Anonymous said: Because I never thought of that to be bullying... He was just in love. If it weren't for my cousin to look at my legs in the car, after they had been bruised for days, and notice the purple and green marks... So we had a talk with the counselor. Days later people found out. They called me names Because I told my mommy. But yet, they didn't know I hadn't spoken a word to spark the flame. And yet, I was getting called names and asked why I did that. Then she asks why I like girls. (2/2)
Anonymous said: As I wake up, the sun caresses me like a flame around wood, or how one holds a lover at night. But further into thought, I realize it is not the sun, yet it is her. It's the woman who taught me to love boys. My mother. She said if they tease you, They like you. Yet although I can't hold a conversation without being completely awkward or wanting to scream at the person in front of me, I felt the need at ten years old to keep the secret that a boy bruised me. (1/2)
Anonymous said: I'm not exactly sure how to submit but I do have a poem i would like to share ^.^ my soul is in a cage and needs to be set free where is my solution where is my key my thoughts are running wild and they need to see who I am who am I going to be my heart burns with passion and it needs to foresee what I want maybe it's just to be carefree I have found my solution and I know who I am going to be it takes much courage but first I must discover thee -C.G.C.
It’s as if someone has the the remote control to my life
As if they pressed fast-forward
One minute I was having nap time in my kindergarten class and the next I’m talking about my college plans
I remember meeting my best friend
All because I shared my royal blue crayon
Now we share advice on our futures
When picking a crayon was the hardest choice
When everyone was your friend
No betrayal, no lies
When words comforted you not hurt you
The scariest part is knowing that a day will come
A day when everyone and thing we know and love will be gone
To know that you won’t be able to hear their voices or laughter echo
Never seeing that smile that lights up a room
Growing up is inevitable
It is exciting and scary all in one
It is the unknown
What happened was the worst
What happened was normal
What happened was expected of people
What happened was common to my generation
What happened was anything but uncommon, unlikely, uncustomary, unfamiliar, unanticipated, abnormal, a new idea, a new story, front page news,
Anything but a story that gives people a good damn to give back.
And yet what happened was something that I will be judged for for the rest of my life.
What happened makes me different,
What happened makes me a bad person,
What happened makes me cast aside,
What happened makes me lie about my past,
What happened makes me a sinner and stupid even though I get grades in school that are above average,
What happened makes me look like I don’t give a damn, even though I’m already more successful than half the teenagers I come across
What happened was I made a mistake
What happened was I am a victim of bad judgement
What happened was I am human and I was attracted to the boy who made me feel pretty
What happened was I fell in love with the boy
What happened was he fell in love with me
What happened was he made me feel safe
What happened was -and hear me out- I knew he would never leave me
What happened was we felt committed
What happened was we loved each other
What happened was we put each other first
What happened was we put each other before everything before our friends before our families before ourselves before our values
What happened was we put each other before our values
The problem was we put each other before our values
What happened was suddenly alone time was a little too alone
What happened was our rooms became sanctuaries
What happened was we disregarded consequences
What happened was suddenly we were two living and breathing and thinking and moving bodies made into one
What happened was suddenly it went the other way
What happened was suddenly instead of a warm and comforting hand to hold it was a living breathing piece of me
What happened was suddenly being in love was a responsibility
What happened was desires went out the window with every stupid thought that came with love as well as my childhood ending just a little too soon
What happened was we were scared
What happened was I was scared
What happened was I was scared
What happened was I became We
What happened was I was building myself a wall
What happened was I built myself into a corner
A corner of a room that is my life
What happened was the wall I built collapsed
What happened was blood on the sheets in the middle of the night
What happened was holding each other and crying
What happened was I wouldn’t get to see my own eyes on an infant
What happened was I got to stay sixteen
What happened was God called and said ‘hey kid, I want you to be that carefree child for a little longer’
What happened was responsibility didn’t have to happen
What happened was no more feeling nauseous with new life and bloated with disappointment
Even though that disappointment became that of no longer being filled with the excitement of bearing a piece of me
What happened was we weren’t ready.
What happened was I could start over
What happened was I can start over
What’s happening is I will start over
What happened is I was let off the hook.
And nobody will have to know.
What happened was the worst. And it’s only the worst when it happens to you.
Fedzilla’s latest slam piece contemplating the future of her (hypothetical) children.
Hello! I am part of the Slam Poetry team at the University of Washington. We are trying to fundraise to get to the national competition, CUPSI. The University does not fund or support us at all. Please help us by sharing our fundraising link, listed below. The Slam team functions with a social justice lens and is a major part of helping bridge difference and bring attention to diverse voices and communities. We appreciate your support!
I will understand if, in the winter, you close up like a blossom, waiting for another season.
I will understand if, in the spring, you shelter the poison inside of you from being washed away in the gentle showers.
I will understand if, in the summer, the light and joy in you blossom only for…
I haven’t posted a personal piece in a long while because honestly I haven’t written in a long while. -Sam
Forget stardust—you are iron. Your blood is nothing but ferrous liquid. When you bleed, you reek of rust. It is iron that fills your heart and sits in your veins. And what is iron, really, unless it’s forged?
You are iron.
And you are strong.