sjsprWriting

Silence came to you,

At a young age.

Amongst the pitying looks,

And the sympathetic smiles.

She took you by the arms,

And whispered:

“Do not give them reason.”

At a young age,

You learned

The worst they could say was,

“She’s just very quiet.”

You swallowed words like liquor,

Bitter enough to bring tears to your eyes,

And hell to your throat but you gagged a...

The Garden of My Thoughts

By Laura Camila Rivera

When I was fourteen

I had a lovely garden with flowers that put all others to shame

A garden that requir...

One thing that annoys me about my sister’s room

Is that everything in there is pink

I really dislike the sudden pink boom

Because once you get in, you cannot think

There are pink frames, pink lamps, and pink walls

There are pink pillows, pink blankets, and pink shawls

Can you imagine how irritating that can be

I think any guy would agree

Eugh! Now the sound of pink

Makes me want to ...

If I knew that nothing would change, I would divulge all my secrets and let everything that weighs on my conscious simply float off and disappear. Hopefully never to be heard again. Unfortunately it doesn’t work that way. Speaking what you actually felt, what you actually thought just guarantees criticism on your unfiltered thoughts, just propelling those emotions you tried to release.

At the simple sign of distress, those entrusted with your raw emotions, strike back attacking...

Ser mujer es ser todo y nada a la vez.

Es cumplir con los estigmas de la sociedad, aparentando inconsciente de ellos.

Ser mujer es cargar con el peso del mundo y fingir poderlo aguantar

mientras tiemblan tus piernas en protesta.

Ser mujer es el tambaleo entre callar y gritar.

IT IS PAST OCTOBER 31st 12 AM which means...Just hear those sleigh bells ringing, ring ting tingling too (or however that song goes). I know there’s still Thanksgiving but it’s such a Christmasy holiday (especially because of Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade)! I love watching the parade on Thanksgiving morning while baking cookies, brownies, cake, and other sweets for dinner. My favorite parts of the parade are all of the Broadway p...

I’m not a person of many words.

He’d laugh, rocking to and fro in his chair. I’d chuckle faintly, and look at the prairie in front of us. He’d always remind me that he wasn’t one to talk much as if to keep me from interrupting that wonderful silence.

We were dipped in serenity, and it would’ve been a shame to jump out of it.

The next day, it would be the same.

I’m not a person of many words.

I like to think there will  come a time when it'll be enough.

And maybe it won't come for a long time,

And that's okay because it means we still have a long way to go.

Somehow, this all comforts me.

To think that there are still moments waiting to be lived,

and feelings to be felt,

and songs to be sung,

and people to kiss and love.

I like to think that there will come a time when it'll be enough

And maybe it won't come for a long time...

I wanted you to know

that you still plague my thoughts 

when I don't notice, 

and I've let my guard down.

That the feeling of sinking

at the pit of my heart,

and the bottom of my stomach,

and the way my breath

hitches in response to that feeling,

and how I have to take

a moment to regain my composure

and each deep sigh

and each time I shut my eyes 

till I see stars

are all for you.

dedica...

She clutched onto her sister's hand, her hand, tighter. 

This was it. This was going to happen. 

In the end, she supposes she shouldn't be surprised: she and her sister did everything together. They ate together, played together, took baths with each other, never went to a different place without the other by their side. They were so enwrapped in each other that their mother often forgot who was who, which twin was which. This b...