Wires

and there was his carcass.
limp.
lonely.
lifeless.
hanging in the twisted barbed wires.

sangre de cristo,
sangre de cristo.
I know what it means father,
but i'm not him.

cuts across his wrist.
forearms.
chest.
thighs.
abdomen.
back.
quadriceps.
everywhere.

his once brown hair now a shock of red.
blood was still creeping down his body towards his face.
upside down.
his eyes were open.
his shoes were on.
his clothes were torn.
his book was on the floor.
his book was in the blood.

forgive me father for I have sinned.
I have sinned and sinned and sinned.
forgive me.
don't let the devil take me.

the small triangular bristles along the wire were scarlet.
the concrete bathed in a pool of crimson.
the walls splattered with cerise.
his head a shade of carmine.

bad blood.
bad bad sinful blood.
deserved to be spilled.
he was the sin.
he took the blame.
he was the blame.
the book was a prop.
the clothes material banter.

If I pray, nothing bad can happen.
I'll be preserved.
I'll be sustained.
oh fuck just help me.

God's soldiers sent for him.
pushed him into the dragon's den.
knowing he'd be devoured.
even with the protection of His book.

so there he hung.
limp.
lonely.
lifeless.

stuck.
lost in translation.
stuck in purgatory.
or was it hell.
or was it heaven.
did it matter.
he was dead.
the blood of a christ was spilled.

I'm not ready yet.

--mark

Pressure

it will always be us and them.
they will never be accepted.
they will never be initiated.
they will never be us.

they're different.
and that can't be changed.
and I'm glad.
we don't want them.

I don't care how nice,
how decent,
how honest,
how noble these people are.

I don't like other people.
they're freaks.
imbeciles.
different.

but, because of you,
I made the exception.
and I put up with them.
not for long, mind you.

they get on my nerves.
why can't they be normal?
do they have to be so ridiculously incompetent?
we saw you first, we own you.

our cliques will stay the same.
and we will not mingle.
and you will not move.
because it is always us and them.

our lives will never change.
and we will not question.
and you will be content.
because it is always us and them.

our lies will not falter.
and we will forget their names.
and you will stay loyal.
because it is always us and them.

--mark

disapproval.

i was always afraid of disapproval. i suppose i still am, in many aspects. one of the main reasons why i have straight-A's is because i've maintained them since the third grade and i can't imagine what my parents would do if i gave them anything less. people walked all over me in elementary school because i was afraid of saying something out of line. it continued a little bit in middle school, but it happened less because by then, everyone was forging identities and reputations and individual personalities that marked a person's place among the students, and i was finding mine too, asserting myself.

one might argue that all my efforts to create a new identity born from tat timid wallflower were driven by my pathetically overpowering need to be accepted. i learned, as all young people do. i learned how to sing and play the violin. i learned what i needed to know on the tests. i learned who the cool kids were, the ones worth my respect and time. i learned how to use empty flattery and how to make small talk. i learned how to use sarcasm. i learned how to act immature. i learned hypocrisy.

after three years of learning, i was the person you met at the beginning of the 2009-2010 school year. i suppose i've changed even more since then, but the point is not how much i've changed; it's how i've changed. recently, i had a conversation with someone who was talking about how a person is shaped by one's experiences and the people surrounding one's life. this kid said that most individuals don't fully realize the impact they can have on a person. of course, it made me think about what i've done this year and how i've impacted the people around me. i've done some things i never realized i was capable of, both good and bad. who could have guessed i'd be rolling around the forum room stage in an intense mock fight with danaya in the name of one-acts? or that i'd be the one making MLIA-worthy lady gaga jokes during advisory? or that i'd be writing these rants on a semi-regular basis? or that i'd find it im myself to deliberately hurt someone?

i wish i hadn't done the last one, but at the time, i couldn't see any other way to proceed. as much as i'm human and the many things i have a capacity for includes doing wrong, is this how it was supposed to go? was my desire to belong ultimately meant to turn me into the kind of person who did things knowing those actions would hurt others? you'd think i'd apologize, but i haven't yet figured out how to do that. i will never be able to make full amends--one cannot undo the experiences one has created in another's life. and i guess the way my conscience won't abide with that is the worst kind of disapproval in the end.

i'm still a selfish teenager.
i may be short, but as a person, i'm still growing, still learning.
one day, i hope to be good again.
one day, i hope i shall learn to be better than the person i've learned to be.


--christie

Apples to Apples

She stood up nervously, aware of this cult's fake, glossy exterior.

A hundred eyes staring, staring.

A hundred twinkling, supposedly supportive, supposedly happy, supposedly Christian eyes.

I wish I knew what they were thinking. Probably closer to hell than heaven.

The question was simple.

Every member of the congregation was suppose to answer honestly.

Why are you a Christian?

So maybe it wasn't so simple.

At least, not if everyone was to answer honestly.

Deep breath, clenched fists and eyes cast downward she took a stab at the answer.

"I'm not a Christian," 

A hundred happy little masks fell off, the staring became glaring.

She looked up, quickly glancing at everyone's real faces.

"God's gonna set you uh'fire, youngin'" Screeched a particularly soulful old woman.

God, I hate the south.

 "He's not gonna set me afire, Ms. Chokeberry." Polite enough.

"Do you doubt the power of God?"

"Let the child speak, ma'am. I want to hear this." The preacher interrupted firmly, gently giving her the  verbal nudge to carry on.

"I'm not a Christian. Because there's just one aspect of the Bible I cannot even begin to comprehend, much less believe."

"Blasphemy." Ms.Chokeberry breathed.

She shrugged it off, agitated and inspired.

"And, well, frankly, it's not the miracles or the unconditional love; the omnipresence or the abundance of power..."

Her shoulders released all tension as her mind released all filters.

"I mean, I don't really care if God can create a stone heavy enough that he couldn't even lift it. Or how He himself was created..."

Filters were alerted by the next absurdity she was about to vocalize.

"What really bothers me,"

Sweat triggered.

"W-w-what...really...bothers me"

Glaring eyes were becoming impatient.

"What really bothers me is Genesis....The beginning....the genesis of sin."

Moments of silence.

"What bothers you about it?"

She was hoping that question wouldn't come up.

"Uhm...well...you see"

Complete honesty.

"I just...could never wrap my mind around the fact that God didn't want Eve to eat an apple. Out of all things- an apple to represent sin?"

The awkward silence of whether to voice laughter or disbelief.

She continued, "What kind of parent wouldn't be happy, proud to have their kids eat fruit? Especially one that made them smarter, more aware, more mature! It just...it just never made sense. It should have been a Twinkie tree or something. something sweet and fattening and wrong. Not....not an apple!"

No one said a thing.

"Well, child," the old woman broke the silence with her sharp voice, "Twinkie's simply do not grow on trees."

"God could've done it."

"Oh please!"

She smirked right along with her.

"Well, ma'am. Who's doubting the power of God now?"

--Julie