The Bluestocking 2022-23

Naomi McDonald | Grade 9 Shipwreck

Naomi McDonald

Hush…

S i l e n c e floods the air.

Floods the streets. Sometimes I just can’t hear my own heartbeat. ShiverskVjkkkkk in July. Voices shutdown. When will they listen? Will they ever listen? I am broken inside like a clock

without the gears. A poorly patched up sail, entering the eye of the storm. I feel hollow, flooded with tears. I am the empty canvas crying to be painted. The book holding a story of countless pages. But can’t be written. I hold the pain of an

Shipwreck

ocean. Its fake beauty and its slaughters. I hold a heart that knows nothing, but hurt. That’s me. The Pain . The Grief. The Sorrow. This world of bittersweet tears. Is the taste of humanity.

unwanted presence, that consumes you. If only the light would shine. Is there any light left to shine? There's an ocean filled with many fish, but one day one’s bound to bite you. I’m sinking m but I don't know what’s at the bottom. Am I m the problem? My life? My existence? Fate watches over like an

////Emotions can only go so deep, before it drowns someone. Floods her in silent tears. The roars of Kkkkkkwaves and emotion crash to shore. Echoes in my brain. The hermit. Solitude means there is Kkkkkkkkkkkno one to stab your back; but, it also means your sail will never rise. The telephone mmmmmmm ring that you can't bear to pick up. The question which you fear the answer. The waves of life. The journey. I have the weight of the boat on my Kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkshoulders. Yet, I can’t seem to die. Drowning. Souls cry. njm kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkllllllDestiny lies. Sometimes it’s guilt. Others? Silence. kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkllllllmmmSometimes it is easier to be quiet. KkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkllllllmmmlkljnTo fall. To sink. To drown. But does Kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkllllllmmmlkljnjjnj that mean we should Kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkllllllmmmlkljnjjnjkn m give up the Kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkllllllmmmlkljnjjnjknkjnjmm fight?

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