Found
Brianna Lapaglia: Found
She watched the sun setting on the dirty waters of such a beautiful city. She watched every night for the past two years, rain or shine she sat on that old lifeguard post just to see the sun set. It reminded her so much of herself, so big and powerful being pulled down into the ugliness of the world. She hated the idea of routine; she believed in change, new settings, new scenery, new ideas, and new life. She found the good in everything but, more importantly, the bad in everything, letting her understand how f***ed up the world is. Her mind, her ideas, her passions so big yet kept so quiet. She was like a plug with no outlet. (Find the whole piece here.)
Celia Rosa: Clutter
Shannon Lindahl: Uncovered
You Are More: Lauren Zaremba
Listen to me low and listen to me beg sweetly: you are more than your imperfections. You are more than the mother who has raised you with an unkind hand. You are more than the immense emptiness you feel inside. You are more than your blind rage in a drunken mind. Sweetheart, know that you are not your mistakes. People have not loved you like they should have, but that does not mean you aren’t worth it or that you are hard to love. Baby, know that when there is a chill in your bones, you always have me in some way to keep you warm. When your weight is too much to handle, sit under the night sky, and please, leave the beer aside. Appreciate the stars. Just sit, with soft music, and think about how the world has somehow been sculpted into beautiful artwork. Honey, know that although that alcohol numbs your insides, it is not a crutch. Do not drown your sorrows with liquid as warm as hellfire, because you are only fueling it. Listen to me: do not forget I can hold your hand when you’re feeling down, but only you can pick yourself up.
Ashley Pezzella: Tranquility
Anonymous: Just Sleep it Off
Tired.
Physically, mentally, emotionally.
Tired.
Of caring, believing, trying.
Tired.
Of faking, lying, hiding.
Tired.
Of failing, breaking, falling.
Tired.
Of crying, hyperventilating, sobbing.
Tired.
Of hoping, dreaming, reaching.
Tired.
Of being cold, sad, blue.
Tired.
Of the fight, the battle, the war.
Tired.
Of letting go, moving on, forgetting.
Tired of being tired.
Rebeca Portela: Fall
Neverland: Shandi Austin
Before I left, I thanked J.M.Barrie twice over
For giving me an escape, just a light year and a day away.
Faeries whisper little Hallelujahs on the cool air
You can just hear Tinkerbell’s echo
And the lost boys laughing just ahead.
Neons paint the skies, specked with pixie dust and bursts of stars;
Peter tells me to keep running, or else I’ll lose the game.
Not even the smell of pine can mask the energy of magic.
The whole world is moving, when at home, time is at a standstill.
Even when eternal youth is real
You can get high on adrenaline.
That’s his island, where pain isn’t real
But only a concept for storybooks of home.
Even with Hook and the Croc lurking,
Adventure is still accessible at your fingertips.
The lost boys, with their antics and fun
Make me feel safer than home ever has.
So you cross your heart and hope to fly
And faith truly gives you wings.
Follow the golden arrows up above in the pacific coasts of the sky.
Remember sadness? Of course you don’t.
If I have nothing else,
Let the island of youth by my lifeline.
I let myself believe, and with some faith,
Bonds of trust, and sprinkles of pixie dust,
I found the second star to the right and went straight on till morning.