Hale_Storm18

Status:
Joined: December 25, 2011
Last Seen: 2 years
user id: 255407
Gender: F

Quotes by Hale_Storm18



 
 

We have been lost to each other for so long. My name means nothing to you. My memory is dust.

This is not your fault, or mine. The chain connecting mother to daughter was broken and the word passed to the keeping of men, who had no way of knowing. That is why I became a footnote, my story a brief detour between the well-known history of my father, Jacob, and the celebrated chronicle of Joseph, my brother. On those rare occasions when I was remembered, it was as a victim. Near the beginning of your holy book, there is a passage that seems to say I was r
áped and continues with the bloody tale of how my honor was avenged.

It's a wonder that any mother ever called a daughter Dinah again. But some did. Maybe you guessed that there was more to me than the voiceless cipher in the text. Maybe you heard it in the music of my name: the first vowel high and clear, as when a mother calls to her child at dusk; the second sound soft, for whispering secrets on pillows.

Dee-nah.





there is a man i know, seventeen years, he never spoke. guessed he had nothing to say; he opened his mouth on judgement day.














 


oh lord, oh lord, what have i done? i've fallen in love with a man on the run. oh lord, oh lord, i'm begging you please. don't take that sinner from me.

















 











I want to fly. my eyes are like a little bird's, a bit afraid. my eyes are like a little bird's, a bit ashamed. i'm flying so far away, soon we'll play another game.









 



      But, as for hell,
i just never did believe    

 

Amenah's format










my friend makes rings, she swirls and sings. she's a mystic in the sense that she's still mystified by things.








 



 
 

dear samson,
i put your hair
in a jar
by the old pear tree near the well.
i been thinkin'
over what i done
and i still don't think
God gave you all that strength
for you to kill
my people.
love, delilah

 
carole c. gregory
"love letter"
 


 
 

Explaining my depression to my mother: a conversation

Mom, my depression is a shape shifter. Ond day it is as small as a firefly in the palm of a bear. The next it's the bear. On those days I play dead until the bear leaves me alone.

I call the bad days "the dark days". Mom says, "Try lighting candles". When I see a candle I see the flesh of a church, the flicker of a flame, the sparks of a memory younger than noon, I am standing beside her open casket. It is the moment I learn every person I ever come to know will someday die.

Besides, mom, I'm not afraid of the dark. Perhaps that's part of the problem.

Mom says, "I thought the problem was that you can't get out of bed." I can't. Anxiety holds me a hostage inside of my house, inside of my head.

Mom says, "Where did anxiety come from?" Anxiety is the cousin from out of town depression felt obligated to bring to the party. Mom, I am the party only I am a party I don't want to be at.

Mom says, "Why don't you try going to actual parties? See your friends?" Sure, I make plans. I make plans, but I don't want to go. I make plans because I should want to go, I know sometimes I would have wanted to go, it's just it's not that much fun having fun when you don't want to have fun, mom.

You see, mom, each night insomnia sweeps me up in his arms, dips me in the kitchen in the small glow of the stovelight. Insomnia has this romantic way of making the moon feel like perfect company. Mom says, "Try counting sheep" but my mind can only count reasons to stay awake so I go for walks. But my stuttering kneecaps clank like silver spoons held in strong arms with loose wrists. They ring in my ears like clumsy church bells remind me tha tI am sleepwalking on an ocean of happiness I cannot baptize myself in.

Mom says, "Happy is a decision". But my happiness is as hollow as a pin pricked egg. My happy is a high fever that will break.

Mom says I am so good at making something out of nothing and then flat out asks me if I am afraid of dying.

No! I am afraid of living!

Mom, I am lonely! I think I learned how, when dad left, how to turn the angry into lonely, the lonely into busy. So when I tell you I've been super busy lately I mean I've been falling asleep watching SportsCenter on the couch to avoid going confronting the empty side of my bed but my depression always drags my back to my bed until my bones are the forgotten fossils of a skeleton sunken city, my mouth a boneyard of teeth broken from biting down on themselves, the hollow auditorium of my chest swoons with echoes of a heartbeat. But I am a careless tourist here. I will never truely know everwhere I have been.

Mom still doesn't understand.

Mom, can't you see? That neither can I.

Sabrina Benaim

 


 
 

Here in America and every single state they have a set of standards for every subject, a collection of lessons that the teacher's required to teach by the end of the term. But the greatest lessons you will ever teach us will not come from your syllabus. The greatest lesssons you will ever teach us you will not even remember.

You never told us what we weren't allowed to say. We just learned how to hold our tongues.

Now somewhere in America there is a child holding a copy of Catcher in the Rye and there is a child holding a gun. But only one of these things have been banned by their state government and, it's not the one that can rip through flesh, it's the one that says "F You" on more pages than one.

Because we must control what people say. how they think. And if they want to become the overseer of their own selves then we'll show them a real one.

And somewhere in America there is a child sitting at his mother's computer reding the home page of the KKK's website and that's open to the public. But that child will never read To Kill a Mockingbird because his school has banned it for it's use of the n-word.

Maya Angelou is prohibited because we're not allowed to talk about r
ápe in school. We are taught that just because something happens doesn't mean we are to talk about it.

They build us brand new shopping malls so we'll forget where we're really standing -- on the bones of the Hispanics, on the bones of the slaves, on the bones of the Native Americans, on the bones of those who fought just to speak.

Transcontinental railroads to Japanese internment camps. There are things missing from our history books. But we were taught that it is better to be silent than to make them uncomfortable.

Somewhere in America private school girls search for hours through boutiques trying to find the prom dress of their dreams while kids on the south side spend hours searching through the lost and found 'cause winter's coming soon and that's the only jacket they have.

Kids are late to class for working the midnight shift. They give awards for best attendance but not for keeping your family off the streets.

These kids will call your music ghetto. They will tell you you don't talk right. Then they'll get in the backseat of a car with all their friends singing how they're "'bout that life" and "we can't stop".

Somewhere in America schools are promoting self confidence while they whip out their scales and shout out your body fat percentage in class. Where the heftier girls are hiding away and the slim fit beauties can't help but giggle with pride.

The preppy kids go thrift shopping beause they think it sounds fun. But we go 'cause that's all we've got money for 'cause mama works for the city; mama only gets paid once a month.

Somewhere in America a girl is getting felt up by a grown man on a subway. She's still in ther school uniform and that's part of the appeal. It's hard to run in knee socks and Mary Janes and all her male teachers know it, too.

Coaches cover up star players r
áping freshmen after the dance. Women are killed for rejecting a date but God forbid I bring my girlfriend to prom.

A girl is blackout drunk at the after party. Take a picture before her wounds waker her. How many pixels is your sanity worth?

What's a 4.0 to a cold jury?

What'd you learn in class today? Don't talk loud, don't speak loud, keep your hands to yourself, keep your head down. Keep your eyes on your own paper. If you don't know the answer fill in C.

Always wear earbuds when you ride the bus alone. If you think that someone's following you pretend you're on the phone.

A teacher never fails. Only you do.

Every state in America.

The greatest lessons are the ones you don't remember learning.

 
Belissa Escobedo
Rhiannon McGavin
Zariya Allen

 
 

Anyou know,
you know, you know it's 'cause you're beautiful.  YOU SAY YOU'RE NUMB INSIDE
but i can't agree. sthworld's unfair. keep it locked out there.
 

< 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 Next >