Our editors have decided to feature one of our talented poets and artists exclusively this month. Mackenzie J. is a ninth-grader here at Holicong, and we hope you enjoy this spotlight post. Like an exhibit in an art museum, it gives a broad overview of her body of work.
Ignorance
Those Little Things Left Behind
The memorabilia of a life once lived
Forgotten now, scored and scarred
An Averagely Abnormal Day
Catch glimpses of untruthful things
The shadows in the alley
Promise Me
You're here to stay
Don't let him take you away
One for Sorrow, Two for Joy
The face of a friend
And a smiling spider
Homeward Bound
Round up the bodies
Rumbling wagon down the road
Teasing, Laughter, and a Sense of Unease
The setting sun that graces red faces
And the monster cloaked in blindfold and smile
The Absentee God
Fearful of the world she raised
Now hidden from the mistakes she's made
Empty Pages
Old and slashed by fragmented glass
Like the tracks left in the lost nightmare field
For Your Own Good
He'll always insist
So twist your grimace into a grin
Memory Lane
For a faceless friend
For a recollection curdled sweet
The Fear Effect
The sweeping plague of paranoia
Oh, the things it makes us do
Bloody Steeples
Gifted help you never wanted
While your shadow cries against stained glass windows
Ignorance Aflame
Like scorched paper in a lit hearth
"You'll never miss it", the monster promises
Small-Town Politics
A wordless stare
A last hope snatched
You Don't Exist
Just a wraith of what you used to be
Even if you can't recall
The Lion's Head Door Knockers
Silent sentinels of once-quiet library
Split by shouting of once-close friends
The Presence of Loneliness
A bleak repetition of mornings past
Amidst contemptuous ghosts and guardian shadows
Curiosity Killed the Cat
Stuck in a cycle, tricked by lies
Trace the footsteps you forgot you left
Wishing on Grounded Stars
Cast yourself before ever-watchful eyes
Search for that monster, your brother's epitaph
A Step in the Wrong Direction
To grasp the hand of that silk-woven man
They never did see how you tried to tear free
When Push Comes to Shove
Run away runaway, shadow touched child
"Don't trust him", it whispered, so why wouldn't you
listen?
"Ignorance is bliss, after all."
The
Ashes of a Burning Heart
How does it feel, my dear
To lose the best thing that ever
happened to you?
To have that spark in your chest
go out
Like the mirror's cracking glass
To have what once shone
Go dark and dull
Lost where it can’t be saved
Yes, your mind still thinks
But does your heart still beat?
Or have you left it in the ashes
Where his fire once roared?
Oh, Dear Lover of Crows
I have heard people whisper
That if the crows love you
They will always lead you home
So every time I saw one
Perched outside my door
Sleek and black and ever watchful
With those far too intelligent eyes
I would leave a piece of bread
In the hopes they would love me
Enough to guide me back
No matter how far I wandered
But I do not know yet
If they love me enough to bring me
home
For I have not yet left
And maybe never will
An Old Story
Someone always has to leave first
This is a very old story
I loved you
There is no other
And you left
Version of this tale
The ending will be the same as the
beginning:
Soft
And sad
And blurry around the edges
