6 minute read
Amuse, Kole Redmond
Run, run, little phoenix
Valentina Llano
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My father, the king messed with fire, Tangled me in lies, Led my very soul astray, Oh, those fiery cries.
Run, run, little phoenix, I chirped into my mother’s arms, Run, run, little phoenix, I learned to fly too young.
The king barked his orders, At my kin and I for too long, My mother’s weary storm inside, Had to erupt soon enough.
Run, run, little phoenix, I will one day find the sun, Run, run, little phoenix, The moon knows my solemn song.
The king with wrinkles and smolders, From his battles with the caged beast, He thought himself the victor, I kicked and bleated endlessly.
Run, run, little phoenix, Each scar is an earned win, Run, run, little phoenix, Ignore his stupid grin.
My kin was deaf to my cries, But I know one day, Despite all this trauma, My scream will pierce this world away.
Run, run, little phoenix, This cage is closing in, Run, run, little phoenix, My fire is growing thin.
aLMA
Ariana Soto
September 29, 2015
Charleey Kaplan
`The cherry hardwood projected a glare as the sun hit the crown, dirt, weeds, and brokendown sediment all piled onto the cherry until the casket was covered with the soil we stood on. The tears melted into my skin, I said my goodbyes to my father and turned around to see him there staring at me with his mistress grasping his arm while his new family surrounded him. I buried the father I once knew on September 29, 2015. I buried my dad but sit down to dinner with him every other weekend. The man that stayed up late to watch movies with me was below the cherry wood, the dad that sliced me apples every night after dinner wasn’t the same man that drove me to school all of seventh grade. The man that kissed my best friend’s mom and made his new daughters laugh wasn’t the same one that checked on me every five minutes after tucking me in and leave “magic potion” hidden around the house to drink before bed to ward off the nightmares. I buried my father on September 29, 2015, but that didn’t stop me from craving the validation he once gave me. I threw myself at school pouring every ounce of my mind and energy into learning, I solved problem after problem, wrote essay after essay, craving validation from anyone who would give it. Every teacher who commended me for my work would bring me temporary satisfaction, but nothing filled the insatiable thirst for validation from the person I buried on September 29, 2015. As years went on, I realized the man I buried was gone; he wasn’t coming back and that’s when my mind as a fifteen year old spiraled into self-blame. Thoughts clouded my mind and heart, “He left because of me,” “Maybe if I was a better daughter he would still be here and my mom would still be happy and my sister wouldn’t be sad and confused.” My mind was filled with blame and disgust and I sat in the bathroom with my head in my knees wishing for a new life. I prayed for a bright red button to be in my bedroom waiting for me everyday after school where all I had to do was click it and I had the man under the cherry back. I knew this button would never appear and soon I stopped waiting. My mom’s hugs surpassed all the hugs I missed out on from my dad, my sister’s laughter made me forget there was a time when the man under the ground even existed and my mom’s dinners tasted better than any sliced apple. My grades and all the work I did was no longer for my dad and his validation, it was for me. I stopped twiddling my thumbs waiting for the restart button or for my father to return and give me a hug and just hold me. Instead. I started noticing the love I was already surrounded by. I understood the new life I was gifted with, not burdened with, but I still missed the man I buried. I still wanted the bedtime stories he told and the kisses he gave, but I came to peace with those things being my past. I haven’t completely moved on, I’ve moved with the trauma that I went through, and I’ve navigated my life with those experiences always being a part of me. I don’t have to be okay with the experiences I’ve gone through, but I have accepted them and allowed them to make me the independent strong young women I’ve become and also let them motivate me and push me to become hardworking and set goals for myself in life without letting them tear me down. Today I know that without accepting that my former father was gone I would have never become who I am today. Mourning
Jimena Carbajal
The Beauty in Pain The Beauty in Pain
Charleey Kaplan
“We rip out so much of ourselves to be cured of things faster than we should that we go bankrupt by the age of 30 and have less to offer each time we start with someone new. But to feel nothing so as not to feel anything-what a waste.”
The first time I heard this quote from the movie Call Me by Your Name it planted flowers all around my brain, it grew in all the places and moments I felt pain. It made even the sorrow I felt after losing people in my life and the heartbreak and all the pain I’ve ever felt seem beautiful. Despite all the pain, I felt it also meant I felt so much happiness and love before this, all those memories that I reminisce on when I felt this pain were moments when I was so full of joy. So as to push my feelings of the pain away and become cold after each time I was hurt, I would never feel these moments of joy and bliss that I once felt before.
By not allowing ourselves to become attached and submerge ourselves in these strong happy and loving feelings purely because were scared of the inevitable pain, we rob ourselves of the joy of life based on fear of what could be, based off the fear of hurt, and going back to that place of pain and sorrow we felt the last time we were happy.
Although I say these things and push the idea that we cant rob ourselves of joy upon the fear of pain I’ve only recently been an advocate for this belief, recently as in the moment I heard this quote echo from my tv, the moment I saw these words trace across the bottom of my screen. I used to do the opposite, I used to push away and never allow myself to succumb to those feelings of bliss and happiness in the fear, that like in the past, they would be ripped away from me, and id be left with just memories and pain. Now looking back I’m okay with being left with just memories because those memories still in the moment made me feel those powerful feelings of love and happiness and without risking the possible feeling of pain I would have never felt these things. The risk of pain may seem scary and the feelings of pain and sorrow definitely are but to try and feel nothing to save ourselves from feeling anything is not living.
