Winners: National Poetry Month Contest

I am thrilled to announce the three winners of my National Poetry Month Contest. I got loads of submissions on all sorts of topics: relationships, self-injury, depression, anxiety, medication, self image, violence, racism, and more. But the common theme was hope...and that things get better.

Check out all the submissions here on my blog. And, of course, take a moment to read the three winning poems below.

The grand-prize winner is Anonymous, age 22 with "Fall."

She'll be getting a great prize pack of books including: It Gets Better by Dan Savage, I Don’t Want to Be Crazy and You Are Not Here by Samantha Schutz (signed by me!), It’s Kind of a Funny Story by Ned Vizzini, Cut by Patricia McCormick, and Talking in the Dark by Billy Merrell.

Anonymous, age 22
Fall

I try to suppress the grin on my face
As I rush, alone, to my next class.
The campus is graceful in its nature
and colors and I’m alone, not
lonely, thanking the empty sky for
getting me to this place.
I’m in awe of the bag on my
shoulder, heavy with overpriced
books. Proud that my four successive
classes give me some place
acceptable to be.
I take notes and study and wear a genuinely
rehearsed contemplative look. I can’t understand
the groans around me at another assigned chapter
or announcement of an upcoming test.
This is it.
What I’ve been struggling to attain for four
excruciatingly long years.
To sit in a class and learn, to abandon my corner
of safety and pain and thoughts designed to
derail me at every haphazard venturing out.
I spent the better part of my first two adult
years screaming on a locked ward,
but the piercing shrieks have faded,
and I don’t think I have to be so afraid
anymore.

I don’t think they can control me anymore.

* * *

The two runners up are Anu B., age 18 and Stephanie Faith Sizeland, age 19.

They'll both get signed copies of I Don’t Want to Be Crazy and You Are Not Here by Samantha Schutz (me!).

Anu B., age 18
Maybe

Maybe I’m not who you want me to be,
But I’m me. Incorrigibly, irredeemably, painfully
Me.
Maybe I’m not where you want me to be.
Maybe my hair is too long for your liking,
Or too short for your delicate sensibilities.
Maybe my pants hang a little too low,
Or I hold my books a little too close.
Maybe my eyes are too sad for you,
Or my hips too wide,
My arms too long, my smile
Too blithe.
Maybe it’s just that I’m too tall, too short,
Too skinny, too fat, too strong, too smart,
Too loud, too quiet, too immersed in my thoughts.
Maybe.
Maybe I’m not everything you want me to be,
But I’m me. Incorrigibly, irredeemably, painfully
Me.
But, maybe it’s not me.
Maybe you’re too…too.
Maybe you’re heart isn’t big enough,
Maybe your heart only feels its own pain.
My heart will have to be big enough,
I will survive your incorrigible, irredeemable,
Painful Disdain.

Stephanie Faith Sizeland, age 19
Stop the bleeding

As she heads for the book shelf
She apologizes to herself once more
“I’m sorry, I can’t take it anymore.”
She lifts up her book titled “Glass”
“Story of my life” she whispers…
Underneath hides a secret kept from the world
The story of a broken girl.
She picks up the translucent piece
Sharpened edge
Sharper than the rest
In need of one more release.
Glass to skin, she carves
Another scar
One more line to match the rest
Closes her eyes and lets it slide
“This is the last time.” She lies.
As the blood runs, she weeps
Always abides by her one rule
“Never too deep”.
The lines are straight
She holds her arm to the light
Studying the horizontal cuts
Always left to right.
Never does it for attention
Or sympathy from anyone
Does it for herself
Because she feels she has no choice
Not tonight, not ever.

It’s about stopping.
It’s about having the courage to stop.
Having the strength.
Relief is possible without the knife.
Don’t cut your life short.
Make an effort to stop.
Make an effort to get better.
Tell someone you love.
Help someone you know.
Stop the scars.
Stop the bleeding.

Nat’l Poetry Month contest submissions

All of the entries for the poetry contest are up! Check them out! Winners will be announced this Friday. Who do you think should win?
http://samanthaschutz.net/site/?p=612

2011 Nat'l Poetry Month Contest & It Gets Better project

Hey friends. I wanted to let you know about the It Gets Better project. It falls right in line with the goal of YouMakeMeFeelLessAlone. Sparked by incidents of LGTB kids being bullied and committing suicide, Dan Savage (the well known sex columnist) created the It Gets Better campaign of video diaries from LGTB people who are speaking about how life gets better after those wretched teenage years. I am honored to know several people that have contributed videos. There is also an It Gets Better book available now! Check out the videos, the book, and the site. Maybe you'd even like to contribute a video. http://www.itgetsbetter.org/

The sentiment of It Get Better doesn't have to be limited to LGTB issues. To celebrate National Poetry Month and get the word out about It Gets Better and YouMakeMeFeelLessAlone, I am holding a POETRY CONTEST. Contribute your writing to YMMFLA and give others hope that dealing with issues like mental illness, addiction, sexuality, and relationships GETS BETTER!

Click here for info about PRIZES and GUIDELINES.

100th post to You Make Me Feel Less Alone!

This is the 100th post to You Make Me Feel Less Alone! Thanks to everyone who has submitted, read entries, and commented. Keep the submissions coming!

Karissa Doll, age 18. California.

Just Another Drink

Just one more sip
But somehow the bottle's already gone
It never stays full for long
She lays in her room
She knows nothing's okay
She knows she's right
But it's all wrong

Through a nights sleep
The day disappears
It just disappears
It's already gone

Just another drink
And another bottle
Things fall apart
The roots so deep
What you've come to be
Just another drink

So unforgiving
It won't leave her glass
This isn't her
It's all just a blur
But I see so clear
The ending so near
Of my loss of faith

Another drop
And my heart stops
It can no longer feel

I've become so numb
I'm just too young
To know who you've become
Would you want that for me
To do as I see
To give up everything
For just another drink

"I'd just stick with you If it were up to me."

Colleen, age 15. Kentucky.

Poem: Too Many People

Their is too many people
in this world I see
I'd just stick with you
If it were up to me

Exposure Therapy I might need
but, even after sessions
I still believe
that their's

Too many people
& I feel like I have
no room to breathe

So many people
that I block out
So I can't see
because it causes so much anxiety

If it were up to me
I'd just stick with you
I don't like being alone
but, I would be okay with finding alone with you.


Poem: His Kind of Red Sky

Lying in the grass
Staring up at the sky
I got a glance
Of his kind of red sky


Poem: He Comes Close

You're a fighter
& you've come so far
Holding on
So don't let go now
No one will ever understand completely
But, he comes close
With your thoughts & your feelings
You may be alone
& in severe pain
But, tomorrow's a new day
& it's never too late
To begin again.


Poem: Though You Hurt

Though you hurt
Though you suffer
Though you may never be the same
You are constantly picking yourself back up
& trying again
'Cause all you really want
All you really need
Is happiness somewhere in between

Things are starting to change
You're realizing you won't be the same
Though you hurt & are afraid
Who says things haven't ever been this way?


Poem: To Make it Make Sense

To make it make sense
You call it beautiful pain
Is it possible the sun will come out tomorrow?
Will the moon & stars show again?
Does something beautiful end?
------->YES<-------

"The silence was too thick to be cut. Too hollow to be filled."

Jamie Lynn Cox, age 18. Fresno, CA.

Sorry

I had a dream last night

That I boarded a train

To nowhere in particular

But I was not alone

There were several people there

Just as bewildered as I

All were dressed in thin clothing

And shivering

Ill-prepared for the cold climate

There were no tickets

No assigned seating

No listed destinations

It was as if it were a one-way train

That would sleepily continue into the infinite darkness of night

The silence was too thick to be cut

Too hollow to be filled

I stumbled to my seat

Trying to recall where I was and why

Suddenly I spotted part of a name tag on one of the passengers

Shamefully trying to hide it in the breast of their coat so I couldn’t read it

I realized that every nameless person had one

Whether or not they knew about it

I frantically searched for mine to no avail

I wanted to know who I was!

There was a drunken vagrant sleeping in the back

Who reeked of his own piss and filth

I didn’t want to touch him

But I had to get closer

I had to know his name

I saw the rectangular sticker displayed right on his chest

As if he didn’t realize it was there

Or as if he didn’t care to hide it

His name was Responsibility

And I was in disbelief

How could Responsibility just let himself go like that?

As my search progressed

I discovered a name for everyone

Worry sat in the front row

Rocking back and forth next to Fear

Who held his head in his hands

Beauty’s makeup was smeared across her face

She was crying

She stared relentlessly into the dark windows

Trying to get a glimpse of her reflection

Hope was an elderly man

I’d assumed he’d been riding the same train for a very long time

Patiently waiting for the train to stop rolling so he could get off

He wore a smile

The only one I’ve seen yet

There was one girl who never looked at me

She just gazed towards the front of the train

Lacking the curiosity of everyone else

I approached her

Touched her cheek

And turned her face to mine

Her eyes were blue and clouded

She reached out awkwardly

To find my hand, I assume

Across her hand I found the name tag

Hello, my name is Blind

I sympathetically held her hand

And wondered if she knew her name

Though she couldn’t read her identifying label

Without locating my own,

I still didn’t know what to call myself

She cuddled up to my arm affectionately

So beautiful was she

Like an angel

I instantly grew close to her

As I watched her snuggle into my side

I saw my name tag across my shoulder!

I read it and a wave of guilt washed over me

My name was Sorry

I realized then and there

Through the silence that could not be broken

There was no way for me to introduce myself to Blind

I realized then and there

The warmth of our embrace would be the only communication her and I could ever share

I awoke and cried.

How would she feel if she knew she was cuddling next to a person with a name like mine?

I felt like Liar, taking advantage of that sweet girl

Someone like Trust should have held her

Not me

I wish there was a way for her to have known the truth

I wish there was a way I could have told her

I never wanted to hurt her

For all she knew, I could have been Love riding next to her

A person worthy of such compassion

I’ve never known a feeling like that before

She held my arm without ever questioning who she was holding

She just did it because I was there

Whatever I was

She didn’t care

She held my arm tightly

Scared

And clinging to the only person she knew

Unfortunately

I was Sorry

And she’d never know it.

"Can I heal?"

Colleen, age 15.

Genre: Song

Title: Circles

Verse 1:
Everything is in circles
Around and around
I’m seeing pieces
Of my mind running around
They would just disappear
So I knew they weren’t real
And it’s only a matter of time
Before I realize
It’s not real at all

Chorus:
The way I feel (I feel)
Can I heal?
The way I feel (I feel)
Is it all real?
The way I feel (I feel)

Verse 2:
Everything is in circles
Even in my mind
Around and around
All the places you can’t find me
All the places I hid above the ground
I remember when I first realized that something was wrong
With

(Chorus)

Last Verse:
There’s a place I could go
And you’d never know
That I’m there in circles
It hurts over and over again
Because it’s around and around
My tears
My fears
Are in a cycle of coming down.

"Someone please tell me where to go."

Joshua Diehl, age 17. Nocona, Texas.

Spit In My Face

We all drive or ride to the healers
In beat-up brown Buicks
With blue signs hanging from our rear view mirrors
So everyone knows that we fit in

Every goddam spot is marked with blue lines
But I still don't know where to go
Someone please tell me where to go
It is infinitely ironic that no one knows

There are no staircases, but concrete paved smooth
I can't use this body, so take away my dignity
I would be content if I had nothing to lose

"Am I caged or am I free?"

Leigh, age 36. Australia.

Leigh's Lament

My life flashed before my eyes
I was taken by surprise
So much has led me here
All the pain and all the fear

I’ve been down and I’ve been out
I have had no voice to shout
I’ve been cut and I’ve been torn
I have wept and I have mourned

I have begged and I have borrowed
I have hated all tomorrows
I have wallowed in the dark
I have grappled with the spark

But I am wise and I am strong
And I can push forever on
For courageous is my will
Though my insides seep and spill

I climb the wall that is myself
To sit upon the shelf
And peer into the crowd
Beneath their hazy shroud

Is that me I see beneath?
Will this knowing I bequeath?
To the girl I used to be
Will I tell her what I see?

If I do, will I be false?
Will I eradicate the choice?
That led you here to me
Am I caged or am I free?

"Drooping like a flower gone without water."

Gabrielle, age 26. California.

“Captured One Hot Summer Day”

the look of her, mouth twisted
down at the corners, drooping like
a flower gone without water.

it was taken years ago - at a party,
too much ego trapped in the clear line
of her throat.

the day before she opened the
length of her arm with a paring knife
her mother left sticky with apple.

the blood (a frothing sea of it) must be
there, you can see the waves coming
in behind the slope of her shoulders.

the thumbprint smears make her eyes
shadowed caves, poring over one moment
where her bones delineated themselves.

if you look long enough you can
see the whites of her eyes, like an
animal caught in a snare.

if you look long enough her mouth
reflects back the desperation in
hot summer days where

she was captured, drawn and quartered
into a reflection that would
last a lifetime.

"He says please don't give up on me yet."

Colleen, age 14. Kentucky.

GENRE: SONG
Title: Beautiful Sight

I can't believe what I see before my eyes
It's such a beautiful sight
I can finally sleep at night
and I'll be alright

(Bridge:)
Healing is hard
and it takes a long time
but you just got to try
It's hard to make it on your own
It's easier if you have a hand to hold

(Chorus:)
It's not so cold
and it's the last day of November
I've realized now
That I've made it so far from so close
It's not so cold
and it's the last day of November
I've realized now
That I've held on for so long
instead of letting go

Maybe it's his eyes
or his crooked smile
that makes me believe everything will be alright
and tonight I'll fall asleep into a dream
of an almost reality
because I finally believe that I can be happy

(Bridge and Chorus)

He says please don't give up on me yet
Makes me want to cry
I finally realize
I have a purpose in life
Oh, and it's such a beautiful sight.

"The heart puts the head to work "

Nafeesah Haliru, age 17. Nigeria.

LOVE SONG
Under the moonlight
Without a prelude
Our hearts formed chorus
In rhythm of ecstasy they beat

Descrescendo to crescendo
Bounding in harmony
In the gentle breeze
Our fears blew away

In speechless melodies
Our hearts kept racing
Love flowing in high tempo
We gave in

In duration of interval
Our hearts reached out
With no doubts
Hitched we re in love s chord

In the mist of stars
In unison they sang
Triad (passion, dreams, desires)
Magically turned into reality

Passing throuph dried leaves
Hearts met in the middle
The highest pitci of emotions...
Flowing through

Under the moonlight
Differences we let go
Passionately we held on
To the slow music we danced

IN YOUR EYES
The fire of my desire
In your sight all are quenched

The power of your gaze
Cleansing thoroughly my heart doubts

Crystal clear...So pure
With a free mind I live

Star-like...ever sparkling
It bauble me with rays of hope

Perfection I've seen...
That motivate the soul

Inspired by a glance
The heart puts the head to work

Out and about
Sights I've captured but no similarities

The future is not certain
But confidently I passed moments of uncertainty

Lost in mystery
I remain calm like the deep blue sea

Bewildered by ways of life
Steadily...pieces found their places

High have gone the pace of time
Smoothly I sailed

The light that shines...
Through the thick nights and heavy days

All I found
In your eyes

"Feeling like i can break free."

Priscilla Hennen, age 27. Leesburg, Virginia.

rise.

i live this life
scarred and broken
uncomfortable in my own flesh.
the pain and fear
rising burning within
stealing my breath
threatening to engulf me.
my only escape
comes closer to destroying me
every time i give in.
i hit my knees
crying out to something
that i can't see
feeling the waves
wash over me
feeling the warmth
feeling the love
feeling like i can break free.
as soon as i feel
a bit of peace
the sadness
it rises.

"Everything circles around and back again."

Anonymous, age 17.

Guilty of Goodbye

I need to get away and
I play the radio loud
When I drive in my car
Because it makes me feel less alone

And you are in the seat beside me
But you are not here
So I wave at everyone that we pass,
And it makes me feel less alone

My worth falls out, dignity worn thin
Everything circles around and back again
I cut the chains, I cut the switch,
And no longer do I have to feel alone

There may be no shoes larger
Than the ones I have outgrown
But, in time, you might understand
That nothing feels more like home

"I can't even cry it out...Not even a thousand tears."

Nafeesah Haliru, age 17. Nigeria.

I HATE THIS PART
I hate this part
When everything is so cold
My head knowing you gone...My heart believing you would always be here

I hate this part
When all I feel is this hurt in my heart
Even though I have to smile to make believe all is well

I hate this part
When I just sit with pictures of you running through my mind
Wishing years could go back to bring you next to me

I hate this part
When all the memories of you close to me bring up the oppurtunities of saying the words
I LOVE YOU

I hate this part the most
When I see you run past me
Only to see it was my mind playing with my heart.

CONSCIENCE SMITTEN
In the pool of confusions
I longed for answers
Dried leaves in heavy winds
Dancing to the rhythm of the breeze
My mind...My mind
Is not at set

Crawling on wounded knees
In the agonies of sufferings
I strived for my freedom
With a teary eye I watched
My rights...My rights
Snatched by evils of hearts

Through time I walked
Days into nights
With all solemnities
I craved for this moment
But now...But now
Silently I watched it pass

Lost in the wind of love
A home I found in a heart
Dream-like yet so real
A hit was never close mind
O love...O love
Reality I face

A THOUSAND TEARS
Looking out of my window
All I could think of was your last smile to me
It has been long...more like ages but that moment has frozen in time
Your sweet words...
Your words of confidence...
Keep ringing in my head
You were mine and I just don't understand why my hands can't reach you now
Is it anything I said?
Is it what I didn t do?
There are thousands and thousands of questions that still remain un-answered
In my heart...I feel you so close
It's hard to believe you re gone
Awake...Memories never let seconds pass
Asleep...Dreams never let your face fade
I feel you in my heart
Stronger than ever I know I LOVE YOU
Days and nights...You keep passing me but why can't you just stop
Just for a moment
Not words
No words...could ever put what my heart carries down
Not tears
No tears I've not cried
I feel it in my heart
Yet I can t put it into words
I can't even cry it out...Not even a thousand tears

"Cutting a line that starts out thin."

K. Quimby, age 19. North Carolina.

Done With A Twist

Feeling the cool tile floor against her face

No one to warm her in a big embrace

She wonders how she got like this

Looking down at her cut up wrists

On her wrists she sees unbearable scars

This time she took it way too far

Putting the razor to her skin

Cutting a line that starts out thin

Going deeper than ever before

She just lays there on the floor

As the blood flows out of her wrist

Using the razor for just one last twist

Letting all the blood drain

She feels no more pain

It’s over and done with

Another scar with a twist

Picking herself up off the floor

She is heading to the door

Grasps the door knob tight

She says it’s just another night

"You will drown in your own sorrow."

Carol Linton, age 38

RAINDROP
The sobbing of the rain
I hear her collapse in pain
On the grey slab
splatter and opened wound
trickle a tear, or two
and you will drown in your own sorrow
an ocean is man made

The winning poem, a Q&A with the author, and the five "honorable mention" poems!

And the winner of the National Poetry Month Contest is . . . Joshua Diehl!

His incredible poem is reposted below. I've included a little bit about why I chose this piece as the winner. There's also a Q&A with the Joshua about his inspirations.

Here are the five wonderful poets who received "honorable mentions!" Their poems are reposted at the at the end of this entry.

HG, age 17, “A Villanelle”

Allie Marie Birch, age 14, “White Rose”

James William Cowan, age 21, “Untitled”

Libby, age 20, “Rest in Peace”

Maryann H., age 20, “Skin Deep”

Congratulations to all the winners . . . and to all who had the courage to submit their work!

Untitled, Joshua Diehl, age 17

The man across the room

is bending a silver spoon

With his mind

The only thing that flexes is sorrow when I use mine

I take a breath through my ears and the ambiance fills my brain

For a moment it is enough

To convince me that I am not insane

I love you, mid-morning rain

You give me the amnesia to forget away

The struggle of loneliness, the uncomforts of a twin-sized bed

Because only one woman falls asleep here in my head

Call it hopeless or call it foreshadowing

I can’t tell now where I am because my eyes are rattling

There are padded rooms for dangerous people

Holy books in sacred steeples

I remember the faces but I forgot the beautiful people

I have friends here

Around their necks they hang bells

They call this place home

I call this prison hell

It is likely that I am in a mental hospital

But the drugs make it difficult to tell

Why did I pick this poem? There are so many things about this poem that work well…and here are a few that stand out to me. First, is how well the rhyming suits the poem. Rhyming is often very hard to pull off, but there is something about the inconsistent rhythm that fits with the subject matter. Second, the dark humor at the end is really effective. You don’t know whether or not you can trust what the speaker is saying. That was a nice twist. Third, I loved that the author created his own word: “uncomforts.” Finally, and most importantly, I thought that imagery was beautiful and very thought provoking. The image I was most struck with was “around their necks they hang bells.” I spent some time wondering what the author was referring to here. The only thing I could think of was a cow wearing a bell around its neck while it’s out to pasture or being herded. For me, those images connected well to the theme of being in an institutional setting.

I wanted to ask the author what he was envisioning there…and that inspired me to do a short Q&A with him.

Can you tell me a little bit about yourself?

My name is Joshua Diehl. I am a seventeen-year-old living in northern Texas with my mother and two sisters. Nothing means more to me than the written word, and writing helps to alleviate my anxiety.

What inspired you to write this poem?

What little meaningful inspiration I manage to acquire is a result of my inner toils, the relentless aching that boils and floods the corners of my mind and hangs from my heart with the weight of a thousand vampire bats. It inspires me to recognize that I am not alone in that grueling condition. If you are reading this, you inspire me. I care for you.

What’s the last thing you read that really blew you away?

“Did the hospital specialize in poets and singers, or was it that poets and singers specialized in madness? ... What is it about meter and cadence and rhythm that makes their makers mad?” --Susanna Kaysen

Who are you favorite writers? Has reading their work influenced you? If so, how?

Dave Eggers is most certainly among my favorite writers. I particularly enjoy his very personal literary style and tremendous knack for dialogue. A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius is a beautiful read, and I would recommend it to anyone. I have very recently taken interest in the work of the 13th-century Persian poet, Rumi. A quote of his that I am considerably fond of is: “This is how you slip into your infinite home: Close your eyes and surrender.”

Here are the five poems that received honorable mentions.

HG, age 17

A Villanelle

Breathe in and think, "Everything will stay,"

Lying alone on a summer night,

Exhale and convince myself, "okay."

Struggling to keep emotions at bay,

Anxious that all I love's taking flight,

Breathe in and think, "Everything will stay."

Foreseeing the fees that will be payed,

Trying to keep my eye on the light,

Exhale and convince myself, "okay."

Squeeze my eyes shut, wish it all away;

Too often these battles are tense and trite,

Breathe in and think, "Everything will stay."

Morose when happiness goes astray,

White-hot flames we should seldom ignite.

Exhale and convince myself, "okay."

Sitting in bed, I plead as I pray

For sanctity, only for a day.

Breathe in and think "Everything will stay,"

Exhale and convince myself, "okay."

Allie Marie Birch, age 14

White Rose

My heart is gray, but it still beats with a white rose laced between my fingertips.

It wraps around my heart as the petals fall into my soul.

As the vines grow my love expands even more.

The thorns sometimes prick but I understand.

The petals whither and decay over time.

They disappear as if they weren't there.

My heart absorbed the color of the petals,

Now its pure white.

But the thorns keep pricking me.

Then I begin to bleed.

My heart turns red.

The deadly vines dissolve and die.

My heart is then alive.

All because of a little,

White Rose...

James William Cowan, age 21

I wake to the smell of rain

Each one dies in vain

The cement has no need

For the water that feeds

Libby, age 20

Rest in Peace

Little girl there's no need to fear

I'm going to heal from these horrifying years

but in order for me to move forward

you have to listen to these words with courage

the abuse was not your fault

here was no way for you to scream for help

Little girl I need you to understand

he can no longer hurt you with the touch of his hand

he's far away from you

I know what he did makes you feel very, very blue

but a better life awaits

so you can stop planning your escape

Little girl you have to stop blaming yourself

it's okay to let go and get up

you don't need to haunt me anymore

I'm dealing with your memories hard core

one day I'll sew up these broken wings

so let go of all your hatred and be free

Little girl you have to stop playing your tricks

you're holding me hostage at the wrists

you have to let go for good this time

so I can get myself together and be fine

you have to stop pretending you're okay

our paths have crossed and I know you're in a broken state

Little girl it's not too late

our soul can come back from the grave

but your shadow is holding me back

I need you to lay down and relax

I promise this nightmare will come to an end

I'm no longer afraid of myself or him

Little girl I'm not trying to forget you

you've done an incredible job holding on to this as I grew

so lay down your head and rest

I'm going to take this painful load off your chest

the healing is coming but not in one piece

but don't worry, I promise it's coming please believe

Little girl it's time for you to rest in peace

so put the past behind you and breathe

go back and play on the swing

remember the days before you had broken wings

we may never get justice for this crime

but finally, you can now rest until the end of time

Maryann H., age 20

Skin Deep

My mom falls back a few steps

to match my pace,

and we continue walking on

side by side

in silence.

She reaches for my hand

and I let her take it,

feeling the gentle caress of her hand

as she runs her finger along the curve

from forefinger to thumb

and back again,

reading the nail marks on my hand

like Braille beneath her fingertips.

She wants to understand

and so do I

as I look down at my hand in hers,

see the bright pink scratches

that I had created,

scattered along the arch of my hand

like fallen needles off an old pine.

She pulls me close

and tells me she has known me my whole life

tells me she has known me for the nine months

before I was born

and that she doesn’t want me

to hurt myself,

that it hurts her too.

I allow myself to fall deeper into her embrace,

fall back into a warm world of

my own heartbeat

and gentle kicks felt from above.

I want to tell her that I’ll be okay,

but instead I close my eyes

and let the world around me be darkness

for a few moments longer.

Second batch of poetry contest entries

Here's the second batch of entries to the poetry contest. Check back next Moday for more!

Submit your poem by 4/26. Read the guidelines here.

Charles Pargo, age 20

Frustration

My frustration is causing anticipation

Because of the decision and hard times I’m facing

Running after something but what am I chasing?

My heart is still but my emotion racing

My thoughts are long and my decisions made

My mistakes and lies have already been paid

But my family I still owe

Because when they needed help I couldn’t open the door

My mind is at a level where my thinking process is higher

I go to sleep warm but wake up cold in a sweat

Thinking about a dream that I can’t forget

I feel pain but I’m not hit

The game is over did I lose or did I quit?

Trying to put my life back together but some pieces don’t fit

I think I’m missing my heart, did you steal it?

Craving freedom but anger I am tasting

Getting past my problems but facing frustrations.

Philip Zyg, age 34

WINTER SPORTS 2

Agonizing laboratory rat in the slush

by a sliding glass door -

a party inside, laughter & cocktails,

he outside, few seconds left

and he dies, with the terminal

image of his female miscarrying -

five poor unborn darlings.

Anonymous, age 17

The man across the room is bending a silver spoon
With his mind
The only thing that flexes is sorrow when I use mine
I take a breath through my ears and the ambiance fills my brain
For a moment it is enough
To convince me that I am not insane
I love you, mid-morning rain
You give me the amnesia to forget away
The struggle of loneliness, the uncomforts of a twin-sized bed
Because only one woman falls asleep here in my head
Call it hopeless or call it foreshadowing
I can’t tell now where I am because my eyes are rattling
There are padded rooms for dangerous people
Holy books in sacred steeples
I remember the faces but I forgot the beautiful people
I have friends here
Around their necks they hang bells
They call this place home
I call this prison hell
It is likely that I am in a mental hospital
But the drugs make it difficult to tell

Matt J Davies, age 26

I think you got the best of me
And kept some for yourself
You took three years of energy
Then left me on the shelf

I wouldnt say i blame you
But youve killed a part of me
I gave too much then lost you
And that Loves now history

The way our friendship ended
Broke my spirit and romance
I dropped my faith in people
And i fell into a trance

I spent a year of wishing
That youd not changed as id feared
I sat at home and wrote a poem
And grew myself a beard

It took a lot to leave you be
And not follow your trail
Or crash your phone and inbox
With texts and long emails

I sent a few of course
No more than 1 a week
But you chose to ignore
For reasons i still seek

I still seek sense and closure
I need to know your mind
How could you leave me sat here
Alone and high and dry

True love waits Thom told me
And for a while i really thought
That maybe i still loved you
Cause moving on was fraught

Everyday for months on end
Id think about your face
Obsessing over little things
And remembering your ways

At times i was so bitter
Angry and so mad
It seemed so unnecessary
That youd treated me so bad

I didnt hurt or harm you
During our 4 years
I only showed you Love
And believed true love was ours

Even when you dumped me
I forgave despite the hurt
And then you promised friendship
And i took you to your word

To be just friends was enough for me
I Loved you as a friend
I was prepared to be your friend
Best friends until the end

On the last day i saw you
When i met your little dog
Things didnt seem that awkward
And i left without a fog

But then you stopped replying
To texts and morning calls
Youd made the choice to dump me
Youd changed and turned so cold

So here we are a year has passed
And im still on my own
I dont get out that much
And i barely use the phone

Im paying the price for meeting you
And giving you too much Love
I simply quite adored you
And thought that was enough

Yet now i must move on
And ive tried to all this year
Its got a little easier
But there something still not here

If you find my sparkle
Can you post it back to me
I hope it reconnects and
Im able to achieve

Achieve the sort of happiness
Of when i first met you
I want to meet another girl
And make her happy too

But when i do i now know
With many thanks to you
Not to get too close to her
Or leave friends out the loop

I cant rely on one girl
To see me through my days
Its obvious that true love
Doesnt last or really wait

So as i end this scrambled page
Of self obsessed old tripe
I say to you my bunny
I wish you a beautiful life

Although you half destroyed me
Youve also made me strong
Despite the fact there was no need
And despite that it was wrong

But wrong or right im still here
And you are where you are
Good luck to you my pretty girl
Ill see you in the stars

Jaycee Rose, age 18

Panic.

I don't know who I am anymore.

I have lost all semblance of logic, of reason.

Of sanity.

Of myself.

I feel trapped, a bitter taste on my tongue.

My mind is never where it should be, I am slipping away.

It's so dark all around me and my lungs are filled with dirt and water and everything else that is burying me, so much that I can't call out for help, for a breath.

They see me drowning, but I can't explain just how much.

No one can reach the depths I have reached.

I'm like a recording, my throat scratching and clawing for the truth to come out but when I open my mouth I can only deny.

Deny that I am so scared of myself that I lie awake at night haunted.

That I am afraid to be out with myself because I have lost all semblance of control.

This had made me lose every part of me that I knew.

It's turned me into a monster, an alien to myself.

To the people around me.

I'm so scared of it, and yet it is the only thing that can let me feel in control.