Poetry 4 before you by alyssa bernier 6 quicksand by alyssa bernier 8 efflorescense by anna carroll 10 a play about me by aidan allen
artwork 12 doubtful deloris by lauren dubuque 13 a complicated mind 2 by lauren dubuque 14-19 featured artist: maggie wilkerson
fiction 22 26
dentist appointment by ann-maree gammell why can't i be lost by robert pordea
essay 30
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making mental marks by chloe schultz
Dear readers, sadness is not limited to the color blue and tears. Rather, it is a complex emotion that manifests in everyone differently. From heartbreak to a feeling of isolation, our bleak existence is categorized by constantly being let down. in this volume of ergo, we explore the depth of human emotion and the ways it presents itself in others. Sincerely,
ergo staff: Lanie sanders- editor-in-chief
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before you. by alyssa bernier
giving in unconsciously he turned my flower into ash left vulnerable and alone i am broken, no shattered naked and afraid; used by a beast i was the prey he was so desperate to kill he took and left; i am empty so fragile, so delicate; i wilted under his touch unaware of his darkness that would eclipse my light i was the sun and he the moon the light is so far: a fairytale give me back the innocence he took before the light left met take me back to before you
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poetry
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poetry
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poetry
quicksand. by alyssa bernier
the bleakness is calling me i yearn for the quietness that will engulf numbing the loud eclipsing thoughts submerging; drowning the pain bringing peace to the endless hurt swallowing the trapped tears carrying me away from this eternal hell i am tired; it is calling
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poetry
efflorescense poem and art by anna carroll
For some, when they see me They see him, smiling. I look inward, searching, But my view is blocked by a girl, As she waywardly will grow Lost. I was eight when I lost Him, instantly a diamond within me. Shrouded in the kimberlite of her soul as she continues to grow, He shimmers, smiling. Placed by pressure, he is a part of this girl. Yet the riches of his love, his memory, evade me, despite the searching. Why do I keep Searching? I pull a fading map of memories from the back pocket of my mind. I am Lost. I ask for the Girl To help Me. Instead she remains, placidly smiling And tells me to grow. “But How?” I cry, “How can I grow?” I stare at her, probing, searching Her smiling Face for a reaction, a twitch, an inkling of truth to guide me towards what feels Lost. Nothing. She is me All those years ago, when I was little, sunshine girl. He would always beam, remarking I was the happiest girl. In the pools of his rosy cheeks, there was no question, no doubt. Grow! Splashing about in childish song, I dove into the gregarious swells of his face, shining for me. Rock and roll was he, with imagination for hair. Searching For a giggle, he told tales of tigers that battled onion-powered giants and lost, Of smiling Frogs, smiling Upon the girl, Letting the warts of life be lost. Grow! But with swiftness my giant fell, casting a shadow on earth. Sunflower is searching For her guiding idol. Unfazed, she stares back at me.
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poetry
Politely smiling, I thank the girl. She is right. His voice was stolen by time, his embrace lost, past the point of searching. I will carry his greatness. he is within me, and I will rise with the sun and grow.
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poetry
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a play about me by aidan allen
I’m left in the dirt with my scrapes and bruises as my only friends. Cuts of self doubt and loneliness dig deep into my skin to be seen as a constant reminder that I am playing a role, a fiction A giant play that has lasted for 16 years and I'm about ready to pull the curtain I feel as if I cannot feel but I’m forced to express my emotions so there can be “character development” but I wish I didn't have to feel because feeling would be accepting and I’m too god damn stubborn to accept so I continue to feel as if I cannot feel I’m playing a role in a play where I didn’t even look at the script and I have to improv every line that is thrown my way and i’m so incredibly good at it that no one can recognize the pure panic that I put behind every single word. I’m the only character in a play that I had no say over, decisions weren’t run by me to check if I was okay with them because I do not get to decide decisions I merely get to watch as the actions of the play where I am the only character casted unfold. I might as well be in the audience to a play about me but not in the VIP section because I did not receive an invitation I get the luxury of sitting in the back and laughing at the punchlines of my life with the other guests who had to pay to get in Anybody can be a critic and right now it looks as if everybody has decided to critique every breath I take, every movement I make Every little thing I do that I try to make my own so I don't have to feel like I'm stuck in a play with a script i didn’t write. I swear it feels as if I've been stuck in a giant play that has lasted 16 long years and it feels as if I'm about ready to pull the curtain.
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doubtful deloris by lauren dubuque
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a complicated mind by lauren dubuque
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featured
maggie wi
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indulge
ed artist
wilkerson
gement
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what it tells you
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us within ourselves
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maude
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amalgamation -19art
by ann-maree gammell
dentist appointment
dentist appointment
“Please make sure to numb my mouth.” That’s all I could muster up as I trembled in the seat that was able to fold into an almost bed-like shape. I clenched my fists together. ‘Numb it so I feel nothing as you poke and prod. Make it so senseless that I can’t feel the pain that was already engraved in me, long before this dentist appointment.’ I thought, secretly adding onto the short colloquy we had.
The dentist nodded before leaving my view, almost blinding me with the glaring light that helped her see into the dark abyss that was my mouth. Inside, she would see a cave filled with the lies I gave you. She would view the enormous amount of deception I would relentlessly try to appease you with. Inside that cave there were mostly phrases that said ‘I’m fine’ or foretold how ‘exultant’ I was.
“Open wide, sweetie.” The dentist cooed as I was struggling to keep my mouth open. Then, with hesitation- I gulped and opened my mouth for the lady who was trying to cleanse my closet of plague, fibs and the desire to be loved by you. Instantly, she came back into view and placed a rubber block inside my mouth to keep it pried open. At this point, she could see all the decay. What our love once was, what it could have been, is now rotted in my gums.
“Be still, this’ll make sure the needle doesn’t hurt.” She said, her voice almost muffled behind the mask she wore. Nodding my head, I trusted this woman who I didn’t even know for thirty minutes. ‘This is batshit.’ was all I could think as she spread the pink syrup over the spot she would enter her needle. ‘How can I rely on her more than I can you?’
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ann-maree gammell
“Time for the needle. it’s okay to close your eyes, hun.” She mumbled as she stopped applying the only thing that could save me from any pain. Ambivalently, I closed my eyes. My stomach churned as I waited for what was described as ‘a small pinch that would only hurt for a couple of seconds.’ Once again, I started squeezing my fists. While waiting, I queried the possibility of this being more excruciating than our amity that wasn’t so cordial.
Almost when I least expected it, I felt the woman wrench the small needle into an area in my mouth. I wasn’t exactly sure where but I knew that all I could feel was an unpleasant pressure. A whimper reached past my lips as I fought back tears from leaving my bagged eyes. Almost as quickly as the needle found its way into my gums, it exited. I looked up at the woman before feeling my body lightly shake. My lips trembled and before I knew it, tears were sliding down my cheeks.
"You lied to me.” I whispered to the dentist. After trying so hard to win me over and make me believe that the short procedure would be painless, I was still greeted with something much worse than a squeeze at my gums. Peering up at the tiny woman who was supposed to help me, I could almost see the smirk plastered onto her shadowed face.
"Darling, you started it.” She whispered, taking a dental mirror and scaler to clean off anything attached to the web of lies that was attached to my teeth and the roof of my mouth. A wave of confusion hit as I tried to think of what the woman could have possibly meant.
Surprisingly, years later I admit I still don’t know what that woman was talking about. I pondered about it for months and even almost a whole year but eventually, I had forgotten about the whole experience. Just like I had forgotten about my unrequited love for him.
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why can’t i be by robert pordea
be lost
why can't i be lost
If there was ever a time to run, this was it. There’s nothing to do, and there’s nothing to fix. You can’t repair something that no longer exists. So sometimes you just have to run. Even if you don’t know where to go. Go somewhere you know or go get lost. It’ll be better than where you are. If life is short, then when does it start feeling that way. Every day is like a decade and I just want to stop. I want to leave and get lost. After what happens after I got hurt. After I hurt her. It was just a sad situation. No matter how you look at it, it’s a situation worth getting lost for. I mean it’s a situation worth disappearing for. Starting new would be easier than fixing it now. So what’s the point in staying here. If she can’t handle it and I can’t handle it, then how can anyone? So it’s time to get lost. More lost than I already. With nothing, I have to get lost. The sad thing is I always was lost. Lost in a sense of what’s going around me. What I was doing. What anyone was doing. So maybe in getting lost, and that is lost in the traditional place, I’ll fit my part. I’ll just be a confused and a lost person in a place where everyone is lost too, but this time I’ll know I don’t have to hide it. The thing is being lost isn’t bad. Thinking that you aren’t lost when you are is. You’ll wander around aimlessly thinking that you’re being proactive when, truly, you’re just breaking things that you think need fixing. The sad thing is, I can’t wait to be lost. I can’t wait to know everyone knows I’m lost. That I’m simply not there, but they know I’m working on it. Even if they’re a stranger. Even if they see me making progress. I hate that I can’t just be lost with no one thinking that I shouldn’t be. I hate that I’m not allowed to be lost. If there was ever a time for me to be lost it should be now. I’ve lost everything. I lost her, I lost my motivation, I lost my passion. So why can’t I go searching for it without being judged. It’s a sad thing to not be able to be lost. The worst thing is, is that I don’t remember what happened. Life was good. My job was good. I was in love with the love of my life. My family was loving and caring and if there was a perfect family it would’ve been mine. So what happened? I happened. I knew I was lost and I didn’t want to admit. I didn’t think I was allowed to be. And If there was was a person that was lost, I was a prime example of one.
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art by anna carroll
robert pordea
I lost my job. That was the first piece of my life that fell apart. My performance staggered. Not to the point where I would completely lose my job, but the company was laying people off, and I entered a slump at the worst time possible. It wasn’t that I was a bad worker. It’s just that I wasn’t good enough. The second part was my family. My parents were getting a divorce and in their wake they left two of my younger brothers. Both lived at home and the eldest still had two years of high school left. The worst thing of all, is that they wanted me to choose sides. Two people who once loved each other, and I loved both equally, wanted me to pick between the two. They fought over their children. They fought over us like property. The last was her. She was perfect. Nothing could’ve been more perfect in my life, than her. She was loving, encouraging, and supporting. Even with all the crap that was going on, she was supporting. She loved me though I was failing. At first I tried to get back on my feet. I was looking for jobs, trying to keep my relationship with my parents, and I tried to console my brothers as best I could. But as things didn’t change and the light dwindled, so did I. I started to lack effort in everything. Yet she was still there. She was perfect, but a person could only take so much. As I lacked effort she started to put more in. It became a one-way street. One day I finally asked why she was doing it all. Why she always tried. Why she cared. Was it love or was it pity. That hurt. I mean how could it not? After that she just left. She couldn’t take it anymore, and I don’t blame her. If there was something that I wish I could do, it would be to find where I am, and where I’m going. However I can’t find that without working to find it. So why won’t anyone let me. Why am I not allowed to be lost with no sense of direction, because eventually I’ll figure it out. I’ll know where the road I need to take is and I’ll know that getting lost is going to be a hard thing to do. So, why can’t I just be lost.
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making mental marks
by chloe schultz
art by cra
l
craig eddy
making mental marks
The mental health of students all around the world is overlooked and seemingly uncared for. Every school likes to let themselves believe that their students are perfectly healthy in all categories. Every single day students put on their “school face” which every staff member seems to believe. Kids are never taught how to deal with the mental changes they face and have to overcome. Every teacher believes they know their students. After all: good grades equal good mental state, right? Teachers and staff do not understand the mindset of students as the years pass and curriculums change. I have personally watched my friends breakdown from years of stress and standards that are too high to reach. Their families and friends in and out of school expect things from them that they can never seem to reach. Kids hold themselves to the line of standard set in their life, and no matter how much effort they put in, they feel as though it wasn’t enough if their report card has too low of a number. Nobody truly seems to understand. If they do, they don’t really care. People break every night from the stress of homework and tests that pile up day by day every week. Kids have so many factors that affect their mental health. Through the school year, the sanity of students is greatly tested and typically lowered. Through this huge change they go through in every aspect, they never really learn what may be happening inside their brains. Mental health is a single slide in a Powerpoint put in a couple assemblies or a required health class throughout the year. Always mentioned, but never discussed. Students know that mental health issues exist in the world and in their minds, but they never know what to do beyond diagnose themselves with every disorder they read about online. School is one of, if not the biggest, effector of mental health. This is the place that is known to help kids learn about themselves while they grow into people that can succeed in the real world. Finance, English, and languages are taught every single day to hundreds of thousands of participating students. Through all these classes, there is never really an exposure to students of their mental health and the priority it has in our lives. Mental health is just pushed under a desk in school and glanced right over. There are no mandatory classes in place that can openly teach students about how they can increase their happiness and truly put themselves in the right mental state Nearly every student you could ask would understand the point being made. Nearly 20 percent of adolescents are estimated to have open and out mental health disorders. However, there are many more students experiencing mental issues that they are completely unsure with how to handle. I know how it is because I was that kid. I remember not understanding what
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chloe schultz
was going on inside my head or how I could deal with it. There were no open resources that could point me in the direction of help. The things I thought I was feeling were briefly mentioned in health class a couple times a year with no deeper look into them. Schools think that they’re doing so much by being aware that severe mental health issues and disorders exist, but they’re not. Sorry to tell you, but your flyers around the school and the two seminars a year discussing how to prevent suicide does nothing for those students who are struggling alone but are scared to speak up. There need to be paths that can be taken so students can learn how to help themselves and their friends without being forced to tell the staff members that they never see or get to know. These kids go through overwhelming stress and pain every single day, but they don’t have the first idea of how to take future steps to aid their mental state. There need to be lessons, seminars, classes, really anything that will make it known to these children and teenagers how they can help themselves with what they don’t understand. No student wants to watch their best friend, or even themselves, get lost to the pain that they’ve hid for years because it’s been seemingly worthless to the staff they’ve grown up with. Something needs to change, because we’re tired of hiding our pain waiting for a solution that schools will never bring to us.
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love
spring 2020
