Badgerblog

I am a wall.

I am sandy goat wandering on a beach lying on my back. I am a wall that closes in on everyone’s secrets. I am a toad on a rod and a road on a boat. I am a wild roadrunner hidden in the bushes while the sandy goat is flat on his back.

Viki, high school, TSBVI

And so a storm rolls in,
in the sky
and in my mind,
where I find
even God cries
for the unhappiness
of a wayward son.

Vaughan, eleventh grade, St. Michael’s Catholic Academy

Deep and lonely lingers
Midnight’s lush surrender
Whispers afar yet near
Starlit tears fall tender

Moments’ ebbing murmur
Soft enticing gaze
Sighs of gentle goodbyes
Vivid upon the haze

Wind on silent waters
Torn and broken heartstrings
Sweet melody evoked
Gift of precious nothings

Gently swaying willows
Soft sweeping moonlight
Luscious silvery glaze
Kindless bittersweet night

Pen dips pearly pages
Sorrows will time withstand
Fleeting lonely eve
Retrace a dreamer’s hand

Olivia-Elyse, twelfth grade, Pflugerville High School

Our relationship is awkward.
Awkward hugs,
awkward smiles,
awkward silences.
We try our best
not to get too close,
not to hug that much.
Mostly because . . . it’s awkward.

I’ve known him since sixth grade.
He’s always been the
prideful,
competitive,
confident one.
Me, not so much.
I’m the one with
no pride,
uncompetitive,
and unconfident.
He wrote in my yearbook
last year,
“These years have been great
because you were always there
to be second chair,”
then was excited
when he rhymed “there” and “chair”
and didn’t even realize it
’til after he wrote it.

Lately though,
he has been rude and odd,
like he’s PMS-ing or something,
so that just adds to the awkwardness,
especially when that girl is all over him,
or his ex wants to get back with him
because he grew a couple of inches,
and they have three classes together.

I’m not angry
or jealous,
just filled with amazement
at just how
awkward
our relationship has grown over the years.

Jessica, ninth grade, Badgerdog alum