Clovina: Favorites

Oct 2013 Clovina

Nadia DeLevea

Is the world still turning?
Everything is burning.
I'm trying to fight,
To live in the light.
Now the light has gone.
As disposable as a pawn.
Because the world is burning,
I'm not sure it's even turning.
Life is hard,
I feel the shard.
It's deep in my skin,
I cannot seem to win.
My world is on fire,
It's down to the wire.
We're all rushing through,
Except a single few.
We see the beauty in the chaos.
Because we choose to find it...
Because we know it's there...

I wrote this a year ago while sitting in class.

The Light Has Gone™ By Nadia DeLevea

Oct 2013 Clovina

Eyes Wide Shut

Oct 2013 Clovina

Nadia DeLevea

Eyes Wide Shut

I take a moment,
I close my eyes.
Darkness overcomes me.
There is a slight breeze.
My hair is blowing about my face.
I hear distant wind chimes.
The chains rustle in my ear,
As the wind sways my swing side to side.
A siren is heard.
It gets louder as I listen.
But I know a chain link fence separates me from the street.
From reality.
I smell the familiar smell,
The smell just before it rains.
I smell my neighbors smoking ***.
I hear the yelling they always do.
I block it all out.
I take a breath.
I let go of the world.
A cold wet drop hits my cheek.
Another hits my hand.
I don't hardly feel them.
The gates of the clouds open wide.
My body damp,
My cloths heavy.
Thunder echoes throughout the air.
Leaves above me are whipping about.
Someone calls out my name.
They are too quiet to be close to me.
My eyes remain closed.
I do not call out back.
I'm drowning in my own tears,
Washed away by the rain overwhelming me.
I let go of the chains I've been gripping.
I fall through the air.
Mud, it's all over me.
I don't dare open my eyes.
I lay among the leaves,
Scattered in the muddy puddles.
I feel nothing.
I lay.
I listen.
I hear crunching.
Someone near me walks through the leaves.
Fingers grasp me.
They pull me to my feet.
Hands shake me.
I will not open my eyes.
Arms wrap around me.
They pick my tired body up.
My father carries me.
I know not were we go.
But I shall not open my eyes.
Not now.
Not ever...

A moment forever frozen in my memories.

Eyes Wide Shut™ By Nadia DeLevea

Oct 2013 Clovina

Toy on the Shelf

Oct 2013 Clovina

Nadia DeLevea

Toy on the Shelf

I feel like a child's favorite toy.
The one thrown against a wall pretending it can fly.
The one whose button is pushed over and over to hear it's sound,
Until it can't talk anymore, hardly able to make a sound.
The toy cuddled and smashed under their small body every night.
"Protecting" them from the monsters under the bed.
The favorite toy they hold by the arm,
They drag it behind them wearing it out until the arm may fall off.
The one that is *****, but you can tell it was loved.
The toy that sits alone on a shelf for years on end.
Who collects dust untouched because the child has grown.
The one who has no purpose but to make people smile.
The toy that is so used and abused they say it has "character".
The toy no new child wants because it to worn.
They don't want it for it can't last much longer.
It needs new batteries, and a trip through the wash.
It needs to be stitched up in more places than one.
The toy that no longer has a purpose,
But that only makes it need more love.
Someone to love itself.
But who could love something so worn and mangled.
So it sits alone on that shelf.
Collecting dust, unseen, unrecognized.
I am that toy.
The one with no purpose.
The one on the shelf.
Unseen, unrecognized, unloved.

Toy on the Shelf™ By Nadia DeLevea

Oct 2013 Clovina

Melody of My Torn Heart

Oct 2013 Clovina

Nadia DeLevea

Melody of My Torn Heart

It is dark,
I cannot see.
You've left your mark,
But it's only me.

You didn't have to knock me down.
I hadn't built myself up high.
My face is frozen in a frown,
I've fallen so low I can't even try.

You've broken me hard,
I can't hardly breath.
Now my life forever on guard,
How could you be so rude to tease?

All I want to do is cry,
The safe sound of music is all I can bear.
My life is swiftly flying by,
For my heart your evil so did tear.

Melody of My Torn Heart™ By Nadia DeLevea

Oct 2013 Clovina

Mirror

Oct 2013 Clovina

Dominique Espiritu

Mirror

A mirror is never just your reflection,
My mother once said
The mind has this devilish way of
Twisting
Things around
Making then a lot more or a lot less
That what stands before me
Suddenly
My face isn't my face anymore
Instead
I stare blankly at a blueprint
Society itself has hand-sketched
For me.
Post-it's on where things had gone wrong
Scribbles on things I needed less of
Highlighters on places I needed
Brighter brights
Thinner thins
And I just stood there
Watching
As these self-proclaimed architects
Unraveled
The plans they had for a body that wasn't theirs.
Accepting
The new rooms they had drawn next to the ones that already existed,
The ones that were always there
The ones I made a home out of,
The mole on my ear
That never seemed out of place
Until,
The impact of a critical post it told me so.
The place where my thighs met
I've always ignored,
Assuming I was normal
But the scribbles that
Begged
For less of me,
Proved otherwise.
The marks of stretched skin
I considered battle scars over a few calories at a buffet table
Nullified
By society's architects
Disapproved
As if it were up to them
Invalid
Like human came in the form of overruns
But I stare at this blueprint that suggests to change me from
Floor to floor
Head to toe
And wonder
If the one who owns the lot in which I am
Wonder
If He wanted to change me anymore than them
If He liked the original rooms
More than the ones carved to fit the trends
If He wanted me to ignore the architects
And the drafts of copies
And copies
And copies
Of different versions of me

Didn't He want me to accept the mirror for who I am?

Oct 2013 Clovina

Welcome to the end

Oct 2013 Clovina

McClain

Welcome to the end

Who decides life is not worth it?
You?
God?
When you reach this point, questioning living, breathing, you play god.
You feel your mind make,
take,
break
and create
new processes never felt before; a process of passion,
confusion, contradiction and confession.
You strive just by the thought of not surviving.
The
downfall
of a
suicidal
mind.

Painfully and buried deep down the impulses slip out.
Screams for hopes, answers, connections, positive aspirations.
Constantly wondering is this it?
Is this the end?
That your life can never peek again,
so the result of your collapse is an
eternal slumber with the devil by your side.
Whispering in your ear telling you about the ache
and sorrow your sinking heart and conscience feel.
An eternal hell. An eternal anguish, torment, suffering.
Do you stay in the hell on earth or hell in the after life?
You examine all the details
over and over
only thinking of your lonely pitiful life.
Meaningless and outrageous.
Screams moving around trying to get out but only
bouncing back inside of you to find
the little nothingness in which they are in seek of.
Literally, are taking you in and cutting you into
the smallest treads as possible over and over.
Never letting up to give the one underneath a second break.
Pounding as hard as possible.
Thudding and pulling, twisting and hurting.
Neither end nor good.
You can feel the over whelming sense of your corruption
taking you headfirst and choking your every last breath off.
Cutting it away like a river being eroded by things we cannot control.
Your life you cannot control.
People you cannot control.
You see the only outlet in your mind
but it burdens you with insanity behind it.
Taking life; your own life.
The reasons are bliss.
Sweet tender resolutions freeze
over your tempered thoughts,
fragile thoughts of a
suicidal.
Unaware of the footprint left behind.
Your stomach churns,
stirs
and confusion
sets in once again.
You feel ***** rising in your
throat about to implode
but it’s just an illusion created
in your mind;
hallucinations.
Questions are still increasing
their intensity and passion.
With every moment of aloneness and isolation,
the time ticks away from you until you feel as though
you will fly into a rage.
You take a deep breath;
intense thoughts.
Questioning right verses wrong;
life verses death;
now or never.
Take a step back
and pull the trigger;
welcome to the end.

Oct 2013 Clovina

story of my life

Oct 2013 Clovina

Amanda Starr

story of my life

Deep inside, this crazy ride
Where the trees are all withered
There ready to die
Where the ground is not strong and the air is not fresh
Where theres no point in trying, No even a breath
Where the sky is dim and the weathers a mess
Where theres no time for reason, no time for rest
The devil hides out until its time
Even if you didnt do it, you pay for the crime
You may not know where you would go
But you need to get out,
Your body runs slow
You act to the door but there's never enough space
You never move in time, its an unbeatable race
Time to give up, time to give in
You learn to let go, when your living in sin