A Note From Our Team! Our founder started this journal with a mission to recognize teens from all around the world and to break com-
mon teen stereotypes. Within weeks, many teens joined the mission of breaking that stereotype by contributing in some way.
Connect With Us: Clicheteenjournal.com Clicheteen@yahoo.com Insta: @Clicheteenjournal
40 teens were interviewed this past season, a handful of teens were accept-
ed either as an editor, interviewer, blogger, or ambassador, and in addition to that, the Cliché Teen Journal received submissions from teens located all around the world.
Twitter: @Teen_Cliche This season we have created the first
The Cliché Teen Journal is published bi-annually: once on the first day of Summer and once on the first day of Winter. Copyright 2019 by the Cliché Teen Journal. All rights reserved Cover Art (Titled: Rapid Skies ) By Cooper Geere (14) 2
issue of the Cliché Teen Journal. This issue is a compilation of art, writing, hopes, quotes, and more. We all hope you enjoy the first issue of the Cliché Teen Journal!
-The CTJ Team
The CTJ Team
Daania Sharifi: Chief Editor/Founder/Media and Interview Manager
Ben Harvey: Blogger
Dawnie Huynh: First Viewer
McKenna McKrell: Blogger
Mia Hargest: Second Viewer
Anna Lopancinski: Interviewer
Samantha Sherwood: Third Viewer
Kaitlyn Couvillon: Interviewer
Samantha Meyers: Literature Editor
Ella Torfin: Interviewer
Hosna Mohibi: Art Editor
Dani Rivers: Ambassador
ClichĂŠ Teen Issue 1 Contents Rapid Skies: Cooper Geere: Cover Earthlike: Katherine Wong: Page 6 The Artist: Katherine Wong: Page 7 Starry Skies: Tristen Jovellanos: Page 8 Three Simple Words: Ella Torfin: Page 8 Happiness: Autumn Rae: Page 8 Mountain Morning Dew: Cymone V M: Page 9 For Whatâ€™s Beneath: Jenna Lehman: Page 10 Something Original: Madeline Holloway: Page 11 Persona: Carl Chen: Page 12 Word Limit: Jacqueline Proshan: Page 13 Flower: Dawnie Huynh: Page 14 The Bug Collector: Jesse Valerio: Page 15 Fury: Colette Karounis: Page 16 Prison of Fantasies: Colette Karounis: Page 17 Une Porte de Mon Coeur: Ange Lamoureux: Page 18 Star Gate: Stella Prince: Page 19 The Change in the Stars: Leonardo Dafonseca: Page 20 Insomnia: Spike Carr: Page 21 That One Scene: Spike Carr: Page 22
Solicitous Storm: Spike Carr: Page 23 Serene Abyss: Cooper Geere: Page 24 Pure: Nicole Meacham: Page 25 Sheer Heart Attack: Laine Misaka: Page 26 Reset: Laine Misaka: Page 27 What We Were: Laine Misaka: Page 28 I Wish I Could Hate: Amy Richburg: Page 29
Polaroids of Nostalgia: Amy Wang: Page 30-31 Untitled: Kari Lien: Page 32 To the Moon, From One Hypocrite to Another: Haylee Martinez: Page 33 Blossoming: Annalis Molina: Page 34 Unexplainable Joy is the Best Kind of Joy: Jaylen McSellers: Page 35 The Dandelion: Nikki Nelson: Page 36
Sweet Dreams: Colette Karounis: Page 37 Dreamer: Shawna Luebbert: Page 38 Rooted: Alyzza Cipriaso: Page 39 All the Heros Around Me: Alyzza Cipriaso: Page 40 See No Evil, Hear No Evil, See No Evil (Photo Set): Emily Melendez: Page 41 Maybe Before: Amy Richburg: Page 42
My Zombie Husband: Terreni Lewis: Page 43 Regret: Amy Richburg: Page 44 Striking Silk: Cooper Geere: Page 45 Teen Advice: From Teens We Interviewed: Page 46-47 Biographies: From All the Contributors: Page 48-52
Earthlike By Katherine Wong (15) she cried because she couldnâ€™t do anything right heavy tears of lava that skimmed the skin of her cheeks searing right into the yellow undertone a sound bruise and the words sink into her chest as she absorbs it, takes it in nothing will hurt more than these words they launch deep in her bloodstream and swim with the persistence of a white blood cell
but they are not her protectors entering and exiting through mazes of arteries that seep and soak out at the end, the opening onto her cotton clothing it is like the sea above her has hardened into an endless stone wall and her arms reach out to create the mountain ranges that cut the skyâ€™s clean paper edge rock, like the mantle of this earth and she is trapped
The Artist By Katherine Wong (15)
she pulls out her clanging paintbrushes like they are her kitchen utilities the walls are oil paintings of dripping colors, not yet dry in the sunâ€™s bask hands dipped in hues and her skin melts under candlelight she is the dried wax on the candleâ€™s torso
that freezes midway of thawing her hair alight in hellish flames dancing and flickering in the breeze but all dreams come to an end and her mural dissolves into a blend of browns the hair on her brushes shrivel up dry paint caked in the lines of her palm flaky like nuisance dandruff she peels them off easily, like they are stickers but the scars of seared skin remain
Starry Skies By Tristen Jovellanos (17) The blazing warmth fades, once the radiant sun sets and stars light the sky.
Three Simple Words By Ella Torfin (14) Three simple words to say Words that make your heart race and seize up The simplest words: I love you
Happiness By Autumn Rae (15) Crying out of false Happiness Still crying
Mountain Morning Dew By Cymone V M (16)
For What’s Beneath By Jenna Lehman (16) There’s something so peculiar, standing on the edge of oblivion with us Sipping cherry coke out of silly straws marking the days since the last time we’ve been this joyous and charismatic
Skipping antidepressants for breakfast and still finding comfort in thorns poking at the bottom of our bare feet. Falling rapidly against secure railings of barbed wire saying “no children allowed past this point” Though we’re adults now, mature, well educated individuals planning our future and dreams of being billionaires At least that’s what those naive adults say of our generation Marching down boulevards in the belief that we have a genuine say for the future of our country Going to weddings and funerals for those lucky or college frat boys that we appreciated Photosynthesis finally blossoms us into individuals that can carry the weight of the world on our shoulders while it sinks us to the bottom of money pits That takes us to more debt than catastrophe Until we are thirty and struggle numerous times to gasp for air yet we're still young at that age Right? The rest of the world ahead of us but still keeping all of that aside Here we are tonight On the edge of oblivion Unsure of where to go or what is beneath us Though I’ll jump off and form a dive into the place where rocks don’t find ways to echo back in our face As long as you join me
Something Original By Madeline Holloway (17) She stood outside the old, dusty shop, that looked like nobody had touched it in years. Something Original, what she could only presume was the name of the shop, was engraved in a sign above the rotting wood door. The windows were stained with age, a murky brown color. It looked like it had once been colorful, full of life and light, but there was none of that left. Pushing the door open, she stepped inside coughing as a cloud of cobwebs and dust greeted her. It was dark and cold, and the wood on the floors was cracked and jagged. She dug a splinter out of her hand, wincing. The once-ornate shelves were rotting, the things remaining on them covered in mold and dust. She remembered this place now. Once, it had been full of dreams and magic, unicorns and fairies, dragons and swords of destiny, wizards and witches with powerful amulets. And she had been there, had seen it all. She had saved the princess, she had tamed the dragons and learned magic from the Great Wizard. She looked around, her heart full of sorrow. Now it was empty, the dragons in pieces, the swords rusty and dull, unicorn horns scattered along the floor, fairy wings turned to dust and ash. The Great Wizard’s wand was broken in two. Broken to a thin, useless branch. The amulets had long turned back into the rocks she had found on the side of the road as a child. This place was dead. What had it been like, to make a fantastic adventure out of a stick and a hat from a 50% off Halloween costume from Target? She could barely remember, but she felt it must’ve been amazing. At what point had she started giving up on those dreams, the happy endings, the grand quests, the excitement and magic of it all? Was it when she started liking the bitter taste of coffee? When she started watching the news instead of morning cartoons? When did she change? She knelt down and picked up a unicorn horn, dull and gray. No. She didn’t want this. She didn’t mean to change, to abandon all of these dreams, leave them rotting in a long-forgotten shop on a lonely road in the middle of nowhere. She didn’t mean to forget. Running her fingers across it, she closed her eyes and tried to imagine like she used to. A majestic white horse with an iridescent horn atop its head, shining brilliantly, taking her away from reality just for a little while, to an adventure somewhere else. When she opened her eyes, the horn was glowing just as it used to. She looked around, at the abandoned pieces of another world she had left behind, broken and cold. But she looked back down, at the now beautiful unicorn horn, and smiled. This place wasn’t dead, of course not. After all, it was still here, decrepit as it is. She did not forget, not entirely. In her heart, she knew she could fix it, she could bring back the magic and adventure that she used to know. She just needed to imagine it. 11
Persona By Carl Chen (16) Heâ€™s a hard man; no one knows much of him, beside the fact he keeps his dog close near his side, belly rubs occasionally, tongue-wagging sloppiness. Inside he believes he is a good man, a lonely man, yes but a good man nonetheless. Every other day he goes to the beach, stares at the incoming waves, surfboard in hand
while single women soak in his alpha ruffled appearance, his grapevine beard, the tribal necklace emboldened, his sun-kissed skin, the wry frame, the backhand secrets. No one knows much about him: the scars he keeps hidden, the words that have not left
his mouth, hidden in the back of his throat. Ambitious, enigmatic, he keeps to himself and his dog, ponders the waves the serene bliss, the salty oceanic breeze; then makes his retreat.
Word Limit By Jacqueline Proshan (16) When the pink eraser decays from her yellow pencil After weeks of rubbing away mistakes The pencil is still able to write But when the tip is gone, and it can no longer write,
The eraser remains, unscathed Slowing, shrinking and deteriorating Like her crippling, existential fear of time That her years are too short And her legs are too long Whispers from her moist breath stick against the glass As she says goodbye and turns away one last time
She is reminded of the girl Who is no longer a girl And how only shavings remain Of the woman she used to be And now Her bones barely shape her body Instead her body shapes her bones. She studies the corners of the frames Instead of the pictures. And she realizes She only painted beautiful pictures to destroy them.
Flower By Dawnie Huynh (14)
The Bug Collector By Jesse Valerio (17) A dense and misty woodland, To all the men a mystery, but to thousands of bugs known, Chewing on every leaf, banding by every branch, My heart is these roots, the woods are my home. There were beetles, birds, and bees By every turning corner, preying on one another, In this vast mass of foliage, they manifested fear, But then wandered in a girl who was called the Bug Collector. She took every creeping crawler And all the flying monsters inside a little jar, She took away the predators, the caterpillars learned to fly, She was called the Bug Collector who collected my heart. I followed her around, I looked at all the little jars, all the bugs she amassed,
I watched her take them home, released them all, I watched her grow wings, the biggest moth of all.
Fury By Colette Karounis (18) The overwhelming surge of foreign feel-
to burst out this shallow grave and wreak
drown me in my shallow grave.
To get revenge on what it used to be
My own reflection above me, burying me.
for trying to erase its existence.
Trying to suppress me.
One can easily shift the blame of compli-
Me, the parts of her she doesn't wish to
onto a non-related situation.
As the dirt and gravel fall through my
But true courage is accepting that some-
sloppily made coffin,
times it's nothing
they fill my lungs and weigh down my
and no one's fault
except your own emotions.
I open my mouth to speak, only to find my voice has now become one with the earth. No sound escapes except the shuffling of rocks as they settle above my large frame. There I fester, I sit and rot until I become something unrecognizable. I sit there and change and become something stronger. Beneath the thin layer of rubble that covers my prison, A monster grows. Deep tendrils of rippling flames Waiting, biding their time until they see fit 16
Prison of Fantasies By Colette Karounis (18) I never went outside. Stuck within the palaces and kingdoms I had built within my own mind. I was the Queen of these worlds, the creator.
But I was also their sole prisoner. Amongst fake subjects, and false friends. Worlds fueled by paper and ink, leather covers and printed pages. The very items I used as an escape, had become a cage I locked myself within. Trapped amongst the volumes and sagas I called my only companions. The subconscious worlds I ruled were now desolate wastelands I couldn't bare to leave. I walked down roads alone, pretending to be surrounded by the fictional heroes I admired. Rewriting the stories I so desperately wished I was apart of, dreaming that I was also a marauder in their adventures. The stacks above stacks of books had been built so high, I never noticed that they had begun to block my view of the outside world. Only to notice that I had trapped myself when it was too late. Making my own kingdom full of fantasies a prison full of desperation. 17
Une Porte de Mon Coeur By Ange Lamoureux (15)
Star Gate By Stella Prince (14) There’s a man working at The Star Gate,
How to pay the cost of leaving home
By the edge of the road on Highway 68,
When there’s nothing left to believe in.
He doesn’t get paid but still he stays, For a room with a bed on which he lays, On which he lays, quietly.
There’s a man working at The Star Gate, By the edge of the road on Highway 68, He doesn't get paid but still he stays,
So little boy, what do you see?
And says that maybe someday he’ll try to
Could that old man really be me?
The one with the face that never laughs,
He’ll try to change.
And a bed-- the only thing he has-- the only
thing. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time, To see what would have happened if I tried, Sometimes I pray I could try to change today, And see what would have happened if I
tried. What can you say when you want to go, And you try to break away but you don’t know
The Change in the Stars By Leonardo Dafonseca (14) It’s Friday night and you’re walking back to the nearest bus stop into the city. You’re coming back from your girlfriend’s suburban house. As you walk back, you hear something you haven’t heard in years. You hear, nothing.
You’ve been living in the city for years and you no longer recognize silence. You’re used to there always being some type of noise. You’re used to going to bed and still hearing the noises of the city right outside your small widow. You’re used to waking up and hearing the usual city sounds outside. The suburbs are different; it’s ten at night and none is outside. Then you look up and you see them, the stars. The sky is full of thousands, all of them bright perfect, and almost warm, they’re amazing. You’re in love with it all, the peace, the silence, the stillness, but most of all, the stars.
Suddenly, the silence is broken. You hear the terrible screech of tires, metal bending, and crunching, and glass shattering. Understanding dawns in the back of your mind, a car crashed. You begin to sprint to-
wards the source of the sound. You run and you run until finally you’re there. You’re the only other person there and what you see stops you in your tracks. Two small cars have crashed. Both cars are bent out of shape, glass is everywhere, not only is the glass broken but it is also stained red. As you get closer you see the driver of the first car. He seems ok, he’s simply slumped on the air bag. The driver of the second car has a nasty gash on his forehead and is unconscious. Then you notice it, the windshield of the first car is completely shattered, red stained glass littered the area. You turn to your side and you see the broken body of a young lady. You assume she most have flown through the windshield and over the second car. She’s facedown and seems fine, but when you turn her over you let out a gasp of terror. Her face had been destroyed by the glass and the fall. Her body and shoulders have hundreds of pieces of glass buried deep inside. She’s wearing a once beautiful
white dress which is now stained with dark blood. You put her broken corpse down as you realize that you’re too late and you can’t help her. You’ve never known her but tears of sadness role down your cheek and onto your lap. You wonder how such a terrible thing could happen in such a seemingly perfect place. You feel lost and hopeless as you notice that the peace, stillness, and silence that once filled the air are all gone, shattered. In a last desperate attempt to find some peace or some comfort you look at the stars, but they no longer feel warm, full, and bright, they feel cold, empty, and dull.
Insomnia By Spike Carr (15) Buried on my bed under this pile of polyester thoughts, desperation coats my words as I beg Mr. Sandman
for a sweet little wink, perhaps just a blink. For every night he forgets my mind, and forgets to sprinkle me asleep. So I lay awake as the shadows coat these walls and laugh at my restlessness. I shift and I shuffle under the blanket of my worries, until sleepless paralysis holds me still. Still against the walls that mock my open eyes.
That One Scene By Spike Carr (15) This is the scene you'll see, in every romance movie. The clichĂŠ scene, of two ladies in the rain. The girl in front of me, with her beautiful curls soaking wet and tangled And her soft eyes, puffy from the tears that ran down her reddened face, mixing with makeup and water. And here I stand, expensive blue highlights bleeding in the blinding storm raging overhead of this tragedy. It stains my coat, my shoulders, draining out of my hair like the blood from my cheeks. Can she see my sorrow, falling from mascara-coated lashes? Or did she only see God's tears rolling off my emotional shell? Now you would think this movie ends in such a happy way, where I cover her with my jacket and lead her away. But instead, I turn on my heightened heel and leave her in the rain. 22
Solicitous Storm By Spike Carr (15) I like talking to the raindrops, since their words are soft and tender, like a ray of unconditional light. The way the moon reflects off the drops
has always been just as beautiful and loving as the sun and her clouds. The moon herself has always been loving too, She's just a little more shy than the sun. When talking to the raindrops they remind me of many things, And many people, like the first time I fell in love, or the first time I fell out of it. When I'm talking to the raindrops I remember myself. I remember the entirety of me and not just the parts of me I hate. And when I'm talking to the raindrops, when they're kissing my cheek like a sweet girl I once knew, and running through my hair like the fingers of someone who adores you, I don't feel as lonely as I do now. As lonely as I feel in the sun. When I'm sitting in the rain and the drops are singing nonsense, I remember what it's like to feel loved and alive. 23
Serene Abyss By Cooper Geere (14)
Pure By Nicole Meacham (18) When I was little you are the purest child with no worries, Innocent and filled with love for the world. But every parent knows what there is to come, the heartaches that are inevitable.
My first heartache changed me. I grew from it, And learned not to wear my heart on my sleeve. I built a wall to protect me from thieves.
But eventually I will want to love again, But Iâ€™ve become this person with trust issues. I canâ€™t shake off that feeling of betrayal, And I can still feel the spot where he stabbed me in the back.
Time will heal and scars will fade. I will forget his voice, I will forget his touch and how he used to hold me. Because I will hold myself up.
I should love myself first, Change myself for the better. Understand my own worth, Because that is the purest act you can do. 25
Sheer Heart Attack By Laine Misaka (18) Such a fun time...isn’t it? In the lap of the Gods...revisited. Let’s just die You and I. I can’t help but miss You all the time. Been together since ’39. I must confess
I’m in love with my car. My way to destress Is by driving far. A blinding light, A moment of fright, Our twisted fate, It’s late.
Reset By Laine Misaka (18) As we stared off into the distance,
you're halfway out the door
Backs pressed together, silence lasting for-
Longingly looking into your once loving
While wondering where we went wrong
The emptiness inside that remains, brings
Feeling like weâ€™re slowly moving along.
Hoping to start all over again,
Realizing how I must let you go like Rose,
But honestly this feels like the end.
Taking a deep breath and letting my eyes close.
Baby what happened, please tell me?
Hearing your soft footsteps fading away
'Cause one second it was perfect, now
Wishing for you to simply stay.
you're halfway out the door Baby what happened, please tell me? We started as high school sweethearts
'Cause one second it was perfect, now
No one could ever tear us apart.
you're halfway out the door
Our love was the summer sun, beaming down at everyone. Every day, every night, every moment felt right, But moving into the real world was nothing but a fright. Countless missed calls, texting that stalls Fights breaking out, I couldnâ€™t help but shout. When did our light turn dark? Baby what happened, please tell me? 'Cause one second it was perfect, now 27
Refrain credited to: Taylor Swift - Forever and Always
What We Were By Laine Misaka (17) Every night we had a fight
But you start to fight or run out doors
Most times, I’m not sure why
I fought for this, our days of bliss
We tried, we cried, we died inside
But I won’t miss having this war
We both thought we were wise It hurts hearing hate, and besides
Don't you remember
I’m lost, I don’t want more
The reason you loved me before
Don't you remember
Refrain: Don’t You Remember, by Adele
The reason you loved me before Love is trust and faith with us
I forgot why, but it’s a must You yell, I yield, yet it’s not enough I was the piggy, you were my wolf Love is a foundation of a relation But you blew this house you knew away Don’t know what else to do or say What else did you have in store?
Don't you remember The reason you loved me before I’ve had enough of this pain and hate I now know what I need, it’s right I always asked for help and more
I Wish I Could Hate By Amy Richburg (16)
This sun burns a blushing red color into my skin Along with an imprint of its flaming heat Yet I still lay for hours, basking in the warmth
This concrete scrapes my skin when I trip And splinters my bones with each footfall Yet I still run on sidewalks, savoring their solidity
This car is a cage, blazing with dizzy heat And sticky scents that sting my nostrils Yet I still strap myself in, relishing in the nostalgia
This society cuts my soul with judging glares And forces me to second guess the face in my mirror Yet I still show myself, loving the attention
You took my still beating heart and left me hollow A plastic bottle crushed on the asphalt street Yet I still would do it again, if only to glimpse your smile
Polaroids of Nostalgia By Amy Wang (13) Our picture in the dusty case.
You in your sun colored flower dress.
“That’s what makes it special.”
Me in my tomboy shorts down to my
You always saw the spark in things.
knees. My pig tails were my pride,
First sleepover, late night Netflix and cot-
and your pink jelly shoes were yours.
ton candy flavored ice-cream.
We popped the milk flavored candies to-
Your double sized bed, neon lights on
happiness fizzing on your face,
I wasn’t afraid to wake you up in the mid-
“I love it! Do you like it?”
dle of the night,
Trying to pry the candy off my teeth,
because I knew I could be selfish with
you. After all,
We snuck through bookshelves,
we were best friends.
around stacks of novels,
“Sweet dreams and don’t let the bugs
Heading straight to the comics,
to the back of the library with
Star shaped, as if you took it right from
The worn-out orange sofa
where we secretly devoured bags of can-
Our night light, from my last sleepover
with you, Still accompanies me every night in the
The coffee shop smelled like the
homemade toast, butter and jelly
Sounds of traffic,
“Why does the toast look like firewood?”
buzzing from the air conditioning vent,
no more goodnights and sweet dreams,
Now there is only the dusty bulb to stay
And your stop-and-sprint running.
We used to count the days till school ends
Illuminating the dusty darkness.
Ticking off the days on the calendar as we go.
Your favorite candy still sticks to my teeth.
Now I am starting to dread the end. Countdowns become stalling time,
Kids still run around those bookshelves,
wishing the hours to last,
M&M and gummy bear wrappers still on
To spread out like the skirt of your sun col-
but the orange sofa is gone. replaced by gloomy blue beanbags, sagging in the back corner. And still, I go to the coffee shop. But now I sit alone, ordering the same thing. But the log no longer sparks without you. The sun has warmed up the winter, and the walk up to Sports no longer feels cold. The dinning hall smells like last spring and freshly cut grass
And I can still see us rushing along, hands up, heads up, cleats digging up grass from the ground, rolling in spring mud, jogging in spring rain. The field still full of the echos of your 31
Untitled By Kari Lien (18) The eggshells surround you, Broken, scattered, suffocating
There are too many to sift through in one day
And you keep dumping more on me
Can we ever go back? To how it was before all this.
Could we ever walk past? All the black and red and blue on white
Is there a way out, a path thru? It isnâ€™t clear no, Will it ever be? This used to be a house, Filled with empty corners Waiting for love Now its just a place I frequent
The walls are bright white, Which is all I see, Too blinding to notice The fear occupying me
To the Moon, From One Hypocrite to Another By Haylee Martinez (19) We’ve put you on a pedestal, dear. The romantics and I. The feelers and misty eyed
There’s something about the way you hide away,
As if you only strip from your clouds when you
and drunk gutted and I.
You’re such a good old fashioned neck-stretcher
You’re supposed to have all these answers since
and head turner-
you seem to know it all
I’ve got your image mastered with my pen-
But there you are, you nosey little cupid-playing
brat Judgmental and forever mouse-quiet.
Maybe it’s because you’re a leader Of an introverted insecure cult that never gets together.
Are you afraid you’ll open your mouth and make the stars giggle at you? Why don’t you have any nerve? I’d like to shoot back at you.
I wonder what all the hype is about youIs it because you never talk? Is it because we can all see Little blackheads on your skin? Or because you have two faces? Is it because the ocean is the blanket you pull all to yourself?
You only come out to stare back at our tears- my tears. You hypocrite of a beauty I’ll never not worship, my lune. Such a bitter critic, you haughty moon.
Blossoming By Annalis Molina (15) I was born very small Standing under the protection Of those standing above
Day after day As I grew taller I began to see the flaws Of those who once Stood high above me I saw their cuts
Their bruises and bumps And one day They began to wither away And the rain carried them out To the deep dark beautiful bay Until theyâ€™re reborn In a much Better place than before Oh i can't wait To be born very small
Unexplainable Joy is the Best Kind of Joy By Jaylen McSellers (18)
The Dandelion By Nikki Nelson (13)
Sweet Dreams By Colette Karounis (18) Goodnight my child, Sleep tight, Sleep right. Sleep and dream, Dream of happiness, dream of hope. Dream so you don't have to feel, or hear, or see the horrors awaiting
when you're awake.
Goodnight my child, Sleep tight, Sleep right. Sleep and dream, Dream of a world you want to create a world you wish existed, a world of clouds and stars. Dream and maybe, maybe one day it'll turn real.
Dreamer By Shawna Luebbert (17)
Rooted By Alyzza Cipriaso (17)
Every day, the sun shines bright. And here I am, wanting to face the light. The warmth falls softly upon my face, Making me smile, loving every place.
My bright yellow love soars high like a dove. Wanting to shower all from above. Wanting to be everlasting to you. Wanting loyalty in everything I do.
You see my petals and my stem, But you don’t know what’s beneath them. I’ve learned to tolerate heat and pain, Since my roots run deep and help me gain.
My yellow glow has so much power, And I only grow stronger by the hour. The sunflower I am will always grow tall, High enough to watch and see all ‘til I fall.
All the Heros Around Me By Alyzza Cipriaso (17) The warmth of your body surrounds me,
They run through my thoughts but hurt all over,
I am safe inside you until I am dragged out by the
I don’t know what to do.
But a new hero arrives and he comes with a mes-
I scream and cry with my first feeling of distress,
But then I am swaddled,
A message for me to read through on my brightest
I am loved and I am comforted.
days and darkest nights.
A sweet melodic whisper fills my ears saying,
He provides me new wisdom and sets a path for
“It’s okay. I am now here.”
I open my eyes for the first time,
My hero is here. He always had been.
Squinting at the bright light I’m feeling
My blind eyes are now clear to see my hero is
To see my savior.
I am now active, I run I dance I jump I fall I break. I am silent but I feel everything. Intense pain emerges and I smell the iron from my leg. My senses are heightened and a tear is shed, But then it is gone. It is wiped away and I am carried back inside. I look up and there he is. I am healed and I am hugged and I am home.
Tomorrow is today and I am now carefree. I drive around and explore new areas, Adventuring on into the outside world, But I grasp a new feeling. New weight, an anchor dragging me down. The lionhearts I had no longer understand, There is an array of ideas clouding my mind. 40
Photo Set By Emily Melendez (13)
See No Evil
Hear No Evil See No Evil
Process story by the photographer: A vacation to Phuket, Thailand, I came to see one of the biggest attractions, The Big Buddha. I noticed these two monkeys on a tree and quickly grabbed my camera as I silently took some pictures of these adorable two monkeys. For these photos, I tried depicting the common saying of the three monkeys; â€œsee no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.â€? However, because this is a real monkey, it was very hard to photograph these actions. Additionally, as I was taking these pictures, a young monk walked to the tree and picked stones off the ground and started to throw them at the monkeys. Luckily though, he stopped once he realized I was watching.
Maybe Before By Amy Richburg (16) Maybe then, before the pine tree fell
With my favorite teddy bear, Cuddly
Shriveled, in the front yard
When I used to hold her and dream
Needles browned from a drought
Of the gauzy nighttime sky
The massive dinner plate moon When snow lapped at the windowsills
And the plethora of tiny stars
In soft, calming waves And every Christmas was gleaming
Maybe then, before the fire disfigured my heart I could have looked at those crimson flames
When hope filled my blood
And seen the beauty
And sweet visions of the world
Not just felt the pain
Were draped over my gaze
When I ran only to feel the wind kiss my skin To experience the rush of speed in my ears To feel the thrill of energy pulsing in my bones
When the heat was far away, as was the destruc-
tion Before the homes were torn down by the Massive dandelion colored beasts -I used to admire them, now I cannot-
Before my life was melted along
My Zombie Husband By Terreni Lewis (19) His lips were cold, slimy, gross but that’s what the waitress loved about him. The carrion of the zombie emitting the worst smell she’d ever smelled. The zombie tries to push forward to bite her face but she’s too fast, and she forces him back. As he hits the ground his offal from the hole in his abdomen. She stops moving only thinking of the hiss they just shared. Remnants of his cold lips linger on hers, this is a strange love but it’s real. All around us zombies were eating each other and other animals but that didn’t matter, all
that mattered was them. Some would believe that she would need to be in an asylum, but she knows what true and her love for him is true. One day while they were walking down the street, him slowly limping and her staying by his side arm in arm, a man came up to them pointing a gun. This rugged dirty wounded man pointed a gun at her and the love of her life. His beard was overgrown, extremely. He had a scar on his face going right across his eye fresh and somewhat still bloody. “Ma’am please step away from the zombie” he said cautiously. Her eyes grew wide, her face scrunched up. She tried to put up a façade, but her mood was very clear. “How dare you point that thing at him and use such a vulgar derogatory term like ‘zombie’. Have you never heard of a euphemism? He just passed away, is it not good that he came back?” She was boiling, could barely contain herself. Meanwhile the man was just dumbfounded. “Was she insane” he asked himself. The scarred man, now more confused than he’s ever been in this apocalyptic world, just stared at her and backed away slowly. The deserted scene around the woman and her lover seemed to fade away. She prays to Juno, she wants to marry him. The woman’s pink and white waitress outfit seemed to morph and change into a beautifully tight fit and flowing wedding dress. Fires are now decorations, the damaged building behind us now a gorgeous chapel, the dark grey skies are now a beautiful clear blue, and the overgrown plants now beautiful flowers. She looked back at the man she’s come to love. His skin no longer gray, decaying but now a youthful vibrant chocolate brown. His ripped and tattered clothes now a brilliant black suit. She
looked into his eyes and they are not glossy, dead, but now shining, lively, beautiful and brown. Her father stands beside her and extends his arm for her to hold and to walk her down the aisle. Her future husband at the end staring with tears in his eyes he looks over at his best man beaming with gravitas excited for his friend. She walked down the aisle, arm in arm with her father. She gets to the alter with her man now, we say the sacred vows and have the final kiss. Friends and family applaud for the new couple. All she can do is thank Janus for this, for him, and her new life.
Regret By Amy Richburg (16)
You, who sprouts from my suffering
A picture of myself
Claws growing silently from my organs
Rip and rip
Which shoot deep through flesh and
Until the image blurs
Sketch bleeding lines across my insides
From scalding tears in my eyes
You, who is the root of my suffering That turns my own imagination against me Making blades from my pillows and Heavy stones from my thoughts
You, who is dancing while I tremble Victorious with each blow I receive Glowing with vibrant rays of fire and Mapping the constellations on my skin
Piece by piece Fragments of the puzzle Are drawn by you
Twist and twist Until the image is clear
Striking Silk By Cooper Geere (14)
A Word of Advice From Teens We Have Interviewed “My motto in life is ‘You never know unless you try’” - Audrey Mika “Don’t settle for something that doesn’t make you happy.” —Ani Peterson “No one is you, that is your power” -Dunali Hettiarachchi “Believe your stories are worth sharing.” -Sasha Bellentine “Don’t be afraid to be unique and let your light shine.” -Madi Scarvelli “Be loose” -Caden Allitt “Be YOU! It‘s your life, do what makes you happy and don’t let them keep you down!” -Ange “Try not to fall into society's norms of what is normal and what isn't.” -Josh Pouliasis
“If you have an opportunity, make sure to go for it.” -Janet Tung “My manager told me this quote ‘You never have to get ready, if you stay ready’.” -Saf Tajik “A fish can’t climb a tree, and a monkey can’t swim. so if you judge someone by their ability to do one thing that they can’t do instead of focusing on all the things that they do really well, they’ll always believe they aren’t good enough.” -Celia Leonard
“Take a step back and chill.” -Meha Patel “Find a balance between work and passion.” -Neala Luedtke “Keep your head high and you'll get through anything.” -Hunter Sardegna “Be realistic but also be driven.” -Luke Totte “Live life to the fullest!” -Izzy Ngov “Follow your passion and not be afraid to differ from the normal path.” -Grayson Davey 46
“Take time to discover yourself.” -Niamph
“Be you!!!” -Lauren Carney “Constantly challenge yourself.” -Lila Satterfield “Never give up!” -Georgia Brown “Don’t; expect everything to happen at once. Progress takes time and effort.” -Madison Ingram “Always take opportunities presented to you.” -Mercury Avenue “If you want something, you have to work your hardest to achieve it.” -Collette Jadyn “These are your golden years and live them to the fullest.” -Hex “Don’t back down.” -Jeff “Each of us is good at something and it’s so important for us to really hone that skill or talent and experiment with it.” -Kripa Bansal “Do what you want to do.” -Cooper Geere
“Always be yourself and don’t let what people say get to you.” -Lauren Spencer-Smith “Become aware and involved.” -Jessica Hutt “Trust your gut instinct.” -Emily Ritchie “Constantly comparing yourself to others will lead you to never finding out who you really are.” -Seth Pugh “Never ever believe you can’t do the impossible!” -Josie Claire “Always be unapologetically yourself.” -Miss Zodi “Don’t try to fit into society’s standards.” -Neptune “There are no short cuts. You have to work very hard and care about what you are doing.” -Maria Labate “Don’t be afraid to do what you love because someone says you can’t.” Anne Catherine
Contributors Biographies Katherine Wong is a 15 year old and incoming high school junior. She currently studies at Orange County School of the Arts (OCSA) for the Creative Writing Conservatory. Katherine writes articles for the LA Times High School Insider, with topics ranging from movie reviews to opinionated stances in politics. She has had her work published in several places including Overachiever Magazine and Amazing Kids! Magazine. Katherine loves to write poetry and science fiction, and she finds that creative writing has become a special outlet for her emotions and thoughts. Additionally, Katherine has been experimenting with songwriting recently and
would love to explore that aspect of creative writing more. Outside of creative writing, Katherine is a classical pianist and has been recognized nationally and internationally. She also dedicates much of her time to community service and volunteering with the youth, as she is currently on the Youth Leadership Council (YLC) for Pretend City Childrenâ€™s Museum and serves as a core volunteer at the Discovery Cube Science Center. Additionally, Katherine holds a strong interest in STEM fields, which helps to motivate and inspire her when she writes her works of science fiction. Katherine hopes to use her passions in the arts to gain a creative edge and pursue a career in psychiatry and/or neuroscience in the future.
Tristen Jovellanos, born as a Cerritos, California native, attends Cerritos High School and will be attending the University of California, Irvine in the Fall. He will be studying Public Health Sciences in hopes of one day becoming a doctor. As a first-generation college student, he is excited to grow as a person and to further his passion for helping others when he goes off to Irvine. Currently, he volunteers at a local hospital where he interacts with the patients, assists the staff, and explores his interests in the medical field.
Ella Torfin is 14 years old. She loves singing, reading, acting, cooking, baking, writing poems, listening to music, and playing her guitar and ukulele.
Autumn Rae is a small town teen who loves art and poetry.
Cymone V M is a sixteen year old artist and student, who attends the Liberty Bell Jr/Sr High School in Winthrop. She is currently a junior, but is already making plans for college and beyond. She loves photography and the visual arts, as well as design. She loves to act, sing, dance, draw, hug, smile, and laugh. Since she was small, she has wished that magic was real. Through photography, she has been able to make that wish come true. The visual arts are a form of magic, and one small photo can open a whole world. Using strong women, Cymone has told their stories through the photos that she took. Each photo chosen involves skill, practice, pa48 tience,
and a little bit of magic.
Jenna Lehman is a small town girl who comes from Michigan. Where the only thing to do is drive around
with friends until you hit a coffee shop or frozen yogurt place. She moved to that small town in the beginning of third grade, when writing for her was to pass the time. Ever since the age of eight she has been freely writing and expressing herself with words. In third grade, she even created a fictional book about summer camp and mummies. Always using her life and imagination to inspire her. Though as much as she loves writing, math has never been one of her strong suits. Leaving her with only really knowing simple addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division. She loves her three cats Alfred, Wally, and Ollie. Who sheâ€™d cuddle with all day if theyâ€™d let her. Her family also made up of her two brothers and parents who all support her very much. Her parents are her biggest motivators, along with the good friends sheâ€™s made along the way. With English teachers always being a guiding hand when it comes to new writing projects. Always putting one foot forward
and staying determined marks one of her strongest traits. She always knows what she wants and will go after it no matter what. Jenna is always chasing after her dreams, and never gives up.
Madeline Holloway is a high school student from Indiana who enjoys taking pictures and writing in her free time. She has never published a piece of writing before.
Carl Chen is a sixteen year old, high school junior living in Los Angeles, California. He has always found poetry to be therapeutic. Carl has been writing for a while but did not think about finding an audience until
recently. His work has appeared in or is forthcoming from several journals in print or online.
Jacqueline Proshan is a sixteen-year old from New York City who loves to write, watch movies and cook.
Dawnie Huynh is a teen who spends time drawing, reading, writing, playing the uke or the piano, or riding her bike.
Jesse Valerio is a young writer in high school who writes just about anything he finds interesting.
Colette Karounis is a nineteen-year-old Greek immigrant currently trying to get her associates degree in Liberal Arts. In her free time, she writes poetry and sketches a lot. She currently is working on a million different long-term writing projects, but she uses poetry as a break from those and a way to express herself. When not doing any of that she likes watching cartoons and singing Broadway tunes.
Ange Lamoureux is a young photographer based in France but travels throughout the world. She uploads most of her photos to her Instagram <@alcoholicbbears>
Stella Prince is a writer, poet, and musician. Her articles have been published in magazines such as "Seshat Literary Journal", "Amazing Kids Magazine", and "Good Life Youth Journal." Her play, "Becky's World", won the New York City Children’s Theater Playwriting Competition in February 2017, and her poems have been published in "A Celebration of Poets: A National Anthology" and "Adelaide Literary Journal." She is currently a Junior Reporter for her local newspaper, and the editor and writer of two travel columns in “Amazing Kids Magazine”, an international online journal. Stella has studied music at Bard Conservatory Prep Program and Mannes Conservatory Prep Program, and has also hosted her own radio show for the past three
Leonardo DaFonseca is a teen that goes to Basic Phoenix. In his free time he goes to the mall with his friends, goes to the gym, watches TV, and spends time with his family. He has also been boxing for two and a half years.
Spike Carr is a 15-almost-16-year-old poet from Las Cruces, New Mexico. She dreams of one day opening her own café where people come and relax and feel inspired. She likes to daydream and drink coffee in her spare time, and often turns her daydreams into words on paper just for the sake of remembering them.
Cooper Geere is a teen photographer.
Nicole Meacham is a senior at Cerritos High School and her ethnicity is African American, German and Japanese. She enjoys dancing and is currently sharing that love in her teaching when she instructs young children in different cities in hip hop classes. She loves working with children and volunteering in her community.
Laine Aulani Misaka is a decent driver, yet has never learned to ride a bike. Being an acai bowl connoisseur, every year when she travels to Hawaii during the summer she is always searching for the best bowl. She took out animal products from her diet so everyone, even her basketball coaches, calls her Vegan instead of her actual name.
Amy Richburg is a sixteen year old, high schooler, aspiring author and poet. She is currently working on writing several novels (she has started more than twenty but never got past the first few chapters of any) and hopes 50
to become a published author one day. Amy has a deep love of nature and she uses her observation of the natural world to fuel her creative writing. She also loves fantasy and all things relating to magic. Her favorite movies are Pirates of The Caribbean, the Star Wars prequels, Spy Kids, Lord of the Rings, etc. Amy loves to read books (mostly fantasy and dystopian), as they help inspire her with new ideas and vocabulary. She is always seeking new ways of conveying her own ideas through poetry and has a deep love for creative expression, whether it is poetry, prose, or fiction. Amy plays the clarinet in marching band and the piano in her spare time. She also enjoys visiting the park, exploring nature, learning new things, listening to music, eating, sleeping, and dreaming. Amy lives in Kentucky with three cats, a miniature dachshund, and her family. She currently has poetry published in April 2019 Issue of Amazing Kids.
Amy Wang is a nostalgic 13-year-old from China and currently studies in Massachusetts. She loves to write, read and daydream. She grew up in a city near the ocean called Shenzhen where she started to love reading and making up her own stories on her window sill at home. She later moved to Shanghai and kept her passion for writing going. She currently lives with her parents and sister in Shanghai. She started truly writing when she was 6. She used to write about anything that was significant enough to make a good memory. Her writing styles started out from fantasy story writing to science fiction to now, realistic fiction. She really enjoys digging into the concepts of who she is and what she wants to be in the future. She also likes discussing controversial topics in her writing, for example, self image and changes from inner self. She usually writes from instant inspiration and has a lot of good ideas coming her way. She has many hobbies aside form writing and
reading. At school, she plays field hockey, ultimate frisbee and swims. In her free time, she listens to music and sometimes draws. She started playing the flute in her band at school. She enjoys matters of journalism, in the summer of 2018, she first got in touch with journalism and started to write personal profiles and movie, food reviews. In November 2018, she started to work on her first journalism project. She wish to continue this project this year. She also started a literary magazine at her school and has welcomed the first edition this spring. Aside from her busy schedules and her crazy hobbies, she always make time for building her passion for writing. She aspires to be a writer when she grows up and write her own memoir someday.
Kari Lien is an 18-year old write from Northern California. She enjoys her the company of her friends and movies in her free time.
Haylee Martinez is a 19 year old attending Saint Leo University.
Annalis Molina is a 15 year old girl. She likes to begin her work by writing whenever inspiration hits me.
She usually tends to begin poems by typing a line or two that come into her head and build the poem from there. Writing poetry is her favorite form of creative writing and enjoy writing as well as reading others poems.
Jaylen McSellers is a teen photographer whose work can be found on her Instagram @Jaylenmorganphotography.
Nicole Nelson is a 13 year old amateur photographer. She likes acting, singing, playing piano, penguins, nature, food, and of course taking pictures. Nicole hopes to inspire others to show their art to the world, because even if it’s not the best, it could still potentially wow or bring a smile to another’s face.
Shawna Luebbert is a 17 year old photographer.
Alyzza Marie Cipriaso is a popular singer and performer, especially in the shower. To pass time, she enjoys reading the first book of a series and moving on to a different series because she was unable to find the following parts after the first. Annually, Alyzza explores popular national parks and historic exhibits just for fun. When at Starbucks, Alyzza uses her middle name, Marie, while ordering because she is tired of the misspellings and mispronunciations.
Emily Melendez, as young as the age of 8, has traveled the world with her canon camera and set off to see every part of the world. Although she has came across many obstacles, she has surpassed them all with her desire to make a change in the world for the better one photo at a time. You can find her gallery on Instagram at @photographer_hooman!
Terreni Lewis is currently a senior at Town View Health Magnet Center in Dallas, TX. She is a member of the Townview Choir where she has participated in UIL competitions and won 1st place with the choir each year. She is also a member of the Townview Ambassadors, she participates in volunteer activities and school functions. This school year she participated in study sessions with Academic Decathlon. She is the Vice President of the Xinos. Terreni’s goal is to become an Epidemiologist after finishing her Doctorate Degree. She will be attending Texas Women’s University, Denton, TX. in the fall 2019.
The End! Thanks for viewing the first issue of the ClichĂŠ Teen Journal. Remember, the journal relies on people like you to spread the word about the journal, so tell your friends and family! Thanks again and keep on being creative!
Welcome to the first issue of the Cliché Teen Journal! It features work from various teens around the world along with quotes from interview...
Published on Jun 21, 2019
Welcome to the first issue of the Cliché Teen Journal! It features work from various teens around the world along with quotes from interview...