
Coffee stained papers
Are works of art if you look
Deep inside your heart

Coffee stained papers
Are works of art if you look
Deep inside your heart
He wishes he had called her last night
He wishes he had known she’d never speak again
He wishes he could go back and save her from the end

“It’s not you it’s me”
Is written on your lips like sloppy poetry
Recited this time to unlock our love and throw away the key
My head is messy
At the thought of you with someone new
The temperature’s dropping
Your tone turns my bones to stones
I hear the quiet popping
Of tiny icles chilling my bones
I feel sadness, a sort of creeping cold
It’s coming on just like you did
Slowly
I need to run but I’m afraid of slipping
Into loneliness
The thought of you is whipping
Enticing me through the wind
Like an old friend I can no longer see
Because you said “It’s not you it’s me”

I always see little girls getting ice cream
And whenever I do, I want to scream
Because of what they order
The flavor they want creates a border
Everyday
Not just one day
But every single day
I hear vanilla people saying things to their vanilla selves
They read vanilla books from vanilla shelves
They have vanilla husbands and vanilla wives
They have vanilla kids who live vanilla lives
The vanilla kids order vanilla flavors
I see her blonde vanilla hair and feel bad for her
She doesn’t know the difference between vanilla and rocky road
She doesn’t have more than one road to travel on
She’s young, but she’s too far gone
The world is a great place to be
But all too often vanilla is all we see
The windows of our vanilla cars fog up and we go into cruise control
We lose control
The vanilla police are on parole
Getting nowhere fast
Getting nowhere at all
There’s not even a place to fall
There’s just flat
Like how we used to think the earth was
Until some not so vanilla guy told us to believe him
So like sheep we breathed in
Together like a herd
Though we’re together we’re still unheard
People always say to follow your dream
Then turn around and keep up with the Jone’s
It makes me want to scream
Pick a side please
How can you possibly be giving vanilla advice to someone who is on a rocky road
Life is a rocky road
But only of you want it to be
But what’s the point of living if it’s vanilla
If all that’s in your future is bullet points,
And vanilla movement with vanilla joints
Why not just take a bullet now?
A face with no name
Café Rendezvous

Tanning booth legs exposed in her too tight dress
Hair is tidy, she can’t be a mess
She looks down at the tiny glowing screen
The pictures pick her up with dopamine
As her eyes stay down glued to the scrolling scenes
Through the glass door she walks
She struts to a window seat for good lighting while she talks
Her mouth is shut not a word is leaking
Her fingers are the ones that do the speaking
Fake hearts on screens is what she looks for, she doesn’t know it’s not what she’s truly seeking
She was just told by the people
That the only thing worth caring about is pictures without personality
He serves her coffee with cinnamon just the way she likes it
He memorized her order since she moved here
He can’t get her face out of his mind
He thinks about her all the time
But he never gets to see her eyes
They’re always speaking to the screen
He leaves a note next to the cup
But she’s too preoccupied with her fake hearts to pick it up
He walks away and waits until tomorrow
Hoping the next day he can help her with her fake sorrows
He knows she has beauty deeper than her darkest tan
He just wants to help her take a stand
He sees the screen drowning her like quicksand
She waits for the hearts to appear
But they don’t and her hope disappears
She glances down at her note and sees a smile
Little does she know it’s been there for a while
She gazes at the counter and sees a familiar face
A face with no name
She wants to talk to him but her anxiety takes her away
The next day she walks through the glass again
This time with less authority
More sadness and looking more lonely
He brings coffee to the girl with the screen
Except this time it’s not there
The eyes have finally arrived
He can’t get over the ocean of tears he sees being held back by pride
He offers a smile
The tears come spilling out like papers trapped in a dusty file
She sees her reflection in his eyes
The answer is now clearer
She doesn’t need fake hearts
All she needs is to smile in the mirror

Why is it that you tell me to be myself?
I see it everywhere from slogans to books on shelves
I can’t help but wonder why you expect me to delve
Into the deepest part of me and be that thing
Do that thing
Find that part of me that makes life worth living
Why do you want my soul to sting?
Since time has changed
Parents friends and teachers
Tell kids to stop blending into the bleachers
All they want to do is be part of backdrop
But I can’t seem to figure out why authority won’t stop
It’s like a constant ticking clock
They say the same words over and over
They tell me I’m a four leaf clover
But all I hear are words
I see no action
All I see is myself as their distraction
It’s easy to tell others how to live life and be
Especially when you yourself are not free
You are trapped in a cage biting your hand so often
You forget how to eat and now you’re living in a coffin
Called a cubical
With a motivational quote on your desk calling you beautiful
You don’t believe it so you go home and sell it to your kids
Like a discount comic book
And they eat it up until they stop believing it too
That’s the thing about telling people to be themselves
It’s only a cup of synthetic words pouring from a thousand artificial mouths
Is it really real?
The answer is no
How can it be real when all you see is go
Go Go
People going to meetings
People rushing to stations
People living on caffeine
People running to races
They’re like prisoners crawling around trying to do everything well
But getting shackled the moment they leave the cell
These people are not living they’re creating a hell
Their cracked lips are lying as they tell me
“Always be yourself”






REDMERCEDES Reflection
For years I’ve been inspired by YouTube dancers of all walks of life. My passion for dance actually began with YouTube after I watched the movie Step Up. I would spend hours on YouTube learning how to dance to hip hop, which is why I decided to create my own YouTube dance video. I chose the song REDMERCEDES by Aminé because it has a constant tempo and it flows well with hip hop style dancing. I worked with Eric Wescott on this project because I wanted to try working with a dancer from a different background. I have learned dance on YouTube and in studio, but Eric has not been professionally taught dance. At first I thought Eric would struggle keeping up with choreography, but I found him to catch on extremely fast and he even choreographed. We chose to use the high school as our main film setting because of convenience, but it worked out well because of the effects we implemented. After my first experience with film on my last project, I found that lighting is a key element. We used both front and back lights to create shadows and show all our moves the way we wanted. Using Final Cut, we were able to create a Ken Burns effect that makes the viewer feel like part of the dance. Unlike my last project, I did not try to create a deeper meaning of life or a lesson for the viewer to take away. I simply wanted to create a cool video about something I love that wows an audience. Eric and I used outfits to our advantage and kept a theme of red, black, and white. It was perfect timing when I got a metallic gold jacket as a gift because as soon as I saw it, I knew it was meant for this video. Eric and I were filming after school and noticed an outdoor light that resembled a street light. We were able to give rural maine a different look with the night time scene, outfits, and lighting. The batting cage was my favorite place to film because of the darkness and mirror effects we captured. The crisp editing effect we added made the blackpoint darker and really put the focus on our moves. The mirror with tutting we added in the batting cage was a great way to break up the scene before switching to the final part of the dance. We ended the dance back at the gym where we began the story, which was simply two gym kids who wanted to dance. At the end we added extras in the background and only the most observant will notice Tyler Peters struggling to bench the bar. Overall I enjoyed making this project and I was so happy to finally have a YouTube video like the ones I used to learn from. This project has taught me that I should work out technical difficulties before showing my projects. The computer would not play the audio to the video which was embarrassing, but it was okay because I was able to show it on a different screen. I enjoyed dancing and filming this piece, but I must say that my favorite part was editing. I’ve expanded my knowledge of the arts with REDMERCEDES, and hope to use it to my advantage in the future.

When a lifetime is a blink how can you be content standing until your eyes dry out?
Savannha Brown
I don’t know what depression feels like
I picture it as a twisting and turning I picture it as a twisting and turning
An intermininet strife
Like a shower of bullets
Perhaps a raining parade of bad days
Or a feeling of this simply couldn’t can’t shouldn’t
Be happening to me
Why to me?
I’d rather be free
That was my first impression
Of the meaning of the word depression
The final answer to my question
What else could it mean
Other than a deep recession?
The closest distance between two people is a story
After making some friends I found a common allegory
People are sad
It might sound bad but people are just so sad
It most likely stems from something like a problem with a dad
Or a situation that was out control
Something that made them mad
Time and time again until it just turned sad
Or something like a comrade turning on them
But all these dead flowers come from the same stem
I’ve learned that these are just the roots
To the beginning of the end
The end
What a time of uncertainty
Certainly it will come but when?
When the time is right
Is the answer from some
When you lose the next fight
The end could be the outcome
But giving meaning to why we go
Has a way of working the world into ebbs and flows
A network of coincidences has crystallized
Into a spider web of truths and lies
Lies
Are all they see through the kaleidoscope of what the people feed
Their children
People wonder why they always seem to give in
And die
A toy consisting of tiny mirrors and pieces of colored paper
Is stolen from their children at a young age
Logic is an eraser
Forcing them to foster rage
A child raising a demon
Running mile after mile with this thing they have to feed
It grows larger and darker
And eventually bites the hand that feeds them
Another petal falling from the stem
Observation of body language is very helpful
The image of a person who never sleeps is typical
Messy hair don’t care right?
T-shirt slogans don’t really mean anything
But have you ever asked the girl with the t-shirt slogan how she’s doing?
You’re in class with her
She laughs everything off like she’s the happy-go-lucky poster-child
But you don’t know her soul is screaming because she feels like an exile
She is beaten everyday but all you see is a tired smile
Tired because how can she have time for sleep
When all she hears is the deafening sound of her own weeps
She’s closing her eyes in class when the teacher points to her seat
And scolds her for not paying attention
Assigning yet another detention
The distance is short but still there
You don’t know her story so you don’t care
Her petals are dying but no one is aware
I don’t know all but I know what it feels like to fall
Because heartbreak has a way of getting the best of us all
It’s called heartbreak because it feels like someone is taking out your soul
And stomping on it to later be replaced with a breath of stone cold
After the feeling of falling
We have a hard time loving again
Even when it’s our true soul mate calling
Salt rains down on us to heal the wounds of the past
But salt hurts when it falls into cuts fast
Especially when we’re the ones putting the slits there
We build walls around our soul to keep out the heartbreak
But what we forget to do is build a gate
We foster hate
Because we’re afraid that love will tear us apart
That it will be the end
Our fate
More petals dying everyday
I watch the boy in the window through a glass frame
I see blue eyes filled to the brim with pain
I want to ask him how his soul is doing but I’m too afraid
Because I know what depression looks like
His lips can’t take anymore talking
He just wants to get up and start walking
Away
But he can’t because he can’t find it inside of him to leave the glass frame
Because it’s bulletproof and he’s too afraid
That love will tear me apart
He feels like an anchor tied to the ankle of everyone who knows his story
He doesn’t want the pity or the glory
He wants to be alone to deal with it himself
Along with blue eyes I see dead petals drying on a shelf
Rejection never feels good I’ll tell you
But what feels worse is when it’s for a cause you can’t help
It feels like slipping in a glass shoe you know is going to break
Because once you take the first step in trying to help
It comes back to bite you like snake
And the poison doesn’t immediately kill you
Death comes to mind for a while and you don’t do anything
Why would you try to help yourself when you have nothing to live for
Why not drown in the poison of the world
Everyone else is fighting their own serpents
They don’t have time to save you
They have to worry about breaking their own glass shoes
Sometimes I look over my shoulder at my people
Who are running from the devil
And wonder how their souls are doing
If they’re running towards their steeples
I’m trapped in my own glass frame
But I built a gate to let out the hate
Now I ask my people to know if they’re at peace or in pain
I don’t want their petals to die on a window sill in vain
With their hearts afraid of love and there minds living enchained
I’ve started to gather a different view of what it means to be depressed
I see it more now that I know what I looks like
It can be beautiful on the outside
But once you close the distance between you and someone who’s opressed
When they tell you their story
That’s when you find out you should have been praising them all this time
With open arms and glory
I don’t know what depression feels like
But I bet it goes something like not eating for an entire weekend
Rather staying in bed for the season
Never finding the strength or having a reason
To live
Because living is hard work and people don’t have the time to lend a hand
They have their own demons knocking down their doors filling their mouths with sand
But depression must feel worse than that
It must feel like falling down floor after floor
And never really reaching anything
A bottomless pit of darkness and once in awhile
If you’re lucky you’ll meet a friendly stranger who wears a smile
But then they’ll keep walking because the kaleidoscope was taken from them as a child
The walls are built higher because people are not something to be relied on
They are all pawns on the chessboard called a universe
And it’s simply not simple
To get better sometimes we have to get worse
Simply Not Simple Reflection
I wrote “Simply Not Simple” last spring for my creative writing class, which was work-shopped by my peers and teacher, Mrs. Ellis. I wrote this poem because I love slam poetry and I wanted to write about something that I don’t have a personal experience with. I have never had depression, but at the time I wrote this poem, I was close with someone who had experienced it. I wanted to shed light on a dark part of society, as well as give a helping hand to people who are dealing with depression. I used references to children in “Simply Not Simple” because depression is often overlooked at a young age. People say things like “It’s just a phase, ” but sometimes people are struggling with deep eternal strife.
After writing this poem, I performed it at a talent show the following summer, and was astounded at the positive feedback I received. After my performance a girl approached me and said she struggled with depression. I talked to her for hours about how poetry has helped her recover. After seeing the impact my poem had on an audience, I decided to create a digital platform to expose the importance of recognizing depression. My video inspiration came from Savannah Brown, a poet who creates videos to portray her work in a powerful way. In Savannah’s poem, “The Madness of Two,” she used a projector to play clips of old horror movies while she sat in front of the screen.
I learned how to use a portable recorder when I recorded my poem, and I started by putting the audio into Audacity. I learned that Audacity can be difficult, so I switched to Final Cut, which was much more user friendly. I found tons of video clips to go along with my poem that I put together for the projector. After my video was complete with edits and transitions, I filmed it with Eric Wescott, my film assistant, in a small meeting room with a white wall perfect for this project.
I used blue lighting to set a tone for the filming room to appeal to viewers’ emotion of sadness. I sat in front of the projector with my notebook and plant. The notebook symbolized myself writing the poem and the plant was used as wabi sabi. I had tried to grow that specific type of plant for months, with no success, but finally my grandmother started a new plant for me, and it’s still alive today. The healthy plant contrasted the topic of depression, but also showed that growth is possible even after an all time low. Just like my grandmother helping me grow the plant, I want “Simply Not Simple” to help people grow away from depression. I wore a shirt that said Zara Woman on it because Zara is a trendy, fast fashion company. This “fast fashion” symbolization is represented in my poem because depression is a heavy topic to comprehend in a short video. I added credits at the end to my amazing advisers, Mrs. Ellis and Mr. Demello, for making this video possible. I learned a lot from making this first video and hope to continue improving my digital artwork.




