Miss Davis's Eighth Grade Yellow Group
Sleep
cold but warm
pillow cold as ice
blankets hot like the desert
quiet but loud
sometimes it’s quiet
you can hear wind blowing
through the trees
also loud like the city
that is what I call
sleep
hyper so hyper like i’m
bouncing on walls hyper
like the December break
hyper like Chicago weather
cold and snowy hot the next
hyper o so very hyper.
Miss Davis's Eighth Grade Red Group
Every space filled with silence, darkness filling the
room, lost in a labyrinth of solitude, all I hear
is silence. Am I sad, at peace, or just full of
thought? Silence whispers in my ear and I respond with
emotion and thoughts. The silence and darkness have
gotten me. Now I am one with silence and
can find myself in the darkness. All there
is to find is me in an endless void of solitude.
I hate and hate
and I do this all day
no matter where, there’s always something radiating
boiling over a big pot
my patience evaporating
The pot is empty
and so is my heart
and I can’t tell the days apart
Can we go back to the start?
No. The pot burns but doesn’t boil.
It disintegrates.
Everyday.
Like a match to a firework
I like being silent
I’m quiet because I don’t know how to interact with people.
I’m quiet because what’s going on in my head is far more
interesting than what people have to offer.
I’m somewhere else in my mind
and I feel more than content.
My mind is a script no one can read,
it’s a conversation no one can hear,
and it’s a place no one can enter.
I don’t like being social
I hate stressing about what others think
and I hate knowing words can ruin everything.
I wish the world was quiet.
Words are so unnecessary.