Fire In My Soul

You tell me to grow my hair out again, because you like it better that way

You tell me to stop wearing pink because it makes me look like a child

You tell me to put down the book I’m reading because your pleasure is more important than my mind

What if I told you that the choppiness of my locks sparks my thoughts to freedom

What if I told you the color pink ignites my soul to flames

What if I told you I was not made to cater to your needs but to my own

I was not born with fire in my heart and passion in my soul to be mediocre

I refuse to burn out; so I think I must say goodbye.

By: Amelia Pratt

Age: 19

Wa

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Gas Station Nights

Sometimes you get stuck in a gas station.

One second you are jamming along to your favorite songs, driving into a pretty sunset. The next your truck is smoking, and then being towed. And before you know it there you are. Stuck at a gas station in Mart, TX. 

I think that’s how life goes sometimes. You’re on top of the world. Not just content, not just getting by, but truly happy. You have your favorite song, and your sunset, and your smile. Everything is as it should be.

But then comes stress, and then comes heartbreak, or financial burdens. Then comes death and tragedy and bad test grades or someone who makes you mad. Goodbye, favorite song and sunset. Hello, engine smoke and tow truck man.

But then that tow truck man named Kevin, who has three kids himself, takes you somewhere safer, because he cares. And then your friends say they will drive two hours on a Friday night to come get you, with no hesitation at all. And then at that gas station in that rinky dink little Texas town plays some good music, and you get some coffee, and suddenly it’s not so bad.

Find your people, y’all. Annoying things happen but the best people make it do-able. 

By: Amelia Pratt

Age 19

Moonlight Dancing

I watched as the moonlight danced on your skin and all I could think was why

Why do your eyes search for her in a crowded room?

Why does her soul dance with yours in the dark?

Why does the sun rising remind you of her laugh?

Why isn’t it me?

By: Amelia Pratt

Age 19