Creative Writing

Chocolate milk

Samantha Holds the taste Of her mom’s chocolate milk in the back of her mouth Holds her Own hand when scared Holds her Head higher than the stars Wishing to see more Than just Mars The symphony of sweet sympathy is not one she wishes to hear Rather She whispers into the mirror A human…
<a href="https://highschool.latimes.com/author/samanthaswurld/" target="_self">Samantha Nieves</a>

Samantha Nieves

September 21, 2017

Samantha

Holds the taste

Of her mom’s chocolate milk in the back of her mouth

Holds her

Own hand when scared

Holds her

Head higher than the stars

Wishing to see more

Than just Mars

The symphony of sweet sympathy is not one she wishes to hear

Rather

She whispers into the mirror

A human being

Stuck feeling

As if she

Is an alien

Not because she she’s an outcast

But because sometimes

She feels a little

Green

What an odd color

She hesitates

To dance

To talk

To be

She struggles

To understand

How anyone can accept her

Her favorite songs

Are the ones

She dedicates to herself

With the mindset of

“If you won’t, who will?”

She wakes up early every morning

However

She stays

Laid

Thinking

Of things that don’t matter

Thinking

Of whether what she eats

Is who she is

Because then

Is when she gets

The slightest of hints

Of who she is

She craves the things

She’s never tasted

She fears

The same thing every one fears

She fears

That memories will be erased

Dreams misplaced

Left without a meaning

She can’t lose more

She can’t lose more

Of her already lost head

Considerate of advice

But not one to take it

Dark thoughts

Deep thoughts

My thoughts

Are the ones who

Stop

Push

Me to go

Go to the places

My curiosity could afford

Samantha

Is only trying to impress herself

Poem: To My Target Panic

Poem: To My Target Panic

I remember the first time I met you, the first Sunday of September. Before we met, archery was predictable; my routine was reliable. The weight of my quiver, the resistance of my string, the curve of my limbs, and Sunday morning practice, it was always the same. But...