Am I really giving up?

Take the pieces of my puzzle,

Throw them in the air,

But hold on

To what's still there.

I want to create.

I want to inspire,

To make someone's eyes

Rise a little higher.

I want to be me

And help you to be you.

I want to be free

And free others, too.

It's not about likes,

I just want to fly.

Hold onto that dream

And I'll be just fine.

New failure

What we want to change

Always makes a point to stay

What we need to stay

Is bound someday to change

Time flows too fast

They'll fall away

They'll never last

Moving on without us

No one left to trust

When we're stuck here

Trapped by our fear

Running in circles alone

Trapped in this box we call home

Surrounded by the rolling racing tide

But we can't enjoy the ride

Right here we stay stuck

The kids who never grew up

They say we'll learn and grow 

How do they know

They mock all of the adults

Who act like kids

Who won't give their all

Don't know how to exist

How long before that's you or me

Just when will we be

The kids who never grew up

Still we keep going

In the box, our own current flowing

The perfect future

We haven't found

Dusty wings brush the ground

Pulling, hoping, running, falling

Rushing, rising, living, flying

Maybe we didn't grow up 

Maybe we're still stuck

In our quirky reality

But we can still be

The kids who rose above

The kids who never gave up

Full of bittersweet memory.

When I found the melody of our summer

Amid cold and frigid winter.

A new dream unlocked inside of me,

An anticipation,

The culmination of

Everything I love,

A wonder for life.

I was ready to learn to fly

The day my wings began to grow,

Unfolding under winter snow,

Verses floating in my mind,

Magic I could almost find.

Puzzle pieces fall together

In this preview for warmer weather.

Life is not just memory,

But present joy,

The joy to breathe,

Every moment getting higher.

Passion burns in me like fire.

I still remember broken nights,

But on and on and on I’ll fight,

If only for the days like this,

When cold holds off,

When warm resists,

When highs and lows of adrenalin

Leave me in the place I’m in.

I don’t want to be

Crippled by a dream.

I want to be a daughter,

Making my parents proud.

I want to be a sister,

Giving my siblings smiles.

I want to be a friend,

Giggling through the night.

I want to be an encouragement,

Picking others up.

I want to be a Christian,

Living in the light.

I want to be a human,

Living vibrantly.

Creating magic

In the world around me.

I don’t want to miss a moment,

Focusing on only one thing.

I don’t want to be alone

In my world of beauty.

I want to write.

I want to draw.

I want to blog.

I want to dance.

I want to sing.

I want to have fun.

I want to smile.

I want to talk.

I want to laugh.

I want to help.

I won’t be

Crippled by a dream.

I will be a human.

I will write, draw, blog, dance, and sing.

I will have fun, smile, talk, laugh, and help.

I will live vibrantly.

      In God’s view, everyone has value. Every moment until the very end is special, so the elderly can still honor God and take advantage of His joys. The same goes for the disabled. More struggles simply means more chances for victory. Every life is important, even those that haven't started yet. They can see it all one day, too. With the right view of God, anyone and everyone can come together in peace and hope.

     Maybe the sun begins to break the clouds and the depressed person smiles despite himself. The rain stops, and he exits his car to the smell of clean air. He might notice a soaking wet paper stuck to the pavement. He gently picks it up to see a Bible verse. Suddenly his world is full of hope.

people on Instagram and my parents’ friends on Facebook. I’m learning all I can and trying out new things. I’m taking in the people and the world around me and enjoying it all with wide eyes.

     I’m already on the first step to reaching my goal. Another part of this step is entering contests to gain exposure. From here, I’ll try to get featured in some blogs and magazines, and sell some of my work. I’ll work on writing my book, and when it's ready to publish, I’ll work on that. Once I’m a little older and have more money, freedom, and experience, I’ll go for bigger things; art galleries and exhibits, book signings, and who knows what else. The sky’s the limit!

     When I think about it, my goal isn’t very specific. That doesn’t matter; I don’t need to know everything when I’m only fifteen years old.The important thing is that I have a goal, even if it’s outlandish. I’m going to try my best to achieve whatever form this dream will take.

Never growing old.

Ever rising passion, 

Simple wonder at the world.

Age 

Is just a number

Maybe 

We can choose it.

Old and wise,

Young and vibrant,

What if

We could have it all? 

What if

There were no limits?

Mirror, mirror, go away.

Don’t ruin me, don’t waste the day.

Mirrored wall breaking down,

I think at last I hit the ground.

Maybe I should let go

But I don't know where to start

And it kills me to be like this

Writing another depressing poem

About everything and nothing

Seemingly real problems 

That don’t exist

But I need to get it out

Sometimes I want to run away

But the person I really need to escape is me

I could leave it all behind

To have a great adventure

But I'd still be by myself 

My thoughts wheeling faster 

I just want to go

But I know I won't

Why am I such a good kid 

Why do I have to care about others’ feelings

Why do I have to feel my own

I need an escape

I used to find it in my mind

But now everything is so tangled 

I’d get lost up there

I guess I'll just keep going

On this rocky path

I'll work until I am everything I want to be 

It might be the wrong mentality

But determination can't hurt

If I'm already broken

I'll keep pursuing my dreams 

And try to enjoy the journey

Even when it feels like the earth

Is swallowing me

I can't run away

But maybe I can fly to new heights

Someday

How to say no.

I don't want to stop.

Please don't give up.

Maybe I'll crack,

But I won't let myself break.

I'll get up again, 

Learn from each mistake.

I'm never going to stop. 

Please don't give up on me.

These wings of glass,

They seem unsteady.

Life is tough.

Am I ready?

Nothing can make me stop. 

I won't give up on me.

fiercer until she thought her body would explode. She opened her mouth to cough or scream, but was met with the thick taste of rot. She writhed, kicking her arms and legs with the little strength she had left as the invisible enemy pursued her. It was no use, no matter which she turned, it was all the same. All black. All painful. Her mind was racing like a guinea pig on its wheel, so fast that she couldn’t catch any of the thoughts. Tears stung her eyes. Everything hurt. The world was spinning. That was when she saw a murky, green-brown light. She wasn't thinking at all, all she knew or cared about was reaching that light. Her own body was a blur as she thrashed with all her might. At last she bobbed up into blinding sunlight, coughing fiercely and gasping for air. She fell under again almost immediately, but kicked her way up once again. The water almost seemed angry, though. She was only able to hack out one strained shriek for help before it forced her under again. This time she stopped fighting. The world was already dark. Now it was going numb, too. 

"Are you sure that's all you remember? Sarah asks as Kayla finishes retelling the story.

"Uh huh,” Kayla replies in a hollow tone. "After that I woke up on the beach and you were there, and we started talking. You mentioned a friend named Kayla and I thought that was familiar. You know what happened since then." She says it all without any emotion, fiddling with the pink petals of a nearby flower as she talks. They are hidden in Sarah's garden, which is between Mrs. Wilson's house and the shed that serves as Sarah and Kayla's bedroom. The shed is tucked back into the dry weeds where nobody notices it. Because nobody ever goes back there, the garden is a bit secret. The reason it has to be secret is because clean water is scarce in the town. It needs to be brought in from other places, but it's getting scarce there, too. Not only does Sarah need to share her rations to make the flowers grow, she needs to protect the flowers from the toxic rain. Because of these inconvenient factors, gardening is illegal. Sarah can't give up her garden, though. It's the only place where she feels like she can breathe, both literally and mentally. Now sunlight is slanting through the leaves and landing on the rusty bench where Sarah and Kayla sit. Sunflowers are growing up to their left, and the ground ahead is carpeted in purple. Two white butterflies are playing in the air, and a bird chirps not far away.

"I know what happened from there up until you saw those butterflies and said they reminded you of something. What was it?" 

“I don't know.”

"Well, think! Don't you want to remember?" Sarah presses gently. Kayla shruggs.

"Hey, I get that knowing can be hard. I know how my parents died, and now I'm afraid of fire, but I'd still rather have that than just cluelessness."

Kayla is silent. 

"Do you want to live in the dark?"

"I really don't care." 

"Do you care about anything?"

“No.”

“I should've known, I guess. Ever since I met you, you haven't smiled once. You're beautiful, but you’d be so much prettier if you smiled.” Sarah pauses thoughtfully.

Kayla knows what she wants to ask, but she is hesitant. "Do you think I have a personality?"

Sarah doesn't know what to say. She doesn't want to be rude, but Kayla needs her to answer honestly. "I think you could have one,” is all she can offer. 

"I knew I didn't,” Kayla states almost matter-of-factly.

"I'm sorry.”

“But you think I could?" There is almost a hint of emotion in her tone. The tiniest glint of hope. "Of course, who's stopping you?" 

"I don't know. Somebody."

"What?" 

"I think... I think I used to have a personality. I used to care. I can just barely геmember what it felt like. I want it back, but I just... can't. Something won't let me." 

"Kayla! Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Sarah asks, excited. 

Kayla shrugs."What's the point?"

"The fact that you want it proves there's still something there! Whatever is holding you up,

we can work past it. Nothing can block you from being yourself!" Sarah exclaims, her brown eyes sparkling passionately.

Kayla just stares into space.

“Pease. Just try,” Sarah pleads more gently. 

Kayla continues to sit perfectly still, her graceful hands folded in her lap, for an unnaturally long time. 

"Kayla?" Sarah begins to get worried. “What's going on?”

Kayla still doesn't move, but her breathing gradually gets heavier until she is panting as if in terror. 

"Kayla..."

All at once she sucks in her breath and springs up off of the bench. She leans against a small blossoming tree and does the most shocking thing while still catching her breath. She smiles-- no, grins. True to what Sarah said earlier, Kayla is a thousand times more beautiful when she smiles. Her pale skin lights up and two perfect dimples appear on her smooth cheeks. Her petite nose scrunches ever so slightly and, most importantly, her crystal blue eyes open wide to let the world in. She is so shocked, all she can do is laugh.

Sarah, taken aback, can't help giggling, too. “Kayla! Are you ok?" she manages to squeeze out. 

Kayla shakes her head, causing her curls to bounce before answering. "Not Kayla! I know who I really am!"

"What?" Sarah stops giggling and stares into the eyes of Kayla, who has also regained her composure. "Did you say…” 

Kayla nods. "You were right, nothing can stop me! I remember everything! I have a personality!” 

Sarah doesn't know how to respond. “Kayla, that's... amazing!" 

"I remember my real name, too. Call me Kalalaya.”

"Kalalaya?" 

She nods.

"That's not a normal name. I love it." 

"It's not normal for humans, anyway." 

"Wait..." 

"I'd better explain from the beginning."

So Kalalaya tells the whole story. As it turns out, she isn't human. She's a living particle of water. The community that she lived in before makes up the lake near Sarah's hometown where the foul water comes from. They are called the cursed, because they were doomed to a stagnant life of waste by the evil witch, Genella. Legends claim that Genella cursed the community by mistake in an experiment but didn’t bother trying to fix the damage. Nobody could punish her since the crime was unintentional, but she still faced seclusion. The lack of contact with other creatures and the knowledge that everyone was blaming her made Genella  hard and bitter.

The curse made everyone useless. Some got angry and rebelled, completing their usual journeys anyway. This spread the poison farther and harmed the crops in town. Most just stayed put, living a useless life of nothingness. Spirits in the community sank low and lives became bland. Kalalaya handled it differently. She knew she couldn't let anger control her since that only harmed others, but she wasn't going to sit around and let life pass by without any action, either. What she did was make her own fun and adventures where she was, spreading her happiness and curiosity with the rest of the community to ease the gloom. Life was pretty good for Kalalaya, who never stopped dreaming about going on journeys someday, but what she didn't know was that she had an enemy. It was Genella, who was by that point an angry and depressed creature who didn’t want anyone to be happy without her. With nothing better to do, she set her focus on getting rid of Kalalaya.

An opportunity came sooner than Genella had expected when rumors started spreading about a water creature who'd turned into a human. Kalalaya thought that would be the perfect opportunity for adventure, so she began searching out ways to do it herself. That was when Genella reached out in disguise and offered to perform the magic on the over-eager girl.

"We met in a cave where she told me to go a few weeks ago, and then she cornered me and revealed who she really was and that her plan was to turn me into a dull human forever to get rid of me,” Kalalaya goes on.

"Why would she tell you?” Sarah asks, eyes wide. 

"I'll bet she wanted to see me afraid, rotten scum--"

"Were you afraid?"

“Well, I don't think anyone could be pleased about something like this! But it's over now, and I have my personality back, so it worked out." 

“Did it, now?” a high, cruel voice demanded from the side of the garden, making both girls jump. They turn to see a tall, bony figure standing with her hands on her hips. Her wrinkled face is creased in a permanent frown.

"Mrs. Wilson! W-why are you--" Sarah begins. 

"Sarah, dear! I asked you to wash the dishes ages ago! Now stop playing in fairyland and show some gratitude for what I've done for you!" Mrs. Wilson snaps, uprooting a sunflower and tossing it aside as she talks. 

"Yes m--”

"Wait!" Kalalaya puts her arm out to stop Sarah from standing up. 

"Ah, and Kayla--"

Kalalaya growels at this. 

“--you never emptied the waste bin, and now I've got to do it myself.” With that, Mrs. Wilson picks up a basket the girls hadn't noticed before and dumps its contents into a patch of petunias. 

"You can't just--”

"That's going to hurt my people!” 

"Oh, that's right, Kalalaya, was it?" 

"How long have you been listening?" 

"Long enough to know what I need to know." 

"And that means…”

“I know that my fool of a sister is at it again. I'm on her side this time, but of course she can't pull it off! Now I'll need to step in." 

"Wait, did you say--”

"Yes, yes, what a shock. Unfortunately, Genella is my sister.”

"But you're a human..."

"Did you honestly think she just made that one mistake? I'm another of her failed experiments. Filthy rat turned me human, can't turn me back." 

"Then why are on her side now?" Kalalaya asks, immersed in the story.

"You were this close to breaking her curse with your happiness--" Mrs. Wilson spits this word out, “--and they don't deserve to fly free while I'm stuck here. Getting rid of you was the best bet. Since she couldn't do it, I will," Mrs. Wilson raises her voice on the last two words, making both girls jump. In a quick motion, she has them hovering in the air above the bench. They both shriek at the same time. Kalalaya begins kicking and writhing in the air while Sarah freezes in terror.

"Let us go!" Kalalaya shouts. With a nod of her head, Mrs. Wilson dropps both girls to the ground. Sarah crashes into the corner of the bench and sits panting on the ground. Kalalaya Falls onto a thorny rose bush. "Thanks," she grumbles. 

"That was just for fun. Now it's time to finish what my idiot sister started!" 

"She's going to take away your passion. Do something!" Sarah whispers urgently. 

Kalalaya immediately begins to panic. Palms sweating, she has the feeling like she's suffocating. It's the same way she felt when Genella cursed her the first time. But she made it through that. She can do it again. Before she knows what she's doing, she stands up and realizes that Mrs. Wilson is on the ground breathing hard. "What did I just do?" Kalalaya asks.

"Something,” Sarah breathes.

"Did I... take her powers?"

"Looks like it."

Mrs. Wilson is now pulling herself up, sputtering and swearing. She waves her arms at the girls like mad, but nothing happens. 

"Were you too strong for her?"

"I guess." 

"I wonder if you could defeat Genella, too. Would that break the curse?" 

"It makes sense. Going after the source has to work better than ignoring the problem. I'll just have to figure out how to get to her." 

"Are you aware that you're shrinking?" 

"Ah! What? Sarah, I think I'm changing back!" Kalalaya is already half as tall as her friend. 

"Well, that explains how you'll get to Genella."

"Will I be strong enough to defeat her?" 

"Of course. You can handle anything."

"What about Mrs. Wilson?"

"I'll get the police to take care of her."

"And you?”

"I'll be fine, but will I ever see you again?"

"Every time it rains, "Kalalaya promises just as she shrinks so small that Sarah can't see her.

A dream.

You know it now.

What do you do?

You could roll over 

And try to go back to sleep,

Or you could rub your eyes,

Push away the mist,

And get up.

Slip your shoes on.

Say hello to the morning.

Greet the world.

Live in reality 

And bring your dream along. 

Take a step

Even just a small one,

And then take another 

To bring that dream 

Into reality.

I want to hear your song all night.

School starts going extra slow.

I spend twenty minutes on a question I know.

The music is the only thing on my mind.

It's all confusing;

I still feel fueled,

But so ill-timed.

School lasts all day long

And my night is burned on the song.

I have nothing to do with the ideas, you see,

I’ve run out of time to be me.

This is like a drug. 

It's like a medicine,

But I'm addicted.

It helps me, 

Heals me,

But too much only gets me hurt. 

Now I'm sick and burned.

"What did I do?"

I need to balance on this narrow tightrope. 

You inspire me to take the best of life, 

Make the best in life, 

So I just need to stop,

Focus,

Hit reset,

And full speed ahead. 

You're my fuel

As long as I'm careful

So you don't become my engine fire.

As long as I don’t start a fire,

You can only bring me higher.

Every night

I feel heavy as a weight.

‘Sleep tonight,

I'll do tomorrow right,’

I always tell myself.

So the cycle goes.

Filled with painful ninety percents

On schoolwork

And too many saves on Pinterest.

In between.

My words mean nothing.

I say what I'll do

To start or end the circular day,

But I never do it.

I say it to keep my wheels turning.

I don't want to stop moving. 

Even if I ride in the same old ruts 

Over and over again,

At least I'm moving.

The circle grows smaller

Little by little.

I'm growing dizzy. 

I spiral smaller and smaller

And soon I'll have nowhere to go.

Dizzy, so dizzy.

I need to get out. 

I need to break free.

These ruts, 

Why do they hold me?

I'm done

Running in circles.

There are infinite tomorrows,

More blank pages,

New roads to explore.

A whole future for me to write.

I need to start somewhere.

I'll go for today

Before today is yesterday.

It might be scary,

But I'm so dizzy there are stars in my eyes,

So I don't care. 

I'm going for it.

The rut is broken.

No more, 'This or that will be the time.’

This

Is

The time.

Now my head is clear.

Well, we've all got one of those, 

Big or small, 

Tiny or tall.

So what do we do with that dream? 

It's more simple than it may seem.

Start the ride, 

Put one foot before the other

And hold on tight.

They say a very small percent makes it.

A high percent knows that

And doesn't try.

A high percent gives up,

Because they're lazy

Or scared

Or "too busy."

You're never too busy to dream

Never too busy to try.

A high percent gets discouraged,

But you don’t have to.

Just enjoy the journey

So you won’t lose the destination.

It might sound like a hard climb,

But all you need to do

Is focus on today.

Get up right now.

Do it.

Take a step.

You really can’t know

Unless you try.

named Makaila. The story was called "Magical Makaila". It was very heavily inspired by Sofia the First and Cinderella even made a special appearance in it. I was proud of my tiny illustrated book when it was finished and stapled together (though I'm not sure where I got all the supplies). I think it was Grandma who said that Great Grandma would love for me to read her my story and Dad who explained that Great Grandma wasn't able to talk so I knew she wasn't ignoring me.

    So the two of them took me to the small room where she was. I think I got a hug from those weak arms. She looked so different laying there in some hospital gown instead of her usual big shirts with teddy bears and kittens on them in old lady designs. I sat down and read the story and she smiled when it was finished. I don't exactly remember what happened next, but in a while we were in our red van again, getting ready to leave. I remember most of the time I felt a little bit nervous but mostly indifferent about the whole situation. I didn't think she could die because I just couldn't imagine it. But then Dad was telling us about her last breath and how she had smiled, excited to see the Lord. "Don't say 'last breath,'" Kennedy said through tears. "It sounds too sad."

    I love my Great Grandma, who, even while she was dyeing, listened to me yammer on about princesses. She heard my first story and I can picture her up there smiling about how far I've come. Great Grandma was an amazing Christian woman and I know she is in heaven praising God right now. I can't wait to see her again one day and read her another story. This one will be about God's grace.

Simple Description

     The word for me is dreamer.

Growing up Without Getting Bogged Down

     Our passions still keep us youthful.

Each character is so real,

It's like they're all my friends.

Swirls of color make someone's dreams

And I can't tear my eyes from the canvas.

The sheer beauty 

Takes my breath away.

Life is amazing

And incredibly inspiring.

I feel buoyant and beautiful

Taking it all in. 

I itch to be in action;

My fingers vibrate for the nearest pencil.

Ideas are being stirred.

I can feel it fizzing up inside of me. 

The yearning is too much 

When I see the world outside.

Every frosted branch,

All of the clear water,

It calls me.

I pour out all of my feelings.

With the brushes on my desk.

Intense inspiration flows from my fingertips

And a smile is always on my lips.

I dream and I create.

Maybe someday

I’ll inspire someone else

And the cycle will keep on rolling

And coloring the world. 

They deck every haul

Every wreath they hang

They're having a jolly ball 

As holiday songs are sang

Their lights are twinkling

Before every eye

The warm glow sets us dreaming

Deep into the night sky

At any moment this rope may snap,

And when it does,

Watch me sprout great wings, 

Large as my imagination, 

And fly away

To my home in the stars 

Where all is safe.

I'll bid goodbye to the ground,

Hello to the moon,

Such a jolly father he is. mother he is. 

I’ll greet my siblings, the stars, 

Sparkling and laughing with them. 

I’ll glimpse my mother, sun, 

Hard at work on the other side, 

And wave hello..

I will continue to swim

Through the loving atmosphere; 

Straining to reach the top,

Always just a few strokes away,

Never quite reaching it,

But still enjoying the journey,

Until I'll snap awake and realize:

I didn't travel to the sky,

I was already there.

The ground is a magical carpet

Of a flowery array.

Only a few have not bloomed yet;

Most have opened up their glorious petals

To show what makes them so lovely

And when the right time calls

I will bloom, too. Just wait and see.

Wednesday.

I have smiled all night in bed

And also all day.

My art has been accepted!

I have new confidence

That my writing could be, too.

My excitement is immense;

How to contain it, I have no clue.

Thursday.

I bickered with my little sister

In a childish way.

She offended me about a picture.

I came at her with my paintbrush.

I failed to keep my anger in

But next time, into rage I will not rush.

When we fail, second chances let us win.

Friday.

I did not do it this time

But it's okay.

I'll keep on using rhythm and rhyme

To honor God, the One who made me

And gave me the talent and passion.

I will always be loved by Him, you see.

He is here, no matter what may happen.

To share his mercy and grace about. 

You see, talents aren't just given out. 

No, God examines carefully

To see what most fits you or me 

So we can do our best possible

And use our talents to they're full 

To spread the love 

Of God above.