Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

Nulle Part

the pained
gashes of holding onto
a million
ropes of a million
of a million
thrusting, rushing,
plains of
Golden land.

It’s for the land
He says

For the vigils
I say.
Their stare on me,
their stare on us, they look and glare and patently flare.
Why me?
He says

It’s me
I say.
Don’t leave me here.
These ropes are pulling on my sweltering,
awakening skin.
The blood won’t stop pouring down the lakes in
my eyes I am

j’avais voulu arriver à quelque part
Il dit

j’avais voulu arriver à nulle part
Je respond.

The knots on the ropes are

with my hands lingering
pain in my broken
how much I’d like to take them off and
make a

une violon?

He says
Yes, a violin
I say
mais tu est absurd, tu ne penses bien.

I think very well, thank you very much.
mais non.

I am not crazy.

I used to play the violin, you know.
A long time ago.

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