Younger

I wish I could

speak to my younger self

Your heart will lose

more of every battle

This will seem permanent 

but you hold all the hope

You are only

a small learning child

They will tell you

‘You are doing it wrong’

But I need you

to choose to live your life

Your past is past

Don’t let every hardship

control how you live

Live every life

You must choose

You will get hurt

Tell them

don’t be so scared

You will be 

Okay, little one

You must live

for both of us

You’ll be alright, kid.

Written by H. A. Archer Jones

Change

By Hannah Criss

Change comes gradually at least that’s what you’re taught or what you think or experience growing up.

The slow changing of the seasons.

Or the way you slowly grow till you can barely remember the days when you couldn’t see above the kitchen counter.

Or the new wrinkles you begin to notice on your once young families faces.

But not all change is so forgiving, not all change can give you warning like the slow rise in temperatures alerting us to a much bigger change coming.

Some change is sudden like the rain pouring on a supposedly sunny day.

Some change comes like a lightning strike leaving you blinded for a moment by the white filling your room.

For some, change is the announcement of a move across the world.

For some, change is a divorce so sudden you’re packing your bags that night.

For some, change is a death that shakes the foundations of your moral compass and your soul.

For some, change is such a unique experience you can’t describe what changed to your friends, because maybe you changed.

Everyone experiences change, change is the foundation of our lives, change is the difference between Monday and Tuesday, change is what makes you unique, change is why you cry and why you rejoice. 

Continue reading “Change” →

Branson M.O

By Jesus L. Diaz

INT. Meade high school — day

We see the view of a high school hallway through the lens of a wrinkly dinky digital iPhone camera. Tracking down the walls in a singular continuous shot with small sounds of wind in the background.

A BENCH

Sits gazing outside the bright window with lights shining down on it.

A STAIRWELL

Sits still with no life left on it other than the view of dust costing on by its steps.

A CLASSROOM DOOR

Sits decorated and still with no life on it.

We see a teacher teaching a class, unable to be heard by the audience.

Cut to:

INT. Meade high classroom — moments later

We see a teacher sitting at their desk occupied away from their work through the eyes of an iPhone camera once more. The person holding the iPhone camera we see through is JAY-JAY (18). A shaggy haired high schooler with something to hide, and not yet much of his character to be understood.

Continue reading “Branson M.O” →

Blue

Blue,

The color of the sky.

Blue,

The color of the ocean.

Blue,

The color of eyes.

Blue,

The color of sadness.

Blue,

The color of peace.

Blue,

The color of tranquility.

Blue.

By: Stephanie Fernandez W.

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