Breath & Bones Volume 10: Visualization

BREATH & BONES: VOLUME 10

Visualization

Poetry and prose from the Creative Writing Club of Arthur A. Benjamin Health Professions High School in conjunction with 916 Ink

BREATH & BONES: VOLUME 10

Visualization Poetry and prose from the Creative Writing Club of Arthur A. Benjamin Health Professions High School in conjunction with 916 Ink

About 916 Ink 916 Ink is the only arts-based literacy nonprofit in the greater Sacramento region dedicated to providing creative writing workshops for youth, ages 5-25, to transform them into confident writers. We empower students to become the authors of their own lives, one published story at a time. Since 2011, we have served over 4,000 kids in the Sacramento Region, and published more than 200 publications. Our mission is to empower children and youth through creative writing. We envision a Sacramento region where every child and teen is given access to a creative writing program that leads them to believe in themselves and to understand the power of the written word. Learn more about us at www.916ink.org, or send an email to info@916ink.org to learn how to become involved.

DISCLAIMER

This is a work of fiction and poetry. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author and publisher hold exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited. Copyright 2021.

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Dear Reader, What you see is the hard work and dedication of a community of youth and adult writers working together to tell stories that inspire, entertain, and heal.

At 916 Ink, we teach young people how to write, listen, and support each other in the pursuit of creating literary art. The words in these pages are carefully chosen and crafted to reflect their unique voice.

This book is a celebration of “taking the yes,” which is a motto of 916 Ink students. “Taking the yes” means that students are unafraid to collaborate with each other and themselves. It might sound weird—how does one “collaborate” with his or her own self? By shutting down the inner critics in our head that tell us that we aren’t good enough, our stories don’t matter, or what we might say is stupid or unnecessary. Stories are how we create meaning and make sense of the world. What’s better than to teach young people how to tell stories, create meaning out of their lives, and understand the world?

Creative writing carves a path to a better life. Writers know this, but maybe the rest of the world doesn’t. A writer is someone who truly gets to live twice—once through their senses and once through the page. Everyone needs writers. Favorite television shows? Go thank a writer. News articles?

Thank a writer. Education? Writers wrote the curriculum. Business? Can’t happen without writers creating marketing tools and business plans. Writers make the world go around.

By reading this book you’ve supported the growth of a writer. Thanks. Please consider making a donation to this great cause on our website at www.916ink. org if you’d like to further our mission of populating the planet with youth who can “take the yes,” and lead a happy life.

Ink-tastically yours,

The 916 Ink staff, the Board of Dreamers, volunteers, and youth writers

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From the Wordslinger Dear Reader, Our tenth year of publication was not the one we visualized. As with so many other school functions, we hoped for a world of in-person prompts and the feel of pens and paper in a crowded room at Health Professions High. And, as with so much of learning this past year, we settled for a world behind screens where our vision was obscured by the reality of a pandemic that reshaped how we write and how we view the world.

But we still wrote. Behind Zoom screens and in distant homes, students still gathered on Wednesday afternoons to type up stories and write poems because they needed a place to dump their words, and we all needed a space to stay connected. Sometimes the writing club was two students and two Wordslingers; sometimes there were ten students, and occasionally just one.

There were Wi-Fi struggles and challenges of grief and loss and finding a space to be able to read out loud.

As a teacher, it was my hardest year, but also one of the most tender, and one where students wrote raw and angry, sad and gutsy. They wrote with cameras on and without cameras on. And then this happened: chats. They copied and pasted so we could all see what was written. Then this happened: more chats. “I loved this imagery.” “I feel this way too.” “This means so much.”

“What was strong was the repetition.” “I love those senses.” And then you see what I see too.

Visualization. In a world of hurt and loneliness, we use all of our senses, but especially the back of our eyes to imagine: the words, the classroom, other students, how we see the world and how others might see it too. This is the beauty of writing and words. To allow others into our own way of seeing, and for others to look and say, “Oh yes, me too.”

And what I saw in their writing was a whole lot of connection about loss, about rejection, about family heartache, and about the power of being heard and seen.

Our anthology this year is sparse. Many of our creative writing club students did not submit. There was a lot on their minds: working jobs to support their families, trying hard to study behind screens, fighting to stay motivated in

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an uncertain, lonely world. But in this anthology, there is a wonderful slice of submissions. Monet and Elizabeth and Elizabeth and Winter let us “see” their world of trying to love this flawed world and trying to love themselves.

I am always proud to be their Wordslinger, no matter how small the number who show up. We may have visualized another volume of work full of thousands and thousands of words, but in front of you, right now, are the small and tender words of students whose voices are shouting to be heard and whose words are so worth seeing.

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The Creative Writing Club at Health Professions would like to thank again the continued wonderful patience and support of all staff at 916 Ink, who have always had the vision to help students find their beautiful words. I would also like to thank my incredible Co-Wordslingers, Christin O’Cuddehy and Elizabeth Houts, who came regularly to write with and support our student writers. Without their love for teaching and their own commitment to the written word, our writing club would not be possible. Thank you to the staff at Health Professions High School, including Principal Leticia Bucio, for their dedication of mixing art with science.

We hope to be back to an “in person” writing club next school year. But meanwhile, enjoy the words of our students who gave us their brave visualizations in poetic and honest words.

Sincerely,

Deborah Meltvedt

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Acknowledgments Creative Writing Club of Health Professions High School Deborah Meltvedt

Wordslinger

Christin O’Cuddehy

Wordslinger

Elizabeth Houts

Wordslinger

916 Ink Katie McCleary

Founding Executive Director

Michael Spurgeon

Founding Board President

DJ Waldow

Board of Dreamers, President

Dr. Beatrice Tetteh

Board of Dreamers, Vice President

Shelley Blanton-Stroud Board of Dreamers, Secretary Kathy Flynn

Board of Dreamers, Treasurer

Chris Worden

Board of Dreamers

Daniel Kaufman

Board of Dreamers

Dr. JaNay Brown-Wood

Board of Dreamers

Lynn Lizarraga

Board of Dreamers

Michelle Warshaw

Board of Dreamers

Patrick Harbison

Board of Dreamers

Tigh Rickman

Board of Dreamers

Vince Wong

Board of Dreamers

Ian Hadley

Executive Director

Angela Tannehill

Creative Director

Allison Stelly

Director of Development

Nikki Cardoza

Director of Programming

Paulette Greenhouse

Find Your Voice Program Manager

Brenda Nguyen

Program Coordinator

Jay Oatis

Program Coordinator

Nena Larieze

Program Coordinator

Emma Hoppough

Production Coordinator

Maria Gavia

Office Manager

Christina Nelson

ReadOn! Program Manager

Tory Scott

Bookslinger

Will Evans

Outreach and Development Associate, AmeriCorps VISTA

Casey Rafter

Eagle Eye

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Contents Elizabeth Flores . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1 Dandelions in the Promised Land. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 Priceless Gem . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3 The Path to Happiness. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4 Sabe . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5

Elizabeth Hernandez. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7

Written for the World. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8 Ten + One. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9 Confidential. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10 Circle. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11

Monet Burtley. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13 Forgive Me. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14 Never Knowing. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14 My Fault for Blaming You . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15

Winter Saldana. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17

Rhyme of Tricks. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18 Life with Love. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18 Only Human. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19 The Life Before Me. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20 I Love the Rain. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 22

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Elizabeth Flores

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Dandelions in the Promised Land Elizabeth Flores

She screams for help in silence and in her world, she is her own tyrant.

She helps everyone else and they wonder how she gives such good advice.

Little do they know she goes through it every night She holds pain in her palm and agony on her shoulders.

All it takes is one inhale so she feels free but not sober Maybe she wishes she can blow out dandelion fluff instead of smoke that makes her voice rough.

What gives her more hope, though?

With one puff, she can be granted a wish.

Or another puff that makes her feel rich.

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Priceless Gem Elizabeth Flores

Do you love them?

You can never be too sure whether you do Or did…

Just say yes You know you thought you did Maybe that’s what love is after all Maybe it’s being in love with the idea of being in love People should start asking Do you love yourself?

As much as you admire and cherish that one person Can you say all those things about yourself?

Do you find warmth in your own smile?

Do you find happiness in your own eyes?

Do you feel safe in your own skin?

Are you happy with yourself?

Of course, you can’t love someone else if you don’t love yourself I want you to say you make your own heart melt I want you to believe there is no one else like you I don’t want you to rely your happiness on someone else Because you are perfect You make yourself happy Your body thanks you every day, each time you get up Your sanity loves you for laughing at past memories You are proud of yourself for being where you are and who you are now Your future self is speechless when they talk about you There are not enough words to describe you Although one will be quick to say you’re beautiful, strong, joyful, confident, independent, reliable, and loving.

Put yourself first You are worth anything and everything

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The Path to Happiness Elizabeth Flores

She came a long way, just to be back where she started.

It was a long path, which made her stronger, But she feels the same struggle and fear when she stands at the beginning of the trail.

She doesn’t want to feel lost again.

She hopes she can remember the path or possibly even find an easier one.

How could she, though, when she can’t think straight?

If she can’t think straight, how will she walk straight?

Everything is in its place as it was the first time, Except her mind.

She’s trying to convince herself that she’s stronger, But how long will it take her?

How strong is she?

How long will she last?

Will she end up at the beginning of the trail all over again?

Her mind goes in circles, Wanting to scream, but who’ll hear her?

She’s alone.

The only thing she has is the feeling of fear That overwhelming memories bring to her.

As much as she wants to collapse, She knows she can’t.

She doesn’t want to stay at the beginning of that path.

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Sabe Elizabeth Flores

She will know things she has not seen with her eyes.

She can see through lies.

She sees light in the darkness.

And sees it’s harmless.

She sees pain in pessimism.

And no hope is a prison.

She hates the idea of hate.

But is scared of the idea of love.

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Elizabeth Hernandez

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Written for the World Elizabeth Hernandez

The saddest time I remember would be when many witnessed those they least expected to cry, cry.

The slowest event one could think of is a visit to The DMV, alone.

And the happiest beings come from the sun, leading them to being the highest.

And the hungriest come from those down below, those who have been exiled, abandoned, and shunned.

However, Soft exists.

And those down there, with kind hearts and pure souls have the power to help the hungriest.

Exiled, shunned, and abandoned souls meet a greater place: the silliest place, because of its happisity in a dark underworld.

But the hardest being, the toughest being, knows all and sees all.

Choosing, choosing ever so slightly, Who will be the hungriest? Who will be the happiest?

What will be the silliest? What will be the softest?

Who is all-high and who is all-low?

For some reason, no one knows though.

They try to change what was written for the world

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Ten + One Elizabeth Hernandez

The person in tears wandered away from thoughts of the supermarket after hours The person in tears escaped the beekeeper, To be is to be, and to not be is to not be The person in tears went back to the note on the windshield.

“What nobody wants to talk about.”

The person in tears was a rescued child, rescued from the malicious attack of glued hair, leading to the worst haircut ever.

The person in tears cried like a toothache wanting to be fixed The person in tears longed like a dancer needing applause The person in tears.

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Confidential Elizabeth Hernandez

There are many things I’ve never told anyone about me.

Many things that either make me feel some self-loathing or pity Many things that make me feel less than what people think I am So many things that if I even said one, I’d feel instant regret.

Some things make me look weak and vulnerable Others, scary and unwelcoming For, in my lifespan of seventeen years, I have already done so much and so little.

This is what I’ve never told anyone.

So vague and so open, I’ve not told a soul about this For, no soul must know.

I even wish, that for my sake, I didn’t know.

But if I tell you, you mustn’t say a word You are to never speak of this, ever.

Once I have confided in you, take it to the grave, or be put there For this will always be what I’ve never told anyone.

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Circle Elizabeth Hernandez

Bit of a rushy feeling, isn’t it?

Doing anything but everything to avoid your work Swarming you every night Realizing you haven’t got much done in the end Even though you’ve done it all You haven’t done a thing Yet you still wake up each day and get what feels like nothing done No matter how much you try to change it up, you’re stuck in this neverending circle Drowning, drowning, yet swimming Washed up on shore, only to find you’ve gone the wrong way Back into the water you go With the current overtaking you You are gone Forever in this rush of life, never the right way Never the end, only the wrong way.

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Monet Burtley

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Forgive Me Monet Burtley

Forgive me for feeling like I don’t need you it is only what I’ve been shown growing up that I wasn’t needed unless I benefitted you once again conditional love.

Never Knowing Monet Burtley

Oh, to be a fool for what I was shown to be love was a masquerade a facade of darkness, never knowing love wasn’t pain never knowing that love could be unconditional.

Hurt isn’t love.

“Love is freedom away from all things that will hurt you” is what you should have said, but what you said instead was bitter cold words that left from the lips of those who harmed you now harming me.

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My Fault for Blaming You Monet Burtley

You didn’t know how to love me You didn’t know how to love me because you weren’t taught love at least correctly My fault for assuming that you could change somehow for my existence my happiness It was selfish of me My fault for assuming that I would be above all for assuming things couldn’t replace me Oops, they did My fault for trying to be a good daughter to a once neglectful mother My fault for not understanding you when you never tried to My fault

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Winter Saldana

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Rhyme of Tricks Winter Saldana

Roses on fiddles Contraptions and riddles Something about a little.

Kindness was to meddle Sunrise to sunset To hate when first met.

Love is something I regret, But I wish to get it back.

Life with Love Winter Saldana

Life is something but a dream, To hate when first seen.

To love when deemed.

Shoved aside, Pushed aside.

Love was something I couldn’t abide.

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Only Human Winter Saldana

Moms are supposed to be lovable, Dads are supposed to be protective.

You see the cracks, you see that damage that has been done, Why don’t you fix it?

It hurts so much, words are not enough to describe this burning sensation in my heart.

Everything else around you doesn’t matter anymore, other than getting rid of the constant pain in your chest.

I could go in for a CAT scan or a physical, and the only thing they would find is the empty shell of a human being.

A shell looking for its crab.

A shell looking for the ocean to fill its every crevice, crease, and crack.

But does a large enough ocean live among us human shells?

I don’t think so.

How do we prevent this?

I only wish I knew…

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The Life Before Me Winter Saldana

I saw a kid cry the other day.

I approached the kid.

I gave the kid a reassuring hug.

The kid looked up at me.

The kid smiled.

The kid said thank you.

But there was something about that kid.

Somehow, I was drawn to this kid.

At first, I sympathized.

Then I empathized.

And I realized That kid was me.

I looked back.

The kid was gone.

I faced forward.

I saw a grandparent, all alone.

I approached the grandparent.

I gave the grandparent company.

The grandparent looked up at me.

The grandparent smiled.

The grandparent said thank you.

But there was something odd about the grandparent.

Somehow, I knew them.

At first it was a thought.

Then I got an idea.

And I wondered.

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No, I knew.

The grandparent wasn’t me.

The kid was.

The grandparent was my soulmate.

I woke up in a hospital.

My soulmate next to me.

Holding my hand.

My parents at the foot of the bed.

In tears.

The doctor stood next to my parents.

He said, “Your daughter lived a great life. She saved countless lives. It’s a shame that no one could save hers…”

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I Love the Rain Winter Saldana

I love the rain Not because of the pleasant smell it gives Not because I get to listen to its beautiful music I love the rain because for once I feel at peace I feel like the sky understands the pain inside my empty body I feel like those drops of water are tears that I’ve cried in my life And everyone can feel that pain They can see it thanks to the sky The wind carries it overseas to other countries For others to know that a person on the other side has pain like they do I love the rain It makes me feel at peace Why? Because the sky is the only one who can show my pain.

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THIS BOOK WAS PRODUCED IN PARTNERSHIP WITH

WITH MAJOR SUPPORT FROM

AND FUNDED IN PART BY

The Albert and Elaine Borchard Foundation

The Sacramento Office of Arts and Culture, with support from the City of Sacramento.