Self-Awakening Through Poetry


who would have thought
growing pains could
hurt this good

it’s like my sore legs
are done resting
ready to run again

it’s like all the preteen acne
doesn’t matter anymore
i have learned
to love myself regardless

my feelings
have been through all 12 grades
we are no longer going through
emotional puberty

my feelings are now in college
somewhat matured

I’m Worth At Least a Benjamin

all these years
you have been paying me in pennies
hell, it’s like when i was 
a minimum-wage bowling alley employee

when you speak,
i hear bowling balls
crashing into pins
you redefined the word “strike”

put me in the gutter
spare me
of the collisions
you bring

you are the arcade room—
filled with old playfulness
and fake light
there is naïve hope lost in you

your eyes are the color
of the pale, faded pastels
on these walls—
they were once lively and bright

all these years
i thought i deserved the pennies
but i deserve to be paid in presidents

By Faith Chandler
Visual by Trejon D'Angelo

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