Everyone says it gets better after middle school but
High school isn’t much better
In that stage of their lives
Everyone cares way too much about other people
What they’re wearing
What really happened on that school trip
Where she’s sitting at prom
Why they haven’t broken up yet

And college isn’t really better it’s different
We’re less concentrated
Physically and mentally
We’re filled on the inside so there’s no room
For other people’s lives
The difference in college is that we care less
And more
About different things

I don’t know if that makes us better or worse.

Slap
                         Burn
                                                  Sting.
   ­                                              Leave
                          Me
Weak.
Just
                   ­      High
                                                 Five.
                                                      In
                        Low
Tide.
                   Leaving me.
                  Feeling weak.
                          ON
                         THE
                    GROUND.

In this life ive seen people laugh, cry and get high
Only influence standing between the right and left side
Ive felt courage die
And made love lost
Turned such chaos into neccessities
When life isnt suppose to be about material things
Not doe, not hoes, win at all cost, or by any means
Because in time those ingredients bleed
And bore wounds deep
Six feet
Ive seen six eyed monsters creep into hearts still breathing
And transplant its last beats
And beats and beats
Until beats turn into stringed melody
Strangled cries of insanity
Breathing life of normality
Of sorrow bought on black markets
Of dreams tranished
It is love life has yet to witness
Life is a tragedy
Feeling the glass is half empty
We take hits harder than dome would deem pleasurable
When we are living a fable
We run dead end to locked walls holding back dreams
Somewhere we all bare witness to unbearable things
When life is a blessing turned more of a curse
We wonder if we should laugh, cry, or get high first

no longer in the safety of these decorated walls
say goodbye to friendly faces in these crowded high school halls

these people were like family for four metamorphic years
the guidance of the teachers subsided tides of crystal tears

hidden in the chrysalis of the freedom of young age
do not forget this chapter as you turn to the next page

the transformation is complete
the chrysalis bursts
we have now been banished to the real world

They say the silence is awkward
when it consumes an entire room.
But the thoughts are almost palpable.
I'm surprised no one has noticed sooner.
Thoughts of inequity.
Fear of rejection.
A concious sedation of self loathing and envy.
Faces running on auto pilot
in the few moments before everyone reaches for their phone
to drown out the quiet.
You can hear the girls comparing thighs
and hair
and dresses
because although we know the media is a generous artist
of flaws for the human form
we still worry that they are right about us.
Guys watching every twitch of lips
and fingertips
half of the room wants to scream
while the other half wants to run
but everyone is confused as to why.
Awkward silence is preferable, though,
to deadened conversation.
The ones where we mention the economy
or the war
or the friend that died last week
and no one knows if it was really an accidental suicide.
Where we paint a picture of bleak servitude
and lament our meager lots
So we stay quiet
except for the dinging of phones
until its time to go home
so that we can study for school
and get a degree that we think we have to have.
If only someone would question
just how much pieces of paper
dictate our lives
Money
Degrees
Concert tickets.
But no.
We all just linger
in the Awkward Silence.

Wednesday, 14th of February 2018, 7.00pm,
" breaking news, a mass-shooting happened today in Florida, American authorities are calling this the worst school shooting in U.S.A's history "
6 minutes and 20 seconds,
That's all it took,
17 confirmed dead,
15 injured,
Countless more lives ruined,
All in under 10 minutes,
No parent should ever have to hug their child,
So tight,
Just because it might be the last time they'll ever say goodbye,
No kid should ever have to be afraid of their school hallway,
Or be afraid of who's standing in the classroom doorway,
No kid should ever wonder if this day will be their last,
And no parent should ever have to bury their kid,
Six feet out of their reach,
So this is for Scott,
And for Alyssa,
For Martin,
And for Nicholas,
Not forgetting Aaron,
This goes to Chris,
And Luke,
For Cara,
And for Gina,
Joaquin and Alaina,
Meadow, Helena, and Alex,
Carmen and Peter,
You are all in our hearts,
Let's face it,
The Floridian community of Douglas,
Will never go back to " normal "
So, Washington? Trump?
Riddle us this?
When is this going to be added to your list of " proud American traditions "?
There are too many heavy hearts,
Too many dark days,
Too much chaos and confusion,
For this to be swept under the carpet again,
Just like the last time,
We aren't even a quarter of the way into 2018,
Yet there has been over 30 mass-shootings since the beginning of January,
So here's to the people who aren't accepting the truth,
Who are too " confused " to realize what's going on,
For the people who haven't woken up to the fact,
That there were unidentified bodies,
Sitting cold in that school for over 24-hours,
And do not tell me I am too young to know what I'm talking to you about,
I stand alongside Emma Gonzalez, and the hundreds of young people across the globe,
This isn't just for our lives,
This is for everyone's lives,
Since when did " don't shoot nice people " become such a controversial statement?
Since when did school safety become a debatable, two-sided matter?
So I will join my fellow marchers,
And yell loudly and unapologetically,
Until they hear our voices,
In the words of Emma Gonzalez,
Adults like it when we have strong test scores,
But not when we have strong opinions,
We are Marching For Our Lives,
And this is our legacy.