Produced By: Carolyn Cantrell, Jisue Park, Nadia Walker
Thinking Back By: Jisue Park
Thinking back I wish we had more time thinking back we could have been together for a life time
I miss and grieve every place I've been I miss and grieve all the things I've seen
faces of childhood friends who used to be everything to me faces of childhood friends who are now as far away as the sea
and the dreams we had that were so precious and dear the dreams we had that are now, not so clear
the dreadful thing about moving is saying "bye" to my friends the dreadful thing about moving is not knowing when I'll see them again
thoughts like "what if" fill my head what if I hadn't gone ahead?
would I still be the person I am today? how would my life turn out to play?
Seeing By: Carolyn Cantrell
Green and Gold By: Nadia Walker
As I open my eyes I’m met with a breath of fresh air Insecurities lifted Inhibitions released Mind clear
That’s what happens when I see you When my eyes meet yours every worry fades
You were my air A new beginning A light in a dark world created by my own thoughts My own distractions
I’ve learned a lot about myself from you All the times I was stuck in my own head I was the real cause of my negative feelings
Glancing at the mirror was the bane of my existence The dread I’d feel in the pit of my stomach I was used to that sharp, anxious feeling of lost confidence Who was the girl staring back at me?
Now when my eyes meet the reflective surface, I see a different picture A painting I never knew existed I’m staring back at myself encased in Green and gold.
Migraine By: Carolyn Cantrell
They're Watching By: Carolyn Cantrell
They stare at me. Beady, glassed-over eyes track my every move around the room. Constantly staring -- what could they want from me? They won’t leave me alone. All they know how to do is watch. They belong to me, but recently, I’ve felt as if I belong to them. I’m being monitored. They know my every move, my patterns, everything about me. I want them to leave, but they are mine, and I am theirs. No one believes me. They all believe an inkling of insanity is dripping into my veins. I don’t leave the house. I want to, but I know they're watching. Everywhere, there’s no use leaving the house -- they’re in every nook and cranny. They plague me; glued onto every inch of vulnerable flesh. Maybe they know I’m watching them, too. Maybe they are suspicious of me, so they keep their eyes fixated at all times. They know -- they know everything. They know what I’ve done. The horrible atrocities. The way her blood slipped from the bag and onto the stained carpet. They saw it all. They watch intently; I’m sure they know every detail. They’ve probably already told the police. She knew, too. She knew. She couldn't have not known. Why else would she come with me? She knew they were watching me, knew that I would be caught. Knew they would tell on me.
They watch me. She watches me now, too. Her eyes fogged over blue. She wouldn’t watch me. She didn’t wanna look. She had to look. Her eyes are open now though, I just wish there were prettier staples. She can’t tell if she doesn’t have her tongue, but she can watch. They can watch all they want.
Journey To Find Happiness By: Cheyenne Carter
I’d like to know the taste of honey in my life Leave behind all of this strife Walls of anger and indifference tumble down As the dam falls, I feel I will no longer drown
I was angry for such a long time By myself, I made life’s great climb I didn’t know how to let others in I didn’t want to bother others, so I struggled from within
Now I see the error in my ways I need love and support and praise I did not let anyone close So none of my needs were met, to say the most
I’m happy now This I avow I’m still learning and growing every day As I go about my day being gay
I hope to never return to the darkness But if I do, I know I’m blessed My family will be by my side As I go about this crazy ride.
PRIDE By: Nadia Walker
Some may call me stubborn I've heard it before People try to say I'm petty But I choose to ignore
Give me my time Let me go at my own pace I will eventually right my wrongs But right now I need my space
I can go the distance It's sort of tit for tat Forgive me for prolonging the issue I'm just used to doing that
I'm s-sorry I ap-pologize Saying these words doesn't come easy But you can see the sincerity in my eyes
I know that I'm a work in progress I promise that I try Excuse me for being so headstrong It's just what comes with my pride.
Rock and Roll By: Jisue Park
“Next.” I take a nervous breath. Holding my guitar strap with a death grip, I walk into the audition room. My eyes quickly take everything in, the adrenaline from my nervousness heightening my senses. The judging panel is in front of me, five judges in total, and they’re paying no attention to me at all. I timidly step to the chair that’s right in the middle of the empty room and crouch down onto the seat. I awkwardly sit at the edge of my seat, waiting for someone to speak up. My leg starts jiggling up and down on its own, sweat dripping from the palms of my hands as I adjust my grip on the guitar strap once again. Finally, someone looks up, a middle-aged man in the far left, and says, “Name?” “Oh, um, it’s Andy Collins. Sir,” I tell him, cringing at how I stumbled over my words. I force my leg to stay still as the judges flip their pages and start writing things. This time, the woman in the middle speaks. “So, Mr. Collins. You may begin the audition,” she says, giving me a small hint of a smile. I nod, placing the guitar gently onto my leg. I feel a little bit at ease, the familiar touch of the guitar calming me. Closing my eyes, I take one last breath and begin playing. Instantly, I am at ease. My fingers strum and press down on the strings, having a mind of their own. I don’t think about anything, my mind only focusing on the music. The beautiful chords of music fill my ears, and I feel a sense of euphoria as I play the song. The guitar and my soul connects, as it always does when I perform, and I remember again, how and why I started music. This moment, these feelings of happiness I get made me start music. Every strum makes me alive, and I relish every single moment. The song slowly comes to an end, and soon, I come back to the harsh reality. Opening my eyes, I see the judges jotting down notes, not even caring about the emotions, the rawness from the song. I sigh, shaking my head to myself. Not here either. I lift myself up from the chair. Questioning looks come my way from the panel as I turn to leave. “Mr. Collins? You are not yet done with the audition. Are you leaving already?” The lady in the middle asks. My hand rests on the doorknob, about to pull open the door. But I stop myself. “Yes. I found out I don’t want to audition here anymore,” I tell them, not feeling as anxious talking to them as I was before. “Why did you even come to this audition then?” a different voice asks this time. His annoyance could be heard, seeping from the words. I turn my head to look at all of them in the eye. In every single one of them, I see the same old calculating gaze, the judgmental looks, the occasional irritated looks in their cold eyes. “I came because I want to get a job in a rock and roll band.” I pause. “But I can’t work with anyone who doesn’t have the same goals in music that I do. You just don’t get it.” I smile slightly at them. “It’s not just about high scores and points. You have to learn how to enjoy the music before expecting others to be good and judging them.” Then I turn to leave for real this time.
You and Me Against the World By: Canah Dawson
I've seen it: The self that reaffirms your worthlessness, The relentless one that beats you down, Squeezes to see if you could be any better, Is the same self that will welcome you, Defeated, tear-stricken, and shaking, Into a hug that evaporates your discontent, Like scant rain on summer concrete, Press a kiss to your cheek wet with tears, And say "you've done well" in that same grave tone, The twist in their eyes speaking to everything they've seen of you: everything.
Home
By: Jisue Park
It’s different, for sure. No time for this No time for that You can’t do that, we don’t have enough time! Everything and everyone is busy. Everything and everyone is trying to go so, so fast. You have to do this to succeed You’ll lose your chance Hurry up Don’t waste time! I remember when we could just sit and do nothing. Where did those times go? Why isn’t anyone stopping to look where they’re going? Why can’t we stop and pause for a second? Don’t just sit around and do nothing Do you want to fail? Keep going! Don’t stop Sometimes it’s too much for me. I need to meet everyone’s expectations. I need to be the best. I need to be successful because if I don’t, what will I become? You need to be better This isn’t enough Give me more There won’t be a next time I want to stop, I want to pause, I want to breathe and look around, but I can’t… I can’t… and then I break. I don’t have enough time I’m busy that day I can’t Sorry And at those times, when I can’t stop, when I can’t breathe, one thing brings me to the place I belong. Everything about it is simple, straightforward, but at the same time, it’s complicated, confusing, and so diverse. “A hundred bad days Made a hundred good stories A hundred good stories Make me interesting at parties” Music. It defines me, it fills me, it lets me breathe and look around. Every note, every melody, every beat allows me to go slow and pause for a second. “The dawn right before the sun rises is the darkest” “I do believe your galaxy” “Who are you living for?” “Go on your own path” And the lyrics. Oh, the lyrics! They comfort me, they handle my pain, they give me reason to get back up from my darkness and try again. “All the scars from your mistakes Make up your constellation” “No darkness, no season is eternal” “Since the brake’s broken, step on the accel” So whenever I feel down, whenever I feel lonely, whenever I break and I don’t think I can get back up again, I turn on a song, and I breathe.