Her Oncoming Storm

Her laughter echoed off the cliffs,
Carried by the winds
Announcing the coming of a storm.
A handful of petals
Swirled in the breeze,
Thrown by her little sister
Who wished she had seen
The signs warning her
Of the oncoming storm
Before it was too late.
This one was much
Like the one she had
Inside.
Little warning before
The rain began,
Then came the thunder, like
Angels, chanting her fate.
The scariest of all,
Lightning,
Was to help her find her way.
She had been a hurricane,
A beautiful and perfect storm,
Towards the end she was
A boat, lost at sea.
Once in the Eye of the storm,
She felt the sun on her skin,
The beautiful warmth,
The peace,
And followed the Eye
Into uncharted territories.

Some People Are Black Holes

She was as big as the universe,
Enough love for everyone
Who needed some of her strength.
You could see suns in her eyes,
Hear worlds unknown
In her laugh,
Imagine a whole universe
Pulsing to her heartbeat.
She was told she was too
Proud, too big,
Too loving
To fit in this world.
They tried and tried again
To bring her down to their size,
Until finally
A black hole appeared in her galaxies
Taking everything with it, leaving
Nothing but a porcelain doll,
Fragile and delicate.
One more little push
Made her shatter.
She tried rebuilding herself,
Tried to hold
What her once strong arms
Could, but collapsed under the weight.
She worked up the courage
To ask for help, and
Received it.
She is rebuilding herself,
Piece by piece
Relighting the stars in her constellations
One by one.

In the Dark of Night

When the sun falls below the horizon,
And the stars come out,
That is when you find yourself completely alone.
It is a time for reflection on oneself,
For deep thoughts and big decisions.
The dark that scared us so much as children
Now liberates us
And allows us to be ourselves,
Even if the moon is our only witness.
Things are different at night,
The world seems peaceful,
Filled with endless possibilities
For adventure.
In the middle of the night,
When the world is sleeping,
Look up at the stars.
You realize that you are alone,
Alone with your thoughts and feeling,
With your inner demons.
In the dark of night
Many people find themselves,
For only when you are truly alone
Can you hear your heartbeat,
And finally understand
What it is trying to tell you.

Leaders of Tomorrow

My generation has a right to be angry,
Angry at the dying world
We are inheriting from our parents.
Angry, at the senseless acts of discrimination
That are considered the norm
To the eyes of most.
We are the leaders of tomorrow,
Yet we are called lazy,
Technology-addicted,
And good for nothing.
Have you ever stopped to think
That the rising levels of anxiety
And depression
In teenagers today
Are linked to this problem?
By the judgment alone
Of the media,
And of the impossible beauty standards
We have to comply to.
By the perfect grades we must get,
And the enormous tuition
We must work two jobs,
And 50 hours a week
To pay off.
This was not our doing,
For we were but infants
When the previous generations
Decided our fate.
They decided that this would be
Our problem,
Think about it for a moment,
We must save the planet,
It's animals and it's plants,
But not start any wars,
Or offend anyone.
We must be the saviors of humanity,
The light in the dark.
We have been given
An impossible task
By the leaders of yesterday.
All that we are asking
Is that history
Not judge us too harshly,
For the people and the leaders we will need to become,
In order to survive.

Empires

Enough.
It is time for a change.
We will no longer stand by,
We will not let you hand us
A broken world.
We have had enough,
Enough of this game of power.
Our sisters dismissed,
For no other reason than their gender.
Our forests and wildlife,
Sacrificed to Greed.
Our youth, unable to find work,
And burdened with enormous debt
From an education they were told they needed.
History says that Empires
Collapse from within.
Well hold tight my darling,
For here it comes.
The tidal wave, the earth-shaking
Last drop that sends us all over
Into darkness, while the ones in power
Struggle to stay on top.
Things must change,
People must be taught once more
How to care for others,
That we cannot eat our money,
Nor can it buy us a better world.
Our blindness to what truly matters
Demonstrates our ignorance of our race,
For how can we help others,
When we cannot help ourselves.
In a world where promoting equality
Is considered a threat,
Where the color of your skin
Determines your worth.
Humanity is not cattle,
We are not simple machines
That exist only for revenue,
And easily replaced once broken.
This is how the world works now,
And this must change,
For an Empire that ignores its people
Is an Empire destined to fall.

The World We Find In Books

Once a reader always a reader, they
Would tell me, as I opened a new book,
And discovered a new world. I made new
Friends, and for a moment, they were real.

When I was told reading was nerdy, and
Deeply frowned upon, I was confused. My
Young mind could not understand why people
Despised these innocent words on a page.

Many years, and many books later, I
Have come to the conclusion that people
Are scared of books, of the worlds, of the themes,
The ideas that are held within them.

They don't want us asking questions, so that
We may believe everything they say, that
This is where we belong, and we should not
Aspire to anything greater. They are

Greedy, feeding the uneducated,
The close-minded, and the extremists. Books
Free the reader of reality, make
Them understand that there is hope for a

Better world. One where people are free to
Chose their own path, make their own lives, away
From religious or patriarchal ways,
Freeing the oppressed, giving them a voice.

The Music of the Storm

You looked up at the clouds
And saw the darkness coming.
You braced yourself for a violent storm,
For thunder, lightning
And never-ending rain.
You stocked up on provisions,
On blankets and books,
So as to pass the time,
And not have to go out
While the storm ran its course.
The rain started it off,
With its soothing rhythm
Varying in tempo and in strength.
Then came the thunder,
As loud as angel's drums,
Shaking the house and scaring the dog.
It added substance to the music,
The deep bass, the heartbeat
To accompany the main melody.
Finally came the lightning,
For what is music without a good show.
It lit up the sky, one second at a time,
Adding magic to the whole affair.
You put down your book to watch the show,
Knowing that nothing created by humans
Would ever equal Nature's beauty.
Slowly, the lightning became less frequent,
Then took its final bow.
Thunder quickly followed,
But refused to slowly fade.
Instead, went out in style,
Shaking the earth one last time.
Soon you were only left with the rain,
The soothing, calming melody,
That filled the background as you continued to read.
Slowly, carefully,
So as to fulfill its promise to the audience,
The rain began to fade.
A hundred pages later, you look up from your book.
Only to look out the window,
And find the show has ended.
The dark clouds are gone, the sun is shining bright,
And you can't help but to smile
At the rainbow in your sight.

An Ode To The Night Circus

I opened its pages and began a new life,
The feel of the book on my lap,
The paper, thick between my fingers,
The inked words dancing on the page.
The image of it formed in my mind;
The black and white circus,
The tents, the grass, the iron gates
The sign that greeted eager patrons.
With them I entered a world
Unlike any other I had previously visited.
When I closed the book,
The smell of apple cider
And caramel apples
Hung in the air.
I could see the reflection of its tents
In the wind.
I longed for the moment
I could open its pages once more
And rejoin the circus again.
For days, I ran away with the circus.
When I finished it,
I felt empty.
The world within these pages holds
A life of its own, a dear friend
I wanted to visit again and again.
To see its endless tents, the brazier burning
At the center of it all.
The tick of the clock
That stood at its gates.
I fell in love with the idea,
Became a rêveur, desperate for one more night
Within its gates.
The mere sight of the book
Made me smile, thinking of the secrets
It hid deep inside.
I still dream about it,
Looming in the distance,
Its paths, characters and gates open to me,
Should I want to come visit again.

On the Curb

As I look at the cars driving by,
The shops and the people passing me,
I wonder what they might be thinking.
Of my suitcase packed tight,
Of my purse, filled as much as possible.
I stop walking, and take a minute to myself.
I think of the previous years,
Of the bullying, the abuse, the humiliation
I'd been forced to endure.
Today is my eighteenth,
Today I packed up everything
And left home.
I look at the world carrying on,
Passing me by without a thought.
I catch a glimpse of my reflection
In a passing car, fleeting.
I see a face with eyes
Filled with hope for the first time in years.
No one knows what happened to me,
And they are very content to imagine
I have a good life.
I do now. I am free,
I think as I step off the curb, and into the street.
Smiling at the people,
Loving the feeling of just melting away
Into the crowd.

A Place Where I Grew Up

When I think about my life,
I don't see people, places or games,
I see the books and characters that filled my life,
I see Harry Potter, Eragon, Percy Jackson,
Who where the first characters that I met on my journey.
After that, I met Jonas, who until recently,
I didn't know how important he had been.
I met Ruby, who taught me that people aren't all bad,
And introduced me to Sarah Dessen, who saved me many times,
Through all of the people in Colby.
My real journey began when I met Isabel,
A slave who was trying to break free of her chains.
My eyes opened when I met Melinda Sordino,
Who taught me that the truth is hidden deep inside,
But the people who care will search for it.
I then met Clary, Tris, Katniss and Thomas,
Who helped me through tough times,
Always there with words of wisdom.
I then met Elissa Wall, through Stolen Innocence,
The story of a teenage bride, and a polygamous sect,
Which drove me to hours of research,
On the subject of child brides.
Soon after, I met Erin Gruwell
Who taught me to put my thoughts
And feelings down on paper,
That they matter.
I then met Charlie, in Perks of Being a Wallflower,
However I did not fully understand until I met
Hannah Baker. Combined, they showed me that
People are terrible, but if you let them,
They can be your salvation.
By this point, I had already begun writing my novel,
And Insurgent, the story of Tris,
As well as A Song of Ice and Fire,
Opened my eyes to death of the characters,
And what it means to the author and the reader.
Death was a tool to use to move the plot forward,
Something I should not hesitate
To use.
This journey has brought me here,
To you.
To whom it may concern,
I grew up in worlds bigger than our own,
Not on street corners, or at the park,
But between the pages of a book,
Alongside friends I will have forever.