Depression Poem by D.M.

All my thoughts got jumbled in my head, when I found out my dad was dead.

I sat in my room for hours and just cried, I couldn’t fight it no matter how hard I tried.

The worst part was the memories, every time I thought of him it would emphasize my miseries.

It creeps up on me when I least expect it, there’s nothing I can do but try and reject it.

That’s how I got to thinking that life is fucked up, even if you’re good, your life gets screwed up.

Im jumping over imaginary hurdles, no matter how fast I go I feel like I’m going slower than a turtle.

I know things will get better although I’d wish he’d come back, but he’s gone for good and he left my heart black.

My sky will be blue again I have hope, for now just get through it and try to cope.

I love him and I always will, and I know the solution isn’t in this pill.


Sports Bra and Yoga Pants by E.L.


She stands in line at the grocery store, in a sports bra and yoga pants. She had just been at the gym, and only stopped by to grab milk for her mother. She can feel each whisper float to her, sticking to the exposed skin that she wishes she could cover. A group of boys, no older than fifteen, let their gaze crawl hungrily up her body, but never look her in the eyes. She folds her body into her hands as a mother tells her staring children that she would “get what’s coming towards her.” She bites her lips and lets an apology slip from between them as a woman with a purple pixie cut tells her that she’s giving the wrong impression, and needs to protect herself from assault.

But she wasn’t wearing a sports bra and yoga pants when she was raped.

She can hardly stand the scratch of denim against her skin because of the night her favorite jeans were torn from her body, and she can’t really listen to her once-favorite artist because all she remembers is the sterile evidence bag that her concert tee was placed in, and every night the words of her best friend echo in her ears – “really? Just a t-shirt and jeans?”- because she was always taught to ask what the victim was wearing, even though as it turns out, it doesn’t really matter.

So her heart breaks, a little bit, for the girl who is being taught that her clothes define how she is treated by the world.

Her heart breaks, a little bit, for the woman with fantastic hair who believes that although she is entitled to self-expression, she must protect other women from expressing too much.

And her heart breaks, a little bit, for the people who are so offended by the expanse of her skin

that they console themselves by predicting her next rape.

Please. Care. By R.G

Please, Care


You say that you don’t care what others think? Let’s think about this.

You, who shouts at people to avert their eyes whenever they happen to look upon you.

You, who wears short shorts and skirts for yourself and no one else.

Please, accept the fact that you do care what others think,

That you do dress for others, and that is okay.

People say they want respect, that they want to be valued as an individual, yet they make no effort to try and make you respect them.

You want a job working for a high profile company when you spent hours of your life letting someone draw on your body.

You express your individualism at the sacrifice of your future life.

Kids nowadays, there is an award at every step of life.

There’s no motivation to value what others think of you, only what you think of yourself.

Darwinian selection, it disagrees.

So please, care.




Wander by B.G.


I journey to the woods

Near the stroke of midnight

As I walk through darkness

I notice the lack of moonlight

The looming fear of the unknown reaches for my heart

Taunts and dances around my mind like a young child at play

My gut seems to climb faster than any mountain man ever has

The echoing sound of crunching gravel clouds my thoughts


I ask myself

Why do i fear the darkness

It’s not the darkness itself


It’s the fear of the unknown

The fear of what the shadows conceal

It’s what lies unseen

A mystery

Man’s ultimate rivel

It’s the fear of the unknown

The hinderer of humankind

It reaches out

Taps me gently

Just enough to latch on

Closing in around me

Grasping me

Freezing me in time

As I feel darkness root into me

I stop to turn back on my journey

But from inside me a faint voice strains to say

“Fear is weak”

A mere man can battle it

To combat I go

with strong heart and a steady head

I strike fear

It falls

the emotion of cowards

Lays dead in its grave




Mirror by L.M.

She takes one look in the mirror and starts to cry,


She wonders why she ate today, she was doing so well,


She hears the whispers and murmurs of people talking about her,


She looks down at the scars on her wrists, legs, and stomach,


Little does she know, that when he looks at her he sees


When he sees her scars, he feels her pain

Not ugly,


Not fat,


Not worthless,

She is his world

Not unlovable,


Spoken Word Poetry by M.R.



Who are you to me

Who are you to tell me what I can be

You have no right

To control me

Because who you are

Is nothing to me

I don’t care what you think

Or what you can do

Because I will never be afraid of anyone

Not even you

So go ahead


I will be my self

And do what I want

I will live my life

The Goddamn way I want


Preparation Time


Ten minutes out

Helmets come one

Talking stops

The silence is strong

Now it’s just me

Alone in my head

Think about my game up ahead

I rethink my moves

Over and over again

Preparing for when my moment to begin

Picturing myself out on the line

Anticipating the whistle

Ready to explode off the side

But then I snap back as

The bus rolls to a stop

Now the real game will began

And I will no doubt win