You took her first then
you wanted me- but I said no,
no,
no
And the of crushing weight of loneliness
I was cordially endowed

Yet I couldn’t stop laughing,
when my love slept
left,
died
Because she was gone and away
and I was still alive

But when I woke,
I watched the clock,
tick 
tock
And my skin began to crawl and cry
I began to rock

My eyes would not leave,
the moving hands sway- back
and
forth,
And my blackest veins which had slept pulsed,
and began to course

But I just couldn’t stop laughing
And my skin began to itch,
burn 
flay
And the hardwood dusty floor
looked up at me in shame

I must suffer to love and therefore
learn to love to suffer,
burn
scream
But no nightmare would ever reconcile
and morph into a dream

So while caged inside my misery,
I am glad I stand alone
detached
apart
So none else may stand under the galvanizing blast
That comes from a broken heart

But rumor has it,
She left for good, never
seen
again
But I am the only one who knows the truth,
And for our love, Yrra, this truly was the end.

A thin stream of blood ran down his chin from the corner of his mouth, trickling ever-slowly to to ground, the boy who suffered this infliction, leaning against the Wall. Yes, and to my great disbelief but also overwhelming relief, he was alive, and for the most part, unharmed. Seeing him kill the Widow was something straight out of fiction; it didn’t seem real.

If I recall correctly, the Widow had intensely slammed him against the Wall, nearly breaking their spine. But my companion, as stubborn and resistant as he is to submit, wrenched himself away with a rough tumble but then recovered to his feet. Narrowly evading each swipe and slash from the Window’s blacked and cracked, overgrown nails, a remarkably and random jagged arrowhead perchance upon his scope. And right before the Window, gnashing and straining its craned neck to bite into the boy’s throat, the speechless adolescent thrust the sharp rock up through the top of its mouth, up into its skull. And while the abomination had no eyes to show its lifelessness through, we knew it was dead- so we quickly moved on.

I’m not going to lie; when I first entered the school- I was scared. Unsure of what to do and when I figured out what, how. I came in later on in the day… about noon- that only made me feel even more out of place. I slipped in from the back of the room into the perfectly cool classroom, filled with computers and students whom were listening to the teacher. It was so odd, being in taken from my home at Muirlands and thrown into this new environment called Old Town Academy; I had just switched schools.

The first day, thankfully, had gone by quickly enough, though the social awkwardness was still there. They had all gotten to know each other since the beginning of school and now I, the ‘new kid’, had been thrown into the mix. And while making friends was of course important, I still had to worry about my grades. Sadly, everything about ‘project trees’ and points had gone right over me; this whole ordeal would definitely take some getting used to. And so, I went to dreading the next day: so it came.

Here, I knew it was time for me to start putting some effort into the work which I was slowly starting to understand. Yes, the day before had been an introductory and a tutorial but now it was time for me to play the game. So, I worked through the seemingly endless day, scarcely but thoughtfully talking to others as I went. It was somewhat easy to get to know people since it was such a small class. I learned their quickly enough and that helped me a ton when getting to know them better. So then on the third day, I had, for the most part, settled in.

Over the next several weeks, I grew completely accustomed to the outwardly complex and unorthodox style of things around the school. I became great friends with the two knuckleheads known as Charlie and Conor, enjoying every second of the day at Old Town Academy. While the first few days had caused me great unrest though, all and all, it had gone pretty smoothly. My fear was at an end; I happily worked and played at my new school as they days went by.

As I looked upon the ground,
I spotted a small mite skittering abroad. 
Running along the floor, an insect before a god.
I must teach it to die alone and in fear,
So I crush it as it nears,
And to think upon its dire grave,
Was my God now depraved?
To let a little creature die- that I had found- and killed.

Had Death come along to sweep this little speak?
As he is kind enough to reap us all,
Without a thought to trouble or pain,
To break us away from the shame.
Why thank you reaper for loving us all so kindly,
And taking us away with ignorance so blindly,
For our dark humanity will never fall,
So as-long  as Death will stop for a thing so small.

Hold fast to dreams,
For when dreams end,
Life is an empty void
That you cannot mend.

Hold fast to dreams,
For if dreams cry,
Life is vain like a solemn death,
And a shallow rain will fill the sky.

Hold fast to dreams,
For if dreams do die,
Life would stand still,
Frost bitten and held in ice.

Hold fast to dreams,
For when dreams fade,
Life becomes like a meaningless journey,
And our individuality turns into a masquerade.

Hold fast to dreams,
Dreams will drift,
Life will shatter like glass breaks,
An endless rift,
Where none will live and all will die.

Inspired by Piet Mondrian and the piece Broadway Boogie Woogie. Broadway Boogie is an contemporary piece of abstract art. This artist was known for drawing very basic pieces of art with only primary colors and lines and angles. For this project we used only strips of construction paper on a blank sheet of paper and markers for the color spots. Here is ‘Angles’.