
He gave it a glance and dismissed it,
but his fingers shook as he trimmed my
hair.

I tried to carefully slip it into my
briefcase,
but it protested and it cried.
I was angry now, and rightly so!
How dare my gift defy me?
I locked it up safe and tight
and danced through the pools of ink and
light,
kicking up freedom and splashes of joy,
and was always careful to avoid the
puddles of guilty resentment
that dampened my new leather shoes.
I scooped up handfuls of silver Milky
Way,
laughing as the glitter chilled my palms,
smiled as the dusty planets became my
stepping stones
in ccrniys nurky svinning ool

Bu vhcn l hung u ny e.kc
and slipped off my shoes
and shook the stars from my hair,
I opened my briefcase and nothing came
out,
nothing but dust that dissolved in the air.
And just for a second my heart was
eclipsed,
something slipping out the back of my
mind.

So I tossed out my suit and I threw out
my case
and burned up my new leather shoes
and ran out to the field with the sun-
dried grass
and asked for a tall glass of lemonade.
I strung up a hammock under my
willow tree
and listened to the call of the lark
and was content for a while
with simply observing
from my safe little cage in the dark.
51
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1hcrcs e girl e e sink vih sonc holcs
and pans,
uneverc he shc holds sonconcs hcer
in her hands.
1his girl hes hcr el.hcniss nind sc on
love
crafting concoctions to snag a prince
from above.
And there is a boy who has seen her
through trials and errors,
vho is drcenily surc he hcrcs nohody
fairer.
leihlully hc rics ell hcr ovdcrs end
potions,
reying o hc nocd hy his ruc lovcs
emotions.
His adoration burned wordlessly on
through the years,
until he was buried in bottles, high up to
his ears!
Bu veiing end veiing o incrru hcr
routine
was not nearly as painful as remaining
unseen.
Thus, he jumped, landing light where he
leapt,
sending so quicly in hc roon vhcrc
she slept,
whispering softly, in ears unsuspecting,
words he hoped would fast be
connecting.
I want you to look at me, woman to
man,
end rcllc. on hc hings he lvc donc
for your hand.
With your endless supply of tinctures
and brews,
your heart wants to be able to view and
be viewed.
Bu ruc lovc is hclorc you, ve.hing you
try
to find a companion to hold when you
die.
I have sat here and silenced the thoughts
in my mind,
hu is ruc he no longcr .en l scc you
be blind.
I want to marry my love with her bottles
and pans,
walk into eternity; two names in the
sand.
So ln hcgging you, lcesc lro your
disguise!
Abandon your bottles
end ocn your cycs
52
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I remember my grandmother telling me stories of the surface. When I was
younger, without my own children, I would sit by her side, watching the fish swim
es ny hiolicld hclnc end liscn o hcr elk lor hours Shc old nc he ohcr lerh
had begun heating and that it was irreversible. I remember not understanding why
that was.
l didn nekc scnsc he ny en.csors vcrc in.eehlc ol rcvcrsing hcir nisekcs,
il hcy .ould .rcec su.h vondcrlul c.hnology Shc cxleincd o nc he Hono
sapiens had damaged our planet to the point of no return because they were selfish
and had disconnected themselves from nature.
\hcn ny gcncreion .enc elong, hc ilc ol hunen hcgen o ncen dillcrcn
things than it once did. I remember looking at her toes and wondering if sometimes
she felt unnatural down here. She belonged to the land and I, one of the first Homo
ichthyoids, belonged to the sea. My toes were webbed to match my hands. At times I
wished for gills, and other times I thought about cutting my webbings.
No necr hov neny incs l eskcd hcr ehou hc ser ol our ncv vorld, shcd
elveys rccll i 1hc sory ncvcr .hengcd, end vhcn shcd .onc o hc cnd, ld esk hcr
something about the beginning to make our time stretch on. She would tell me that
ohcr lerh hed grovn ircd ol hunen rcsilicn.c, end u us o hc cs lor hc les
time. She told me that Homo sapiens saw the change and damage escalating but let
i vorscn 1hcy kncv vhe vould .onc ol i, end hclorc lerh .ould .lcensc hcrscll
of the parasitic nature of humans, they found a route around her ways. They created
hc hiolicld hclncs he ellovcd oxygcn o hc cndlcssly lilcrcd lron vecr, end nedc
.iics ou ol necriel he ves insoluhlc end .ould no hc .orrodcd Shc cxleincd he
the oceans we now inhabit rose and swallowed up all the land.
Hce, shcd sey, hc hce ves unhcerehlc overd hc cnd ol hc surle.c vorld
Sweltering heat beat down on her back for days before the water came in such sweet
relief. The time came, finally, when she, her husband, and her sisters had to brace them-
sclvcs lor hc incviehlc ine. ol vecr Shc cxleincd he hcrc ves e loud sircn he
went off to alert them of this, called a civil defense warning mechanism. They strapped
themselves in, having practiced it many times before, in complete fear of whether the
technology would work and of transforming their lives from the bottom up.
(To read the complete story, go to youngwritersproject.org/node/82739)
53
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le.h hrceh l hrcehc
my heart beats five.
lid l cll you is hccn ligh ycers
sin.c lvc lcl his elivc`

Music notes play in my steps,
sounding from my feet.
My limbs move in electric waves,
streaming to the beat.

ls us e velk dovn hc srcc
like any other day,
hu is nighinc nov,
lll lc ny den.ing shocs lced hc vey

Ciy lighs so hrigh,
looks like stars fell from the sky.
Cen you scc hc shining
mischievous glint in my eye?

Staring up at skyscrapers
with a nod at the dawn.
Spin around to kiss the night
goodhyc, hclorc is gonc
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lncrging lron ny .oon-dovn drcens,
pillows roiling from wild thoughts of the
id,
eyelashes dusted with the sand of sleep,
the world is blurred and warm.
I shift and flannel rustles, marshmallow
static sparks
under my bones, knees and hips
cradled by nylon and springs.
I pull myself under my cave of covers, I
am
my own sun in the deep of night, and in
this cave,
thoughts flow
instead of water.
Sheets like seatbelts,
I would plummet into my
slumbering
subconscious
to dream,
but now
I hum to myself, hidden
in my cave of blue sheets
no monster can reach me here
this is my territory, even in the hollowest
of nights, and the bleakest of mornings.
My hair does its best impression of Sonic
as I reach for the hard, cold reality of
glass and plastic
and my vision focuses in the frames.
Cuerdcd hy .oon end sullcd eninels,
I peek over the covers
to witness, with eyes reborn,
the first stream of sunlight.
54
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The invisible line watches all,
holding me with hard eyes until it
confirms I am on the correct side.
I keep walking until I am behind it;
only hcn docs i dro is gezc,
the line, the white line with no emotion
for a weary black woman returning from
a hard day.
It keeps track of its victims,
keeping them in order,
white and black,
good and bad,
clean and dirty,
the line does its job.
I close my eyes and watch it melt away,
wishing it would melt away.
My eyes shoot open at the sound of a
voice,
a deep gruff voice,
a white voice.
White, fake purity blinds me.
1hc linc lixcs is .old cycs on nc,
looking me over,
then it swiftly obeys its master,
contorting itself so that it also corners off
the seat I currently occupy.
Then it smiles,
a rueful smile, and laughs a high-pitched
wicked laugh,
a white laugh.
It knows that it will win.
It always wins.
I stare it down, eyes full of confidence.
lirc li.ks e hc .oels
\hcn hc linc sclcs, i rcurns ny gezc
with a soul-seeking stare.
lirc,
wicked white fire.
It burns me from inside out.
I hold on,
sweat beginning to dance on my
forehead;
hc linc shils is gezc hclorc l do
Strong arms pull me up,
pinching, prying me from my seat of
honor.
They haul me down the aisle with my
head held high.
Bchind nc l .en hcer i,
hc linc squcels vih leughcr end lces,
dancing in the sweet air of victory.
The line has done its job;
the line has won.
The line always wins.
55
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One night I dreamt,
I dreamt of children loved and warm
hugs.
One night I dreamt
of clambering heights and weighted lead
thrown away.
And still I dreamt
of a cold cell lit by a fire bright
and a dark chamber combusting into
light.

I slept on and saw
a trapped eagle lift its wing.
A deaf boy began to sing.
A blind lady navigated the way;
a mute woman told what to say.
And still I slept.

Belcs dissolvcd ino leughcr
Tragedies fell into happy-ever-afters.
A bomb destroyed arrows and guns.
There was food enough for everyone.

One night I woke
to wars and hurricanes,
murder and theft,
accidents making people blind and deaf.

lircs regcd end colc .egcd,
arguments, loss of sentiments.

One day a child said to me,
ll l ves eslcc ld hc norc hey
So I could dream of better days,
sunny skics end righcous veys

And so I sleep on and on,
dreading the first light of dawn,
down here with myself and I,
where I can kiss my dreams goodbye.

One night I dreamt.
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I saw the man coming from afar, his hard, leather shoes tapping as he came slowly
dovn hc hell Nohody clsc sccncd o scc hin
I saw his white, ghostly figure looming over the children as they slept. I was scared,
hu es l sev hin .onc slovly overds us, l lrozc in le.c, no knoving vhe o do
He wore his top hat and hobbled on a cane. I remembered that hat, the one that
used to lie in the attic. It was always there, covered in cobwebs and dust. It was strange
o scc i on his nens hced nov
The children breathed lightly, lying on their cots, every one of them chilled by the
lrcczing .old hloving hrough hc door he sood eer l ves s.elding, hc hliscrs ol
my hands throbbed throughout my whole body, making me tingle with the sudden
jolt of heat.
The man had gotten closer now; he stood only a few cots away from me, unable
o scc he ny cycs vcrc lixcd on hin Hc hi his .enc e.ross hc lloorhoerds, eing
on the souls of the sleeping children.
l did no ven o hc ncx l did no ven his ghos ol e nen o sle his .enc egeins
the floor below me, to make my body shake and vibrate, and to be carried away in his
hands. I wanted to stay here with all of the children, but most of them had already gone
that night. They left to go to a happier place, without sickness, blisters and cold.
l vould niss his le.c, hu es l sev hc ohcr .hildrcns lin hodics, l kncv i
would be unfair for me to hide from this man. And so as the man approached my
bed, I readied myself for the worst, and crack! I heard the sound of the cane hitting the
bottom of my bed, and then, I was gone.
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lycs vendcr eround e hrokcn vorld o
find nothing but darkness.
ln scer.hing\he en l scer.hing lor`
ln veiing\he en l veiing lor`
The whole world is at the edge of the
.lill, end vcrc su.k in hc noncn ol
suspense.
1hc eir is oo quic,
the trees are silent,
no more whispers or lullabies from the
wind.
The moon is holding up the sky; the sun
von ull evey hc sers
Why do the stars look so devious like
they are wise eyes full of secrets?
Ceesrohc is huilding in our hcers
The night is swallowing us whole; the
darkness brings out our deepest fears,
our darkest desires.
A oor nen .en hc sccn es hc scels
A wise man has watched his sanity run
from his grasp on two feet of ignorance.
I want to set fire to the world, watch the
flames leap and lick at the sky; I want the
stars to melt on my tongue, so the sun
may once again burn up the sky.
The night sky is heavy with thoughts; we
all lie here with memories drenching us
in regrets.
We never had the chance to kiss the sun
goodbye.
We never had the chance to caress the
clouds.
We never had the chance to taste the
light blue spilling through the trees.
Nigh ves hceuilul A inc o rcs end
remember everything.
We had always had the sun to look
forward to in the morning.
Morning. Is it morning now? Is this our
morning cast in the shadows? Are we
hcing rcscncd` lcscncd hy hc hceuilul
day-lit sky?
I see no smiles on these faces of the
shunned.
\c dcsroycd our lerh \c orc dovn
its trees.
We filled the air with gasses.
We drenched the world in sins.
And now the world resents us and has
cast us in a forever shadow.
ln den.ing vih ny lcers, hcy ekc ny
hand and guide me to a river.
Looking down, I see the reflection. She is
dressed in midnight, and her eyes are full
of hate.
Is this me?
Has the night pulled me from my grace,
torn away my wings and set me on fire
with darkness?
These angels surrounding me are sooted
with sins; their white dresses have been
torn, their halos shattered and their
wings stained with raven feathers.
What have we done?
A .rucl snilc rcss in hc noons lchel
glare.
The sky looks as though it will devour
our souls.
I can feel the stars pulling me in.
They want to taste my fears; they want
to know my heart.
This was our doing; we destroyed
ourselves, and the sky has placed us in
the darkest of shadows.
This is our shunning.
This is our eternal night.
58
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ls viligh
Nigh end dey .lesh in e licry sunsc
and I run down the road,
bare feet slapping against the pavement.
My heels sting, but it is a good pain,
reminding me that I am solidly here
in this moment.
My scarf billowing out behind me could
be a parachute or
wings.
The tree branches cast long shadows
across the ground,
and I get that shivery feeling from
knoving ln elonc
end is elnos derk
Bu hc ri.kly insin. o go he.k end
find somebody, to be with people,
is flung away by the adrenaline of being
so completely alone.
The road stretched out before me is a
challenge to my aching legs,
and I accept.
Soon I will turn back and run home,
but just a few more steps.
My breath comes in great gasps,
and I wish I were a deer or a bird so I
could keep going forever.
linelly, l so
and look at the sunset again.
ls lighing hceuilully o sey in hc sky
hu cvcnuelly i slis hclov hc horizon
As the dusk creeps in, so do my fears
and I start to jog home with my heart in
my throat.
The same trees that welcomed me down
the road
whisper threats on the way back,
and when I see the lights from my
kitchen window,
l lccl e suddcn rush ol rclicl he l vesn
cxc.ing
I open the door and step into warm
safety.
My legs are tired and my face is flushed,
but I feel the deep sort of contentment
that comes from succeeding at something
cvcn hough l didn rcelly e..onlish
anything,
and if I did,
there was no one there to see it.
Maybe that was it:
the pleasure of doing something just for
myself,
not for anyone else.
lll run lurhcr onorrov
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Swaying, drifting, gently falling through
hc .ool, svcc hrcczc
rolling along the ground, with silver
streams and rolling green hills of grass
along the hills and meadows within the
heart and soul touched by the song of a
bluebird
dew resting on shards of grass slowly
sliding down
as clouds silhouetted by colors show the
dusk of this beautiful place.
No lcv vords .en dcs.rihc his
marvelous place.
l is Vcrnon
59
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I wake up every morning to a cup of tea
with my dad at the charcoal-granite
island
1.5 tbsp of sugar, caffeinated;
1 tbsp and decaf - il ln lccling eri.ulerly
healthy.
lvcry nigh,
I scribble thoughts in my notebook
sometimes rambles, sometimes
coherent words that translate into
blog posts,
often pictures that temporarily
alleviate my symptoms.
In between,
I live a varied, yet ordinary life.

I was recently diagnosed with a case of
terminal nostalgia,
end ln olcn old l ves horn in hc
wrong generation
at the wrong
time,
because in between my mornings and
nights,
and amidst these days,
I am bound to the past
and longing for some sort of hope;
one of the side effects of nostalgia, they
said,
would be
unrelenting
hope.

I do everything I am supposed to
in this generation
I study, I rebel, I pretend that I can
change the world
vhcn is rcelly hc vorld .henging nc -
but within me is a soul
beating at the cages of my heart,
a soul who once used to feel infinite
and searches for this sensation
in every living
moment.
The feeling of being infinite
has often been attributed to engendering
nostalgia.

There are few of us
with this condition,
few of us who find ourselves borne back
ceaselessly into the past,
searching for our own green lights
at the end of our own docks,
searching for reassurance that one day,
the past will be restored.
Bu nohody in his gcncreion
will ever tell us that the past is both
unforgettable
and unrepeatable.
60
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I remember the first time
my toe, just one toe, dangled in the
water,
creating never-ending circles surrounding
my first step.
A sign of true creativity
in my path.
I remember the first time
the pencil made contact
with the paper.
The first time
if you twisted and turned it,
it could form the most complicated,
most confusing,
most vague
drawing.
I remember the first time
I blew out the candle,
the little flickering flame
dancing above the stick,
my thoughts pondering with incredible
hope.
I remember the first time
I sat, leaning against a tree trunk
and let my mind flow into the
breathtaking letters
of a book.
I remember the first time
I let my heart flow
into a story, yet to be created,
a story of the twists and turns
of what could finally appear to be
my life.
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Bclorc l lcerncd o lovc nyscll, l lcerncd
to love my country.
And at the age of 5, I became part of the
machine.
I became the naive kindergartener
who learns to obey.
lcsc. euhoriy,
don scek ou ol urn,
stay in line.
Nov, ln unlcerning
Nov, ln ve.hing cvcryonc grov u
and continue the silent submission.
ln ve.hing hc oncs in .hergc
underestimate our worth,
put a number on us,
factory-farm us,
and take away our identity
on hc 9-5 shil
Oppression, restriction and psychological
manipulation.
These are the real American values.
These are the real synonyms
ol lrccdon
61
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1hcrcs e ond
near my house
where I go,
occasionally.
ls hiddcn lron vicv,
tucked behind a red stone cliff
and walls of cattails.
You vouldn hecn uon i,
you vouldn lind i
unless you were looking.
ls shicldcd lron cvcryhing,
tucked away,
vhcrc you .en lccl
the wind whipping up the street
end you .en hcer
the sounds of people.
All hes hcrc
are the croaks and splashes
of the frogs in the summer
and the ice in the winter
that sometimes you can walk on.
And I go there
vhcn l don ven o scc
anyone
cx.c hosc lrogs
and the occasional turtle,
when I want to run my hands
through the dry cattails
and listen to them
whisper to me.
I go there
when I want to be
shielded, too.
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ls lunny, neyhc cvcn regi.
Her hands are light, but her touch is
darkness.
The cards played right, nearly to the
point
of misconception.
After brown eyes, blue eyes are a
letdown.
And I
gladly lie there.
1hc horizon
is our own dead ending to cope with.
And is viel, neyhc cvcn nceninglcss,
that there are such things as white
charcoal and erasable pens,
that soldiers fight with the best
intentions,
and the joker always has the wisest
premonitions.
The wealthiest cities are refuge to the
most homeless,
your body is warmest when the air is
coldest,
vhcn ocrys hordcrs erc ledcd, hc
wordplay is the boldest.
Did you ever think that maybe light is
just a brighter shade of darkness?
62
X :@=1G
Young \ricrs lroc. vricrs lovc his .hellcngc 1cll e sory in six vords Hcrc erc
some of the best we found over the past year on youngwritersproject.org with the online
usernames of the authors:
One mistake started this whole story.
(211"+JUUU
Say no to drugs, and boys.
,#$82+"IUU
Procrastination in the form of poetry
$&;)$;"
Sheets of rain, bouncing off concrete
&5&
Lifes too short to match socks.
<$"# )0" (P@ !2+)&#
I just saw a freaking catamount!
X02+% 7MM+"0"8%$28
Cinderellas didnt fit it fell off!
.2829+ V9+P""
I dont appreciate the haughty tone.
%$-2O1#9N%A
Wore heels; fell in big puddle.
&G122P
Can you tell rain from tears?
5@I$)"JU
insert comma here, insert comma there
D"9%O$+"&$+

Running backwards is not easy today.
(&;$&;

Stuff and shenanigans. Beautiful word,
shenanigans.
(098P@
It was silent as a bagel.
Na;"%%$"+
I walked. I tripped. We laughed.
1&+#%)"+JU
And I wear a fez now.
C@++$5*"8
Sometimes things are just really awkward.
8$P&HU
My teachers jump into recycling bins.
F+&8P#$8/
Cargo pants were made for writers.
("M0"+$&
Cute boy likes different girl. (Sigh.)
($8/$8/($/+$5
63
Evelyne, its pouring out of me
for lack of paper, this originated on my arm
forever doesnt last very long
abandoned school corridor with lights that
flicker and die
and here we are, I love you
I kind of hope I can get the guts to let her
read this so she knows
I like to disembowel herbs in the kitchen
(please dont think badly of me)
I. Love. Peanut. Butter.
Ive never been to the seashore
realizing that what people say doesnt matter
wishing for snow day
young love ramblings
the future seems to be approaching quickly
3 am, nuff said
500000% done with winter
a take on the Salem witch trials
alien sends a postcard
Bach, erratic comma use, Frank Glazer
birds and dragons are alike in many ways
I wonder if this appears as creepy as I
originally thought it would turn out to be
Boston, everything is not OK
math class is boring sometimes and I write
college applications and sleep deprivation
dancing in the rain
dear bully
do you get the joke
friends are awesome
goes nowhere fast, random, and I have
writers block
hum de dum
Goldfish toothpaste
hopelessly in love
I dont actually own a pair of denim shorts
I sprouted music
Mr. and Mrs. Emotions
my teacher was telling us about the
possibility of time travel
sadness (but only if you could read my
unwritten words)
what Im doing instead of my homework
the news isnt healthy these days
this didnt come out smooth-like
written at midnight I have no idea what
this is
wrote this after hearing a police car
youll never read anything like it
this monster took me forever
stopreadingthekeywordsandhelpmeeeeeee
F9V@=,;K TK!:@=1G 4$"? "#$ :=,;K=G
These tags from the writers on youngwritersproject.org nekc us leugh, .ry, hink, vondcr
Some writers labor over the perfect keyword to sum up their piece. Others toss them out
e hc les ninuc hclorc rcssing sevc Hovcvcr hcy .onc o us, vc lovc hcn ell lor
their wit, originality and heart sort of like the way we love the people who wrote them.
64
Student Writers and Artists
Adan, Hawa .....................................................9
Allard, Tannr ...................................................48
Ames, Sarah ..................................................14
Amouretti, David ............................................20
Anderson, Jules .............................................61
Berendsen, Liz .................................................8
Blow, Matthew ...............................................23
Brenna, Liu .............................................. 26, 44
Britch, Alexis ..................................................17
Brotz, Jeremy .......................................... ..12
Bullock, Morgan ............................................43
Bundock, Erin .......................................... 11, 33
Burnham, Jack .......................................... 28
Bushman, Kay .......................................... .32
Cannizzaro, Sophia ........................................41
Carlin, Hannah ........................................... 24
Case, Ada .......................................21
Causer, Ella .............................................17
Cavazos, Laura .......................................... ..9
Cleary, Meghan ..............................................29
Conteras-Montesano, Alexandra ....................15
Cook, Anna ........................................ 58
Cummin, Elizabeth .........................................53
Dodgson, Abhi ........................................... 26
Ferris, Noah ............................................42
Freedner, Hannah ..........................................42
Freese, Meia ...........................................22
Friedman, Evan ........................................ 22, 48
Garner, Taylor ............................................ 39
Geney, Kelli ...............................................7
Gentner, Carla .......................................... .33
Gibson, Victoria .............................................24
Giordano, Cecilia ...........................................52
Greene, Cherish Amanda ...............................36
Greenfield, Mya ..............................................10
Hadvab, Samantha ........................................27
Hancock-Song, Julia .....................................34
Harris, Tyler .............................................61
Hatch, Allison .......................................... ..44
Henderson, Clara ...........................................32
Henry, Kate .............................................40
Herrera, Dominic ............................................38
Heyerdahl, Sophie .........................................13
Hillemann, Malin ............................................56
Holch, Chaya ..........................................39
Hughes, Braeden ...........................................15
Hulse, Anna ......................................... .6
Jacobs, Joseph ........................................ .10
Johnson, Erin.......................................... ...55
Kelleher, Leah ........................................... .40
Kendrick, Ava .......................................... ..16
Lamantia, Caroline ...........................................6
Lashway, Erin ................................................55
Leow, Christopher .........................................47
MacQueen, Claire ............................................7
Malloy, Carley ........................................... .30
Martin, Gaelyn ........................................... 56
McDonnell, Tessie ..........................................60
McLean, Avery ........................................... 38
Mechler, Anna .............................19, back cover
Moreman, Lydia .............................................40
Mukherjee, Basundhara .................................59
Mundell-Wood, Wells .....................................60
Noel, Molly ...................................front cover, 13
Pacheco, Phoebe ..........................................43
Pintair, Olivia ............................................ ..47
Powell, Ethan ........................................... ..21
Rice, Jenna ....................................... .20
Riell, Zoe .........................................51
Robinson, Sam .......................................... 28
Roucoulet, Taylor ...........................................57
Rutherford, Shiloh ..........................................41
Skeet Browning, Luna ....................................50
Skinner-Sloan, Ella .........................................49
Slate, Emily .............................................45
Slate, Margaret .................................. 23, 37, 46
Sleeper, Kate ..........................................42
Smith, Hayden ........................................... 31
Soule, Zoe ........................................ ..46
Stewart, Melissa ..............................................4
Stone, Brette ..........................................58
Storz, Sammy .......................................... ..11
Trombley, Michele ..........................................45
Van de Ven, Samantha ...................................53
Weissgold, Lily ...............................................27
Wells, Ben ......................................... .18
Wells, Sarah ...........................................18
Williams, Aven ........................................... 54