Category: 09th

I was beautiful, no one cared about my height, or how I looked liked
But by the high standards of beauty that no one can reach Except models, by those standards and my height was a laugh
I was accepted at once in my family for my sexual orientation, they didn’t think less of me
My family still thinks I’m confused my mom thinks it’s disgusting to like two genders that’s great
In my dream, I could do anything, Play the piano perfectly, sing with a great voice
But in reality I can’t do any of that
I’ d live in this world if I could
I wish I could live in my dreams
All I want are for my dreams to become…
A reality

---

Ann Richards School

9th

It started with the doubt that gnawed in my mind to the core
then the searing self loathing leaving my soul in ashes
But it was the loneliness that enabled the
shears to snip strings to shreds

It sounds like your voice
tangled in my thoughts
The shadow of your arms
wrapped around my waist
It sounds like the tug of a smirk when you whisper
into my neck and me into yours
the feel of your fingers makes shudder
a look at your lips and my heart flutters
The way we’d lean into each other

After all we never went through

---

Ann Richards

9

“It never happened”

The words are burnt onto my tongue
Its burn, a constant reminder of the truth.
An ache in your chest, a stinging in the eyes,
the flashbacks proof of fact and lies.

I hear sirens blare its sound throughout the hall,
yet I know they’re not there to save me.

The end is near, I fear, but with a final push,
I jump up, racing, the stairs growing nearer as sweat and tears blind me.

The resolution, I gather, will come as long as I don’t listen to those who yell,
“It never happened”

---

Ann Richards

9th

Tears stream down the unconscious child’s cheeks,
as her hair,
matted with dried blood,
flows gently in the harsh winter air.

Her mother’s arms,
loosely wrapped around the girl’s small frame,
are shaking with fear.

Fear,
not for the innocence bleeding in her hands,
but for herself,
and her own clear conscience.

The destination grows nearer,
as does the child’s safety.

When,
at last,
the mother walks in.

Hesitantly,
she hands the child,
her own flesh and blood,
blood that is now stained onto her hands, clothing, wall,
to a nurse.

The events that follow are vague,
as is what had occurred before.

Still, the truth is hidden in the family,
whispers and glances prove to be evidence,
and tears,
fact through the fiction.

All that is known will be revealed through time,
but, until then,
the child shall live her life without thoughts of her past.
Without the torment of not knowing the truth.

Blissfully unaware.

---

Ann Richards

9th

There must be something in the water
The water that fills the glasses of men.
Men who dismiss me because I’m not exotic.
Because you will never find my hair on somebody’s cheap wig.
Because no one goes into the doctor’s office and asks for my nose
Because there are lotions filled with bleach meant to lighten my skin
And Whiten my mind
Just like how you whiten your teeth to brighten your smile.
I’m confused
Does this mean that I need some new double Ds
And a bag full of weave to make you want me?
There must be something in this water.
This water that I’m drowning in
You’ve filled the pool over my head and I can’t swim
Meanwhile, there are foreign girls sitting by the beach getting a tan
Darkening their skin while you tell me to lighten mine
But I’m fine
The surgery will only take a little time,
and some blood to make me the girl that can
finally, feel wanted.
Finally feel like more than somebody’s second choice.
Finally feel like a girl who isn’t surprised when a boy shows interest in her.
There must be something in this water
That you force down my throat
Because now as I look in the mirror it’s harder and harder to resist
Your grip. This must be the feeling that gets people to slit their wrists.
When you’re tired of fighting and want to give in because the water tastes like poison, but promises heaven, so you just keep drinking
Until you realize that you’re not who you thought you were anymore.
Your hair has been burned and your skin is boiling.
Some days you can’t even remember your own name
It’s insane, but it’s true
You don’t know what to say and you don’t know what to do
so you just blame it on the water.

---

Liberal Arts and Science Academy

9th

He doesnt play the stage
The stage played them
Crying with the unappricated music
Making a last ditch effort to unuse it
He wants a half note, not the measure
Unplayed whole notes, death to a bar
Heart pounding, with wooden sounds About to burst into a trillion pounds
On him
Passion is the first thing he has
Nervousness is his third curse
Music second to none
Best at none
A slave to the notes
A rage to the notes condition
No one listens to a musician

---

Anderson

9

Cloud
I am a cloud
Now you probably think I’m joking
Or a kid who has dreams of flying with nothing holding me down
No
I am a cloud
But not the nice kind
I don’t float freely in the sky
I am a cloud that’s chained to the ground
No I’m not fog
Nor am I actually a cloud
Just a kid
I hold a cloud
In my band
It weighs me down
Like the challenges I face
I want to be like a cloud in the sky
Or even the fog on the ground
Only because
They are free
Free to do as they wish
My cloud it chains me to the ground
Why couldn’t it be real
And allow me to float free in the sky
I am a cloud
Not the free kind
But a cloud
Not a real one
Just a prop
Barley noticed on a field of performers
I’m a cloud
Who doesn’t float free

---

Bowie High School

9

I am like a small crack on a frozen lake,
Surrounded by other bigger and smaller.
I wonder if people can see the HIDDEN CRACKS In OUR WORLD.
I hear the whispers of the wind around me.
I see the light of childish wonder in those smaller than me.
I want to be seen for who I am
I am like a small crack on a frozen lake.

I pretend that I can handle anything that happens.
I feel the cold touch of those who have passed.
I touch the sands of time that fly by me,
Never able to fully grab them.
I worry about the past I should let go.
I cry only when I think I’m alone
I am like a small crack on a frozen lake.

I understand that I can’t be perfect.
I say we break the chains that hold us back.
I dream that I will be happy forever.
I try to keep everything together,
Even when I know I can’t.
I hope that no one notices the cracks of imperfection I hide.
I am like a small crack on a frozen lake,
Not as alone as I thought.

---

Bowie High School

9

I am like a fire
Burning bright
I illuminate wild eyes
Like an animal
Ready to strike
A glint of madness
In my flames
I am like the calm before the storm
Quite until I strike
I am the insanity of the flame
Consuming all I touch
Every thought
Every action
I am like the smoke of a fire
Dark and pungent
Killing those who stay
Slowly chocking the life away
As I burn the wood
All other thoughts leave me
All I know is fleeing my fire grasp
I am the embers of the fire
What’s leftover
I am all that’s left
After the insanity strikes
I am like the smell of a burnt out fire
The only thing that tells you
I was here
I’ve destroyed all else
I am a fire
I burn and destroy all in my path
Nothing can reach me
For none can touch me
I am eternal
eternal and alone

---

Bowie High School

9

When Plate Tectonics Move
By Rachel Paiz

When plate tectonics drift apart
They leave behind a permanent scar
They eventually form as an ocean ridge
Which can lead up to a mountain bridge
That nobody knew would ever exist

Oh when plate tectonics converge as one
An earthquake has begun
In the earth’s surface
Present and in past
Isolating and diverging
Valleys start to form at last

From the deepest ocean trenches
To the highest mountain tops
There is a rising volcano that never stops

Beneath the earth
The rocky inner layer core rises up more
Like it never did before

Boundaries transform moving side by side
Eventually connect and glide

---

David Crockett High School

9th Grade