By Mariah Miller, Ionia High School
For this serious mental flaw.
One in four people they say.
It’s just the luck of the draw.
A simple thing they have to face during the day.
And some don’t even try.
There is no way to stop.
And all she can do is cry.
Until the blood starts to drop.
The pain goes on for years.
There is nothing but rage.
All there is are tears.
There will never be a new page.
I found out there is no way to escape.
But all I am is a small mistake.
About the Author: "Let go and let the world pass through your fingertips." Life is stressful and you can't always have your way. Mariah Miller has learned this the hard way, probably just like any other 17 year old girl that goes to high school. Dedication and passion have always been a big role in her life. She sets goals for herself that she feels she can able to achieve. Life is hard, and we should never be afraid to ask for help or give help to those who need it. Life is to short to live in the negative.
BY: Gregory Harrelson, Kingsley High School
It's sick, sitting under a sycamore,
Wondering if there'd ever be more, if you and I could ever be more,
Pushing thoughts out of you and me,
You said you'd always love me, yet you were always jaunting.
The image of you is forever haunting,
And there's no way you can keep just flaunting
Your new boy toy and his lack of feeling,
But that's the secret to dealing
With your emotions and life I guess.
You could always say I was never the best,
Leaving you wondering if I got rest or if I was gonna get a good grade on that test,
But you didn't care, and it's never been fair,
The delicate smell of your hair and the way you float through the air.
About the Author: Gregory Harrelson has been writing stories and poetry since he could basically hold a pen. Words are his life and his expression.
By Nick Brown, Ionia High School
I see her being ridiculed
for the clothes she's
I see him being ridiculed
for the people he
I see them being ridiculed
for the music that they
Yet, I don't speak
Then comes my turn.
I'm ridiculed for the
Clothes I wear, the
Way I act, the
Things that are important
To me, and
Who I love.
But I deserve it.
About the author: Nick Brown is a sophomore at Ionia High School. He is also on the MITeenWriters Staff.
By Kaylyn Brown, Monroe High School
Its been 3 years since I've felt your hug.
3 years since I've heard your voice.
3 years since I've got to see you.
3 years since I've got to see your smile or hear your laugh.
3 years of missing you.
The worst 3 years of my life.
I've been staring at your pictures trying to repress the tears building up in my eyes.
I've been staring at your pictures wondering why you had to be taken from me.
I've been staring,
I've been staring, I have been staring at your pictures to memorize every little detail of you.
The way your eyes lit up when watching something you loved.
I remember the way you jumped from your seat when I got hurt on that soccer field.
I remember you carrying me and making me laugh through my tears.
I remember, I remember and it still hurts.
When you left you took a piece of me with you, and now I have this whole in my chest that can never be filled.
I have dreams with you in them where I get to bury myself in your grasp and don't feel this constant emptiness.
I have dreams, I have dreams, I have dreams where I get to see you one last time and I wake up in tears because you aren't here with me.
You aren't here, you aren't here, you are not here and knowing that kills me. It has been tearing me apart from the inside out and I'm not sure how much of me is going to be left.
About the author: Kaylyn is a sophomore at Monroe High School. She loves writing, and her favorite thing to write is poetry.
By Madison Grill, Portland High School
Your very words hold me up by my neck
I am your puppet I swear I do my best
I greet you with a smile a fake one nonetheless
Hello depression my best friend
About the Author: I'm Madison, a sophomore at Portland High. I'm 16 and I love to write, there's not much more to really say.
By Madison Grill, Portland High School
Behind blue eyes she hides
Fingers tracing the past scattered from left to right
she can't think
she can only feel
If you knew you wouldn't believe
But if you believe then you definitely don't know
Her heart breaking
But she'll say she is fine as if she doesn't feel completely forsaken
All she can see is the hatred
Knows nothing about what life truly is
Because she hiding
trying to save herself
Because without you she can't care for herself
When she's alone
it just gets worse
As her pain becomes evident on her arms
Leaving scars of course
but you wouldn't know
You left long ago
And though they'll say how happy she is
They have no idea how she really broke
Behind blue eyes she hides
a pain deeper than her own demise
About the Author: Madison Grill, a sophomore at Portland High School, writes poetry when she's stressed because it's one of the few ways she can display her emotions in a healthy form.
BY: Claira Humphrey, Kingsley High School
Sometimes life grabs you by the balls and you just want to lash out.
Get in fights.
And hope that one day someone will hit you hard enough that you forget the pain in your gut,
Because it's easier to spit out teeth and blood and get back up with scraped knees;
Than it is to constantly try and piece my life back together again.
Smoke and drink;
And hope that destroying my liver and lungs,
Will make the pain in my gut and the lack of breath make more sense,
Because emotions shouldn't make me feel like my insides are rotting.
Endure physical pain,
And hope others finally understand;
Because a scraped knee,
A broken bone,
Is more comprehensible than the fact that my life is shred to pieces,
So tear away my body.
Let me rot.
Leave me bloody and broken.
Because physical means makes so much more sense,
Than a heartbreak caused by nothing in particular.
It’s so much easier to ice a swollen jaw,
Than it is to mend something invisible to the eye.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Claira is a senior at Kingsley High School. She grew up in Traverse City until she was 13, when she moved to California where she lived for the next 4 ½ years. She is happy to be have moved back home in August. When Claira is not writing, she can be found at home with her family, working, or spending time with her boyfriend. She is looking forward to her future in Kingsley as well as with writing.
BY: Carson Yencar, Ionia High School
You may think that hands are useless,
That they can’t do the impossible things,
Or even the simplest tasks.
So what’s the point of having hands?
Well, I will tell you,
That hands can lead to the greatest discoveries,
Or even to the smallest successes,
Of our daily lives.
They flow across a piece of paper.
They awaken a world unknown to humankind.
They have the soul of a lover,
And a feeling of love is transported to others,
With one single touch.
So, to think hands as useless,
Is to think less of ourselves as human beings.
For our hands define who we are,
And who we are meant to be.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Carson Yenchar is a senior at Ionia High School. She loves to write, read, put on theatre productions, and hang out with her quirky friends. She wants to be a writer when she grows up, and is not very good with talking. Thank goodness writing comes in handy because without creativity and wonder, the world would be a less interesting place.
BY: Krystal Steele, Harrison Community High School
I hear many a tale,
Of it sacrificed, stripped, stolen,
And even offered up willingly,
To one who’d spend it on pleasure,
Without a second thought.
Yes, I’ve heard and dreaded,
Choices coming my way,
To keep it would be a struggle,
To lose it just too easy.
I’ve wondered if now,
Those spent, worn, used,
Feel they’d bought anything,
I speak of purity,
All in good measure.
But not exposed.
What I have seen is people,
With regret and tear filled eyes,
Telling their tale,
And how much they wished,
They’d save their body,
Their innocence, their love,
For the one they’d hold for life:
A husband or wife.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Krystal loves to write and to climb trees. She has a twin brother, and both Krystal and her brother are hoping to attend college for the a career in the medical field.
BY: Brittany Davis, Ionia High School
I am from knives, from bleach and vinegar
I am from the couch that eats you every time you take a seat
Dim, quiet never really felt like home
I am from the giant blossom tree, the wilted rose in the dirty vase
I am from the loud laughter, loud fighting, from the strangers I do not know
I am from the loud parties, and the heavy drinking
From the “I will never leave you,” and the biggest lie ever told, “I love you”
From the getting up for church every morning pretending to be someone they are not.
I am from brokenness and pain
But I am from standing tall and living through it all.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Brittany Davis is a senior at Ionia High School and an editor of MIteen Writers.