Vol. 1, No. 1
Editor-in-Chief: Dalia Matias
Art Direction Associate: E. McCain
Editorial Associates: Ahtesamul Chowdhury, Shane Rivera, Briana Suero
Staff Editor/Advisor: John Istel
ELA Staff Advisors: Brett Burns, John Chiaravalloti, Alexa Lee, Rachel Posner, Ranisha Singh, Andreas Stavropoulos
Design Advisor: Charity Lord
Melanin is the secret to life
Made in mother Africa a black man and a black woman earned their stripes
Building communities and villages with folktales and bliss
But soon another white man and women annexed these ships
The culture never got lost but somehow forgotten
Black love and care died in one another
Now lighter is better and dark is dismissed
The community was dismantled not because of white but black people let it
Hold my mirror and let it reflect the pain
That’s the type of blood that is coursing through our veins
So what makes you better because you are lighter
We all came from the same black mother and father.
12/17/1914
DearKlaus,
Hello,howareyou?Ihopethatyouaredoingwell.Ithasbeendifficultnothavingyouherethe pastcoupleofmonths,butIamsureyouwillbeokay,andthatmakesmeokay.Ihavesome excitingnewsforyou,dear.Itisaboutthebaby.Ifoundoutwhatwearegoingtobehaving today.We’rehavingaboy!Justlikeyouwerehoping.Hopefullyyouwillcomehomeintimeto meethim.Iknowwe’vebeenhavingabitoftroublecomingupwithaname,butIhaveareally goodideaofwhatheshouldbenamed.HowdoesJürgenMüllersound?Ithinkit’saverystrong soundingname,muchlikeyours.Idomissyouverydearly,Klaus.
YourmotheriscomingoverthisafternoontohelpmeworkonJürgen’snursery.Shemissesyoua lotaswell.She’salsogoingtobewithmeformynextcheckuponJürgen.Iwasthinkingof paintingoneofthewallsblue,butnotjustanyblue.Agorgeousblue.Onethatremindsmeof thatbouquetofkornblumen(cornflowers)youbroughthometome.Yourmothershouldbehere inafewmoreminutes.Iwillbelookingforwardtoyourresponse,mylove. Stark und sicher bleiben. Vergessen Sie uns nicht. (Staysafeandstrong.Don’tforgetus.)Untilthenextletter.
Love,
Clara Müller
12/26/1914
Dear Clara,
I am very happy to hear about our baby, my love. Jürgen sounds like such a wonderful name as well. I miss you so much, Clara. Although it’s been difficult being away from home, it’s been even more difficult being out on the Front. Remember how you said you would never want guns to advance any further? Well they have us using machine guns now. And it’s so cold living in these trenches, and we barely get enough food. I am in more danger than I was before. Who knows what they’ll bring into this war next? I don’t want to stay here any longer to find out.
Some other soldiers told me that if I get injured then I can get sent back home. It may look as if I’m being a coward for not being able to stay and fight for my country, but if you saw half of the things I’ve seen, you’d fully understand. I’m going to give away my position from my spot in the trench so I can get shot at. Just enough so that I can go home and see you and Jürgen. I hope to see you very soon, Clara. I’m coming home. I promise.
With
Love,
Klaus Müller
2/17/1915
DearKlaus,
Iapologizefornotgettingbacktoyousooner,I’vejustbeenbusywithdealingwiththerelatives. Pleasedon’tfollowthoseothersoldiers.You’llgetyourselfhurt,I’msureofit.Ialreadyhaveto dealwithyounotbeinghomefornow,butIknowIcan’tdealwitheventhethoughtofyounever cominghomeatall.Pleasejuststaysafeandtrytoholdoutalittlebitlonger,mydear.Ihave faithyoucan.YourmotherandIfinishedJürgen’snurseryawhileback.ItcameoutjustlikeI dreamedofit.Thebluecolorwepaintedthewallisexactlythesameasthe kornblumen I previouslywroteabout.Anabsolutelygorgeousblue.
Ican’twaittomeetmylittlebachelor’sbutton.That’sthenicknameIdecidedtogiveourJürgen bytheway.IhopeyoulikeitasmuchasIdo.Ishouldbedueanydaynow.Ifyoudoendup goingthroughwithyourplanandyoudon’tfullyhurtyourself,whichIwillbeprayingthatyou don’t,thenIwillbelookingforwardtoseeingyou.Pleasebeokay,Klaus.Icannotloseyou.
Love,
Clara Müller
6/30/1915
Klaus,
You cannot do this to me. Especially not now. You have to find some way to get back to me. Well, perhaps my last letter got lost or was just sent to the wrong person? Or maybe I should stop overthinking because you are in fact on a war front and don’t always have time to sit down and write to your wife? Oh, that doesn’t matter. It’s been four months since I last wrote to you and you said you’d be home. Maybe you got the letter and it…
It’s actually all my fault for telling you to not try and get yourself sent home. If you do end up getting this letter, please come home. I need you now more than ever. You are probably wondering about how the baby is doing, but that’s what the main point of this letter is.
Jürgen was already gone before I gave birth to him. He was stillborn. I lost him. We lost him, Klaus. Which is why I need you to come home as soon as you can. I can’t deal with the guilt that I’ve been feeling ever since I found out. Please. At least respond to me as soon as you possibly can. I need to know that you’re still okay.
Love, Clara Müller
To :Clara L. Müller
Madam,
We regret to inform you of the untimely death of Klaus S. Müller which occurred on the Western Front on the 17th of July . This is to report to you that he was killed in action . We send our condolences and express regret from the Army Council. A separate leaflet dealing more fully with this subject is enclosed.
I am,
Your obedient Servant, Jürgen Wilhelm, Lieut. Colonel
I woke up this morning, and like every other day, my stomach growled. Today was different though I could literally smell it in the air. Food. Not only food but meat. A delicacy I have not eaten in a while. Since the war started eight years ago, most protein-heavy food went to the super soldiers that are fighting the war. Nuclear bombs that rained from the sky killed most of the livestock and the little that we had left was preserved. Civilians like us have been forgotten and left to fend for ourselves. Sometimes the little group we live with seizes food trucks heading to the front lines.
“Eat up,” Mama says solemnly, as she places the plates full of cooked meat in front of my father and older brother, Arvid. The same meat they had eaten yesterday, too. She then sits down. I knew that I was not getting a plate today. I have not for a while. I understand why. Papa and my brother Arvid need the strength to go hunting for a few days. Mama needs to care for the house. I know when they get back I would get a lot of meat. Arvid starts crying suddenly.
“I can’t do it!” With shaking hands and tears streaming down his face, he pushes the plate away. Trembling slightly, Mama turns to Arvid.
“You must my son!” she whispers. Arvid looks up from the table.
“HOW COULD YOU! DO YOU NOT LOVE HIM?” I saw Arvid’s face full of fury and shame. ‘What is happening?’ I ask myself. I am too afraid to speak or stand. I have never seen Arvid this mad.
“He would have wanted this! And of course I love him! How could you say otherwise?” Mama yells back.
A loud knock on the door startles everyone, including myself, yet I am thankful for the noise. Mama, Papa, and Arvid’s faces pale. Papa stands to open the door as do I. My uncle stands outside the door with a few other people, each holding rope and a sack. I am about to greet him but he speaks before I can get to the door.
“Why my dear brother,” he softly says to Papa. “Why?” Papa begins to cry. I notice Mama crying behind me, too. “You have committed a terrible crime. Almost everything is forgivable now, but murder never will be!”
A person hands him a sack. The sack was bloody from the bottom and the liquid slowly fell from the corners and collected in a small puddle near my uncle's feet.
As he pulled out what was in the sack, the first thing I saw was straight brown hair, and between the two thin eyebrows a scar that I recognized immediately, and then a pair of closed eyes. I knew that the blue behind those eyelids were ‘as pretty as the sea’ like Mama had said many times. Next, lips. Lips that had never kissed anyone and that never would. Lastly, a neck that had been cut so precisely and with much care.
I feel water fall on my hand and realize I’m crying. Crying because I remember everything that had taken place yesterday.
“I worked with you in enough surgeries to know how you slice skin.” Uncle was talking to father. He was the group’s only other doctor.
I look back at the small table which contain the plates with meat and feel nauseous. The smell of burnt flesh lingers in the heavy atmosphere and the party at the door seems to notice, too.
“Mybrotheryoudidnot!” my uncle screams, pushing past my papa and into the small cottage. Mama and Papa and even Arvid cry with grief.
“We got hungry Eirik, w-we needed food. No one has eaten in days and Marius was sick. He was d-dying,” my father explains quickly
“We thought you just killed him but it’s worse.” My uncle has turned green and quickly sprints to the nearest wall to throw up. He wipes away the bile on his mouth.
“Please, Brother. Would you have not done the same for your family? The family you have left in this heinous filled world?” Father’s words fall on deaf ears as uncle says his next words slowly.
“I would never consume the flesh of a precious person like Marius. Take them away.”
I ignore everything after that. I ignore the people coming into the house who escort my family away, I ignore the way they put nooses around their necks, I ignore the pleading and wailing and the sounds that come out of their mouths as they suffocate. I cover my ears so I don’t hear the pop their eyeballs make when they come out of their sockets. When I hear nothing else I uncover my ears. My uncle comes in the cottage.
“I'll bury your bones, Marius,” he says.
“Thank you, Uncle.” I say as I feel myself dissolve into the air.
Characters
Queen Elizabeth: C’mon, you know the one. Whenever she takes an action there’s royal fanfare heard in the distance.
Judge Hector Gustavus, Custodian of the Cheeseburger of Immortality: Recently converted to Hinduism, stubborn, has newly discovered self-respect and self-love, and doesn’t at all respect the Queen’s authority. Extremely sassy.
Burger King: Has it your way.
Setting
Buckingham Palace basement
Time
Middle of the night
(Lightsuponanaltaruponwhichreststhemostimmaculatelyassembledcheeseburger humanitywouldevercreate. Infrontofit,GUSTAVUS,acow,standsatabookstand in a darkenedroomlitonlybycandles.)
QUEEN ELIZABETH: (Royalfanfare isheardasshestepsoutoftheshadows,amoribund expressiononherface) Gustavus! The burger, now! I’m dying! Where is… (Hervoicetrailsoffas shecatchessightofGUSTAVUS.)
(GUSTAVUSturnsaroundlazilytofixhiseyesontheQUEEN)
GUSTAVUS: (Casually) Hey Liz, how’s it going? I’ve been meaning to tell you. I don’t think we can keep this whole thing going anymore… with the Cheeseburger keeping you immortal. It’s not you, it’s me.
QUEEN ELIZABETH: Gustavus? Why do you look like a cow, that doesn’t make any sense! And what’s this nonsense about how we can’t keep this burger thing going anymore? I’ll die by midnight if I don’t get some!
GUSTAVUS: (Somehowmanagingagoodexpressionofannoyancedespitehavingthelimited expressiveabilityofacow) First off Liz, I’m not liking your tone right now. My full title is Judge Hector Gustavus, Custodian of the Sacred Cheeseburger, and you need to learn it right now, or this conversation isn’t happening. Second, you’re in no position to be pointing out what doesn’t make sense. You’re the one begging a cow to let you complete a nightly ritual in which you eat a self-replenishing Cheeseburger that bestows 24 hours of immortality upon you. I look like a cow because I am a cow, did you know that? I spent centuries shapeshifting into a human to make other people comfortable, but ever since I converted to Hinduism and discovered my self-worth, I’m done putting other people first. I’m sacred and from now on I’m treating myself as such.
(QUEENELIZABETHopenshermouthtospeakandtriestowalktowardsGUSTAVUS butquicklylosesherbreathandhastobraceherselfonanearbywallforamomentwhileshe collectsherself)
QUEEN ELIZABETH: (Shrilly) Gustavus! The Cheeseburger, give it to me, this instant! I’m dyinggg!
GUSTAVUS: (StaresattheQUEENforamoment) No. Liz, we can’t keep being friends if you won’t respect my religious beliefs. I know it must suck to be dying and all, but that doesn’t give you the right to try to pressure me into deviating from my higher purpose. The Cheeseburger was given to me to protect and for an entire century you’ve tricked me into whoring it out.
QUEEN ELIZABETH: When I’m done with you Gustavus, I’ll gift your body to the royal butcher.
(QUEENELIZABETHgathersthelastofherenergyandthrowsherselfatGUSTAVUSina lastditchattempttotiphimover.ShebouncesoffhishideintotheAltaroftheCheeseburger, knockingtherelicofAmericanperfectionoffofitsplateandontotheground.SheandGustavus freezeandlookdownattheCheeseburger.)
GUSTAVUS: (StillstaringattheCheeseburger,inaterrifiedtone) Liz… I think we’re both in huge trouble. (GUSTAVUSbacksawayfromtheCheeseburgerintowhatmustbeasteelwall. HeturnsaroundtofaceBURGERKING,whoisstaringathiminsilence,smilingasalways. Butheisn’thappy.)
BURGER KING: (GrabbingGUSTAVUSandQUEENELIZABETHbytheirrespective necks) Gustavus, you miserable cow, I thought I told you to protect the Cheeseburger, not give it away to any old hag that asks for it. It’s fine though, Gustavus. Have it your way.
(GustavusimmediatelytransformsintoaWhopper™. BURGER KING turns his attention to QUEENELIZABETH,stillsmiling,asalways.)
BURGER KING: And you, Elizabeth. I still don’t have a queen, and you’ve proven that perhaps your love of cheeseburgers rivals perhaps even my own. Join me, and you will live forever.
(BURGERKINGandQUEENELIZABETHstandatthebalconyofaredecorated BuckinghamPalace,addressingtheirsubjects,together.WheretheBritishflagonceflew,there isnowonlyagreat,big,beautifulflagbearingtheBurgerKinglogo.)
BURGER KING: (Smiling) My new subjects, I welcome you to my kingdom! My Queen and I, will together introduce you to a super-size world of frozen beef, soft drinks, and obesity! No small or medium allowed. To that end, my first decree is this: From this day onward, anything that is remotely healthy is now illegal, and anyone who is found guilty of defying my proclamation will be immediately be deep fried and consumed by his or her family! This glorious new revolution begins with us, but will soon spread across the globe!
Why must you be white and higher
And me be black and lower
Why must your daddy be richer
But mine be poorer
Salt looks like sugar
Bleach like water
Who are you to be better than me
Who are you to be smarter than me
I’m not bitter
Nor am I a hater
Why you and not me
Same skin different colors
Same bodies different blood
You have life good
While mine has to be “Hood”
Why must you be white but I be black
Where is the sense
That we all lack
Why can’t we be one
And have each other’s back
Inside my head,
I am a strong person, like a bodybuilder.
Inside my head,
I know that I am the king, sitting on a throne ruling a kingdom.
Inside my head,
I am so loud, like the classrooms in school. Inside my head,
I am whoever I wanna be, I can be president. Inside my head,
I’m looking back at my life like some sort of movie. I am happy, looking back at my life in my head. But, outside of my head,
I am sad, like a kid who dropped his ice cream on accident. Outside of my head,
I’m alone, no imagination. Outside of my head,
I have no one to talk to. Outside of my head,
I’m unhappy the way real life is. Outside of my head,
I’m a no one. Outside of my head,
There is pain, and life will always be the same.
First, don’t play that good girl act, he won’t like that. He only wants to see your dark side.
Second, when you get ready for school, throw away those elegant dresses. Put on that tight fitted, black dress, make sure those hips are hugged tight by the silk fabric. When you walk those school halls you sway those luscious hips just to get his attention. When he looks, you know you got him hooked. He walks to you and compliments you. Says you are beautiful, but he’s looking at your body not you.
Three, your personality means nothing to him. The only skill he cares about is how good you are under the covers. He smells of dishonesty, so hold your secrets. He’s a snitch, especially to the girls. When he says they’re his friends, he means your next replacement. Be careful!
Four, he’ll feed you those lies. When the crowd at school is watching, and the cameras are always rolling he won’t show his true colors. Make sure someone is always on site to keep that perfect picture. When you duck into the staircase he’ll touch you all over, but he’ll never touch your heart. So keep it locked tight. When you’re at the house don’t argue, he got his father’s strength. When his temper starts running, that’s when his hands start swinging. Those bruises aren’t from falling, are they?
Five, keep going in with feelings you’re gonna get hurt. You have to wear your heart on your sleeve, not on your cheek, or he’ll hurt you like crazy. You keep your head high, but he needs it low. Don’t ask about a future, the boy can barely see tomorrow without saying, “I don’t know.” So keep those thoughts in your dreams.
Six, when he buys you things it doesn’t mean he loves you. When he got you that stuffed dog one Christmas, you thought that was love. Have you ever heard of bought love? Well, that’s what he’s doing to you when he buys you little things and says the classic “only for you” line. You say you don’t have anything for him. Then he winks and says, “There’s other ways you can make it up to me.” That’s not what you had in mind, but you still do it. If you say no, he gets mad, calls you ungrateful. Then his hands start swinging again, you’re all bruised up. Yet you keep saying he never did it. You’re just “clumsy.” How do you get a black eye from a pole?
Seven, cut that cute shit out! You think he wanna hear about cute dates? Do you remember last time? You asked at school to go on a lunch date. What did he say? “Why don’t we just skip to the dessert?” You’re like a fish on a hook. He has the bait he hooks you, reels you in. What does he do when he has you? Oh right, throws you in and does this shit over and over. Yet you fall every time.
Eight, no sentimental goodbyes, cause once you be all cute and flirty, then he wants to get rid of you. He’ll make excuses why he needs to rush. Keep it short and sexy. He’ll want to stay. No more I love you before you go home. You know he never means it. He gives you that kiss whenever you guys part from school, to train station, to his house. Remember what you did before you say I love you back. That’s not love if it’s only physical.
That’s it, those are all the steps. Why so sad? You’re miserable, aren’t you? You changed yourself so much. You can’t recognize yourself in the mirror. You don’t wanna lose him now or you'll be alone. But even when you’re with him you still feel alone. You say it’s not your fault. That you didn’t choose isolation, that isolation chose you. But no matter how alone, sad, or miserable you feel, “at least you got the guy.”
Black Out Poem (from Dear Martin by Nic Stone): “Love dies / some threats / inside a / marveling hell / feeling / turns around / into / triggers of haunted / expression”
BRE AUNA DIXON
Although she was broken deep down inside there was this soft spot that still cared. She was broken because she loved too much and she was blind to the fact that love, too, is sometimes broken. But she always had a question. How can we love another when we barely even love ourselves?
She was the girl who seemed unbreakable but broke, the girl that seemed so strong that crumbled, the girl who would never stop trying but finally gave up. She would put on fake smiles so everyone would think she’s okay. She would never ever tell anyone what she felt because she was scared, scared to let people in. The last person she let in tore her heart into these pieces that... that made her not even wanna be alive anymore. She would cry herself to sleep every night thinking the pain would go away but it didn’t, it never did. That just made it worse.
She would look at his pictures and just cry. Read their messages and just cry. Although he may say, “That’s the past” that past impacted her life! . Physically and mentally. But she can’t blame anyone but herself because she made the mistake of going back. She didn’t know better. All she knew was that she loved him and she didn’t wanna lose him.
She was broken because she believed. Believed that there was still some part of him that wanted her... but unfortunately, she was wrong. He didn’t want her. He wanted her body. “Pretty face nice a**” all he cared about. Ha, wow how could she be so stupid? It was just so crazy because she dreamed of becoming something with this boy. She fell too fast, crashed too hard, forgave too easily and cared too much. That’s when she realized that the hardest thing to do is watch the one you love, love someone else. HER HEART IS SHATTERED AND TEARS KEEP FLOWING. SHE HAS REGRETS, SHE HAS PAIN. But it just all won’t go away, trust is gone, his promises meant nothing for she is broken! .
Some dreams stay with you forever, drag you around and then bring you back to where you were. Because you didn’t want to lose him, you lost yourself in the process. You became a girl who kept being mistreated and you formed a habit of saying, “I’m used to it.” You became a girl who kept being unappreciated and you began to tell yourself, “It’s okay.” You became a girl who kept being undervalued and you learned how to say, “I’m fine.” You became a girl who kept being put last and you naturally reacted with “It’s whatever.” You became a girl who kept being taken for granted and you dealt with it by repeating, “Everything’s okay.” You became a girl who kept being unhappy and you regularly told people, “I’m gonna be fine.”
And if you’re reading this right now, then you need to understand that no guy is worth losing yourself for, no guy is worth suffering for at the expense of your happiness, and no guy is worth tormenting yourself over for the sake of making him happy. At this point, perhaps losing him is the only way you’d be able to get yourself back because as much as you wouldn’t want this to be true, he’s the only thing that’s in your way of finding yourself and he’s the only reason you’ve lost yourself for so long.
Screw you Dick and Jane
All the fun you had playing
Your blonde hair and blue eyes
Oh I wish you could die
Plain white dolls oh I despair
You had no business being here
Screw you Dick and Jane
For having life so easy
While as we have to fight that isn’t so easy
Your existence makes me mad
Screw you Dick and Jane
Because of you
All they see is a rejection
Of my complexion
Screw you Dick and Jane
All the fun you had playing.
You wake up and look in the mirror. You sit and think about what this day will hold. While getting ready, your boyfriend of one year texts you that he loves you and misses you. You smile at the message. He makes you feel on top of the world. You respond with all different emoji’s, thinking it expresses the love and gratification you have for him. But it means nothing to him. While walking you get these uncomfortable, noticeable stares from men of all ages. While trying to be as invisible as possible.
You ignore the ignorant and misogynistic cat calls because you presumably love your boyfriend and he “loves” you, too. Although you get reminded every day that you’re not worthy enough because all he does is stare at other girls. You can change your appearance as much you want, flaunt your assets as much as you can, but you know it’ll never be enough for him. He whispers in your ear, “I love you, Jenna,” repeatedly while you’re making “love.”
The words constantly replay in your head until you’re mesmerized and you’re blinded by those four words, “I LOVE YOU, JENNA.” You can tell it isn’t the same since you first met. You slowly change what you wear to fit his ideal perspective. You change from your baggy pants and loose buns to tight miniskirts and cropped V-necks. You start wearing makeup more often hoping he will notice the changes. You’re doing all this for him. You do your hair more often now and wear heels just like the girls he looks at do. You start changing your behavior to seemingly have more confidence, hoping he will love you more because this is all for him. But he doesn’t. He notices nothing about your appearance. You wonder what’s wrong with you because now he only calls for sex. You try to be more appealing but you can never be good enough for him to love you again.
You’re slowly losing hope until eventually he gets tired of you and tells you he is going to leave you. You start to panic and hyperventilate. You beg and plead for him to stay and say you’ll change and do what he wants. He obliges. You slowly lose yourself as you fall back into his dirty, twisted lies. You end up a booty call once more. You fuck, he leaves, he never calls, you wait again, you shut your mouth, you have no more opinions. You are not obligated to speak how you feel if you want him to stay.
He walks up to you in the hallway and says, “I think we should take some time off from each other.”
He doesn’t look you directly in the eyes.
“I can change, I promise. Tell me what I have to do.”
You hold back tears and try not to cause a scene.
He doesn’t respond and walks away from you like you’re strangers. The next time you see him he has another broad on his arm. You knew he was playing you the whole time, but you didn’t care because you were in love. Now he’s happy with the next girl and you can’t handle the pain.
You gave him your all and all he did was use you. The more you see him walking the hallways, the more you start seeing red. You realize you are no longer sad; now, you’re furious. You start doing tiny things to piss him off. You know everything that bothers him and you start adding fuel to the fire.
You start planning how you will go about pissing him off even further. But it ends up going a step too far and turns into a plan to kill him. You don’t know how but you like the idea of sweet revenge. A few days later you will regret the thought of even wanting to kill the man you loved once. You cry. But then you start remembering all the shitty things he did to you. So then you start to think, you are only left with only two options at this point: kill him or kill yourself.
You are debating whether or not to kill that son of a bitch and guess what option you chose? Sweet revenge. You choose to kill him.
First, you sneak into his house when his parents are away because you now know his parents’ schedule by heart, by the amount of times he’s let you in when they were away at work. Next you drug him by using a chloroform rag. You drag his body out and torture him for all the times he’s used you and abused you. You make him suffer and feel all the pain you endured. After torturing him by slowly ripping off his fingernails and pulling out his teeth to remove any evidence that can be traced back to who he is. You eventually kill him by stabbing him viciously to death while he’s still conscious and his eyes wide open. You pour bleach on the dead body and set it on fire to get rid of all the evidence.
You bury the ashes. This is the you that you didn’t know you could ever become.
So this is what it truly feels like to be loved, huh?
5 AM
When I woke up this morning I saw you
Your leg brushed against the crease of the back of my leg and you breathed
In my hair lightly
Lightly....
My imperfections fell right into the palm of your hands and I fell endlessly
Unapologetic like you knew I would
My face brushed against you last night and I kept it there
Foolishly…
Oh how my stomach used to feel funny when you came near
8 PM
You came back like you always do
But did you want to… I know you see me as less Can’t you see me as the best Your name is written on my chest
Invisible…
I’ll wait until you are ready to fight
11 PM
Hold my hand and slowly unfold my palm
Sometimes I press my fingernails into my hand so you can notice
The rippling
In my weightless hand I hold my feelings and put it on my sleeve
Can you feel it
Do my emotions put you at ease
Does the way my nose crunch up intrigue you
Like a cub I will wait
I’ll wait...
Racism is everywhere
It lurks everywhere
Even within causing despair
So much has been done
It can’t, it will not be undone
Where did we go wrong
It has been here for so long
Now it won’t end
But now has become our friend
I am from a faraway land called Africa. A believer of Allah.
I am as beautiful as a queen. My favorite meal is rice and beans.
What people say don’t affect me because at the end of the day I’m going to still do me.
I have a heart of gold.
Believe me or not when I say this but I have never stolen.
I enjoy singing, dancing, and performing. So when you see me on stage applaud me.
I am strong like The Rock.
I am as independent as a new born baby bird learning to fly on its own.
I am sad like a little boy who lost his puppy when I am alone.
I am as cheerful as a baby laughing at her mother in her home.
I am like a ferocious tiger when I am mad
I am sweet like cotton candy, but bitter like salt
I don’t think before I say things so forgive me when I say this.
I am like a sneaky fox when I chase my prey.
I am just like a rainbow of uniqueness.
He looked.
Heart raced.
Brain thought. She looked.
Eyes rolled.
Hips turned.
Arm reached. She walked.
Heart broke.
Tears fall.
Book opens.
Pen moves.
He sighs. He dies.
When words went unspoken and sex turned into rape
I lied awake to take back my strength
If only when I screamed and bellowed my prayers was answered
My husband of four I only wanted more
But I hated your presence as my blistered yours
Ashes to ashes dust to hell may his soul rest in a rotting shell
My beloved aching bones as tender could be treasured the moments you had with me
For a story of tribulation and total defeat
The weeping sheep cried rivers
The shiver from the mister that deceived the innocent
His faultless reign and unspeakable wit causes liquidation to a kid
Pecola be her name never go unsaid for she was the one that whimpered
In bed
Ashes to ashes dust to hell May his soul rest in a rotting shell
The Literary Magazine of New Design High School
Volume 1, Number 1. Copyright ©2019, New Design High School
350 Grand St., 4th floor, New York, NY 10002
Dr. Scott Conti, Principal