Word Slay Anonymous by NY Writers Coalition

NY Writers Coalition Press

WORD SLAY ANONYMOUS Writing from New Alternatives for LGBT Homeless Youth

N Y W RITERS C OALITION P RESS

W ORD S LAY A NONYMOUS Writing from NY Writers Coalition Workshops at New Alternatives for LGBT Homeless Youth

NY W RITERS C OALITION P RESS F ALL 2015

Copyright ÂŠ 2015 NY Writers Coalition, Inc. ISBN: 978-0-9964012-3-4 Library of Congress Control Number: 2015960269 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Upon publication, copyright to individual works returns to the authors. Editor: Rose Gorman Layout: Anna Pettus, Rose Gorman Title: Anonymous Cover Image: Anna Pettus Interior Images: Lauren Taylor Hudson Word Slay Anonymous contains writing by members of NY Writers Coalition creative writing workshops for youth ages 14-24 at New Alternatives for LGBT Homeless Youth. NY Writers Coalition Press, Inc. 80 Hanson Place, Suite 604 Brooklyn, NY 11217 (718) 398-2883 info@nywriterscoalition.org www.nywriterscoalition.org

C ONTENTS ABOUT NY WRITERS COALITION

A BEAUTIFUL DISASTER

GEER AUSTIN

TARA BROOKS

IVAN CABRERA

JEREMIAH CARTIER

CORDILIA

CHRISTAL DEATHTONE

CHELSEA LEMON-FETZER

BELLA GAMBINO

JAIME SHEARN COAN

JAYMINN HARRISON

JOSEPHINE

KEVIN

MICKEY L.

LOGAN

JONATHAN LOPEZ

SUDAN MCMILLIAN

CHRISTOPHER MEDIA

KIARA LEE SCHETTINI MONTENEGRO

RAMON

ROBIN

COCO SANCHI

KATE SPENCER

TOXIC

VAL

ANONYMOUS WRITING

ACKOWLEDGEMENTS

A BOUT NY W RITERS C OALITION NY Writers Coalition (NYWC) is a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization that creates opportunities for formerly voiceless members of society to be heard through the art of writing. One of the largest community-based writing organizations in the country, we provide free, unique, and powerful creative writing workshops throughout New York City for people from groups that have been historically deprived of voice in our society, including at-risk, disconnected, and LGBTQ youth, homeless and formerly homeless people, those who are incarcerated and formerly incarcerated individuals, war veterans, people living with disabilities, cancer, and other major illnesses, immigrants, seniors, and many others. For more information about NYWC programs and NY Writers Coalition Press publications visit WWW . NYWRI TER SCOALI TION . ORG

WORD SLAY

A BEAUTIFUL DISASTER

Sincerely The end signed: Shnookuh bun Sweety pie Honey bun Fay Fay Mani Doo doo brain Lemon head Apple head Peanut heat Watermelon heat Faith Imani Hobson Birthday May 27, 1984 Address to still be learned

9 Months I have a disease that is called prenatal infantile syndrome. In 4 months (well in 3 months) I will become an infant. I got my virginity back yesterday, and I just finished reliving my puberty all over again. Backwards. I’ll have the cleanest skin but I don’t remember how to drive anymore, so I’m stuck in the house. At least I know that since I’m smaller my food supply lasts a lot longer. I’m doing my chores & the house is clean but the things I used to be able to do I can’t do anymore, like cook. But at least I don’t have 2. I’m satisfied. It was a blast the last few days. I had 362 PB&J’s, 4 BM’s (short for bowel movement) & 2 hits. The mailman came to bring me my SSI check & all I could do was sit in the corner & yell. Mommy told me not to open the door for strangers. Stranger danger, stranger danger. I guess SSI chose direct deposit this month. Sitting on the couch watching The Best of Soul Train 1992. Peace Love & Soul. I woke up this morning and had a crowing for pigtails, so I tried to do my own, but my hair is so darn thick I left it in an Afro puff. I went to the candy store and attempted to buy 79 sugar daddies, 23 lipsticks in every color and still make it home to watch Full House & The Cosby Show. This is the life. This little boy was looking at my diary, but I told him he had cooties. Ewwww.

My Side of the Fence Tears rolling down my face staining my pride as I cried in front of the man that once held my heart, wrapped around his finger he said I was. Wrapped around my neck your hands slowly gripped. I’m losing it. Not only my composure but my life was steadily slipping away as my lungs yearned for air. Calling me ungrateful for wanting better. I’m on the side of the fence where they blow their leaves after they fall off their perfectly manicured trees. And they’re on the side where their daughter has a white fence, white walls, white skin and so alone that the worst thing that ever happened to her was falling off her white pony to get a black eye. I’m going dark, while she’s looking over at me expire. The folly of having 2 sides of the fence, hence my death.

Dear Love, Love, you are a person that I encounter often. Love, you give me grief. Love, I often give you reasons to leave. Love, you always decline. Love, I wish I could see you every day. But, Love, you sometimes let your young take your place. Love, the good side of evil. The white side of black. The positive side of negative. The happy side of sad. Love, you know the girl that loves the streets. You know the girl who was raped and conceived a baby boy who loves his mother. Love calculated, reciprocated, manipulated & diffused in a relationship with 3 but is only supposed to be 1 + 1 which equals 2. Love, you know how I love him, he loves me, you know his infatuation with weed & my hat for his love of that tree. You know my love for his loyalty that needs to be his love for this woman who is still dumb & in my parentsâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; eyes a kid. Just a child of God but a friend of thy love. Love is the ground I walk on, the battlefield called AMERICA. Faithful to Love, From Faith

GEER AUSTIN

I Remember I remember when I fell off my horse onto the gravel driveway and scraped the hell out of my knee when I landed. I remember when Robbie Maidman came into my room and we tried to have sex but he was straight so it didn’t work out. I remember pink cotton candy at the Fireman’s Carnival and the Ferris Wheel that we rode every year. I remember looking forward to this event all winter long until it finally happened in late spring. I remember swimming in the pool and Billie Wright calling me a homo because of the way I dived, and I remember not knowing what a homo was and how Billie pretended she called me a hobo because she didn’t want me to ask my mother the meaning of homo. I remember dressing up as a ghoul for Halloween and painting big black circles around my eyes. I remember eating green McIntosh apples off a tree while I waited for the school bus in the morning.

I remember how my mother couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t bake a pie. I remember when she tried to make grape jelly and it turned into grape soup, and how we all laughed at her. I remember growing my hair long and how my father ordered the barber to cut it off. I remember going to school in the first grade and thinking my teacher Miss Farro was the most beautiful woman in the world. I remember in the third grade that my teacher Mrs. Foster told me I was smart and would be transferred to the smart class in fourth grade. I remember when Lane Schulz cut off her long blond hair and Mrs. Schulz turned it into a hairpiece that Lane refused to wear. I remember when my older sister Liz broke her collarbone while running out of a meadow holding a beer can in her hand. I remember orange, red, gray, green, black and yellow. I remember tomorrow and how it turned out better than I thought it would.

TARA BROOKS

Love is Everywhere Love is a word that comes and goes. When you really know what it means to really love somebody. Love is when your tears may fade away. I’m so glad you always stay cuz I love you, and you show me baby what it really means to love. Take the time to fulfill your mind and everything inside. To find yourself, what you really mean is what I’m willing to see. Love is in the air Love is everywhere Love is in your heart And love is where it starts Can’t you see that you belong with me Take my hand and take a stand Because your wish is my command What does happy, happy, joy, joy mean to you?

IVAN CABRERA

Dear Santa Dear Santa, Hi my name is Tommy, I’m a six year-old-boy which…sucks! I want something spectacular, something that brings a lot of bang for my buck. Something every boy wants or every gay boy wants: I want an Enchanted Vagina. Wait, that word vagina sounds a little bit…hmm…vulgar. I would like to call it a verJJ. Yeah…that sounds better! I want my verJJ to have diamonds…no, no, no, ribbons, along with pink pubic hair. You know the carpet gotta match the drapes, and it has to have a tickle spot. I’ll be fun, and I want it to be wet, really wet. Please, Santa. I know you been denying for six years, but I have something for you. You see, since I found out where the North Pole is, I infiltrated your lair and kidnapped...I mean stole Mrs. Claus. So if you don’t give me what I want, I’ll take something you need. Sincerely Yours, Tommy Straighthorn P.S. It’s my vagina, and I want it now.

JEREMIAH CARTIER

Where Love Belongz Found myself in a darkroom all day hoping this silence would take the pain away cause no one else is here to wipe my tears when they fall But no one hears Jay screaming But these four Walls. So I am calling your name hoping you hear me. Got Both hands on heart praying you feel me, cause Baby I can see you when I close my eyes calling out for u I cant sleep at night. Where Love Belongz

Finding Love Thinking back to the feeling I had when I first seen your face That I knew that it was you So baby please don’t hurt my feelings I’m dissecting these emotions I am abandoned in a shelter Love but can we live it & share these moments? If I can make Time stand still Then I hope I live This moment forever So body stay right here you don’t have to go Baby close that door cause I really Be Missing you I rather Be kissing u there’s nothing I wouldn’t do if I could not share this have this with u. Finding Love

From Far

CORDILIA

Snatched Imagine you’re in a relationship, and she loves you and you love her and you’re not worried about her cheating on you cuz she’s focused on you and only you. You’ve been in a relationship with her for a year and some change, but through all the arguments and all the disagreements, she still loves you and you still love her Now imagine one day you and her make plans to go on a romantic date. Y’all go on this date and after the date the sex is great. In fact, it is so great you don’t know what to do with yourself. In the middle of sex you get up with her on your lap and proceed to hump the pillow instead, but you can’t do that cuz your bleeding blob will get stuck in the fibers. Now imagine you’re walking down the street the next day hand-in-hand cuz now you love her when all of a sudden two giant hands come out of nowhere and clap on her. She is now clapped. A huge smoke cloud now rests where she once resided. You’ve just been mind fucked.

CHRISTAL DEATHTONE

Composure Our life is what we choose To make these bright yet desolate Places which from most People’s perspective don’t Always hold traces nothing, But the pain at times the Sin of wrath is too hard To tame a collision of all that We desire to claim but just Instead isn’t there then Along comes a fear with Each burst of tear wishing In the moments of being Alone that someone would Notice and care but in life A true warrior always holds Their composure not always Seeking closure

CHELSEA LEMON-FETZER

Papers You had some paper that got carried away, forgot it was paper. You had some paper that would have been better off without you. You had some paper that, touched by the struck match, warmed your hands. You had some paper that threw the first punch. You had some paper that only told the death of a pen. You crumpled some paper, blamed it. You dug up the trash for a friendâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s paper. You taped some paper on the wall to remind you. You had some paper that made noise all night; the neighbors didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t complain. You had some paper that stayed empty. You had the last sheet of paper and did not give it away, though you were asked. You wasted some paper. You forgave some paper. You know some paper can take extraordinary weights. You tore this paper into too many pieces for anybody to find out.

BELLA GAMBINO

Dream House She was sleeping peaceful in a pissy rat infested house. Her mother’s boyfriend rarely slept. In fact, he burrowed through to Sammie’s room on a consistent occasion, like the rats did when they wanted to sing her a lullaby by scratching at the walls. “Get up you little bitch,” he growled as his cement hand flew across her smooth seven-year-old face. Awakened from her kingdom of cotton candy clouds and nice kings and queens with beautiful clothes, she instantly soiled her brand new Princess Panties as he ripped them from her shaking flesh. Sammie had been through this before. She covered her eyes as her fragile body hit the floor. He climbed on top, refusing to stop, and Sammie began to talk to God as she sobbed and sobbed. “The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want.” He spread her legs, ramming in her vagina raw. “He layeth me down in

green pastures.” He grabbed her nonexistent breasts. “He protects my soul.” Just like that, he came all over her face, pulled up his pants, and kicked Sammie in her stomach. “God protect me,” she whispered as she drifted back into a dreamlike state. Sammie slept for seven long years, waking up more beautiful than she had ever remembered being. She was hungry but not for food. She threw on some jeans and a ripped tee and strode into the kitchen. He was home. She noticed how old he had gotten, how fragile he had become. She grabbed a knife, strode over to him, and stabbed him in his chest while reciting the Lord’s Prayer. “The Lord is my savior. He lives in my heart.” She lifted the knife one last time. “Amen.” She threw the knife down and lay back in her bed, content with knowing God was on her side.

Party Scene Balloons on the floor. Streamers on the wall. Worst of all, Amber’s losing her virginity. It was only supposed to be Amber plus three of her girlfriends. You see, Tasha, Amber, and Minnie. Woe is she. No condoms, he went in raw knocking down walls like a seesaw up and down, round and round, one after another. Heavy breathing. Dramatic sighs. Silent screams. Get the fuck off of me. Everyone watches in horror. No one will tell or break the spell. Everything’s in slow motion. Rocking back and forth. Semen spewing. No removing the images burned into their heads. I wish you dead. I was supposed to save me, but he … A year later Amber carries a newborn bastard child, life down the drain. Bittersweet, sugar cane, candy rain playing over and over in the background. Stop crying. Stop fucking crying you little shit. Shake. Shake. Shake. Silence. Boom. Blood everywhere. Here all is lost. Nowhere. Homeless life lost all because Amber thought she was boss. Flashback to a time where she was warm and could unwind. Kickback, watch MTV. The Most popular girl in NYC. A loaded gun and the rising sun. Mind black but full of cum because she didn’t spit. She just swallowed. Never leading but always followed. Get on your knees whore n suck my cock. Don’t stop. She cocks the gun. Tears follow ending her life because she became hollow. Sad tomorrow. She got her fifteen minutes of fame. Made the front page. Jane Doe is all that remains.

Untitled I despise an uneducated, bum ass Nigga. Shackles and chains. No brains remain. Drugged up. Nigga, you got me fucked up. Your grocery list goes as follows: (Oops you forgot to swallow Faggot ass Nigga): Mouthwash Toothpaste Deodorant Bodywash. Words lost. Imma always be me. Queen Bee. No showerin ass Nigga. Please don’t take offense. Cause I’m not referring to the color of your skin. Looking deep within you. Suffer from Narcissism. You seem blank like a broken TV. Can’t help that you envy me. Dirty drawls, funky socks inside ya mouth. Looks like chicken pox inside ya side. Spread ya legs. Only ya voice screams n begs. Cause you got fucked royally. My baby spoils me rotten. Skin soft as cotton. Nonjudgmental space but I wanna punch ya high lanky ass in the face. Such a disgrace to the LGBT community. Don’t gasp. Shit ain’t new to me or you. Through the ringer I’ll put you. Aggression none cause, Nigga, I’ve already won.

Schizophrenia I have a secret to tell and I live oh so swell Breasts on the top dick on the bottom I was born with HIV and as a hermaphrodite, you see Woe is me I’ve decide to wage a war on society I must have done something in another life to have karma’s wife doctor said I can take hormones and pick a sex so I look at the box & decide to kick rocks. I’ll be one by Night one by day I’ll infect the whole world causing catastrophic collisions major decisions I’ll be the creator of several new strains looking through stained window Pains the tears fall down Parents abandoned me at an early age filled with rage I was caged & examined Breaking Free I’m filled with ecstasy. Are my thoughts a little rigid Frigid Bitch I’m going to infect you with my Semi hard disk Between my legs virus infiltrated Under Estimated what’s a girl to do? I’m oh so through I know I’ll Be a NON label Gender NON conforming lesbian/slash Bisexual that way no one will have anything to say… Be They don’t judge They only spill & giving Breeders sobriety a clear vision on a new mission Stop fast forward then rewind color blind to your mind False representation equals a stained reputation just like the Panties you wore mother whore is who I adore.

Good Night Moon She lay in a cum blood urine stained mattress sobbing softly at the moon wishing she could be anywhere but here as this heroinsmelling man ripped the brand new Barbie doll panties from her tiny waist. “Mom’s going to be mad,” she hiccupped through the tears. “Shut up bitch and take what your whore of a mother wouldn’t.” Emily didn’t struggle. She didn’t fight or bite. She just howled at the moon. She wouldn’t tell because the last time her mother, the devout crackhead Christian, blacked her eye and then said: “Jesus loves you.” Emily gripped the sheets and counted. It would be over soon. One. Two. Three. He pumped harder shattering her tiny cervix. It had become routine and she immune. He groped her flat chest. Four. Five. Six. His sweat dripped on her tiny face. She rolled on her side, cried and cried, dying inside. “By my rules you’ll abide or I’ll kill your mother.” The moon was Emily’s sanctuary. She heard his belt loosen as she was pulled into reality. “Is he peeing on me? Oh, no. Mom’s going to blame me again.” No tears, Emily gets up and goes to sleep in the closet comforted by her only friend. “Good night moon.”

JAIME SHEARN COAN

Corpus How I thought I was seeing it until I saw it – unfamiliar on someone else’s couch. How I lay on my back with pins stuck to head, hands, feet. How I stilled myself. How I rebelled under the stillness. How I held myself with arms shaking. How I stared directly into the body I feared only to be asked: What do you fear? How I wanted to point, to stab him. How I felt my eyes soften. How the room went watery. How I heard almost a whisper: See your beauty. How I thought I made it up. How I didn’t. How my lover spent the night next to a cardboard box. How the more rigid I become, the closer I am to death. How I was the cardboard box – stacking dreams on top of me. How I suffered, knowing this. How I inclined myself towards the suffering. How I listened hard as anything. How I was living in the future body. How I had given away my home. How I formed a true question and am asking it still. What is more present than the body?

JAYMINN HARRISON

Love/Real Love/Fake Love/Too Much Love Love isn’t supposed to hurt. That’s why I had to make choices For me to make me happy I’m hoping I found Real Love With the person I’m with now. He makes me feel good. But he also Gives me mixed messages.

Art by Laurent Taylor Hudson

JOSEPHINE

Midnight Long lasting, filling the night About the time my imagination takes flight Humble strong, bright and bold A color so powerful no one can hold Pleasuring my senses pleasing my sight The color I refer to is none other than midnight A dark shaded blue, color set just for night To blanket the universe and tuck it in tight

A Beautiful Face There once lived a texel-bang or in the English tongue, a gremlin named Bailey. Bailey was the kindest gremlin there ever was. No one in the gremlin kingdom was as kind as he, and no other as handsome. Though one would consider him beautiful a face without warts and pimples was just repulsing to others.

KEVIN

Deprived Tired, lonely, hungry No place to call his own Deprived A desperate situation When every day is completely different More bad days than good days A mind fuck Last night was a scam Still hurting emotionally All the flakes are so fake

MICKEY L.

Roommate I have a roommate who used to be a true person and a great person to be around but now it seems like since he has a new friend he acts like a messed up friend I mean, are you my friend or are you just using me? Why do I still be your friend even with all the wrong things you do to me?

LOGAN

The Calendar Tells Me The calendar tells me it was spring when he died. And perhaps it was, but all I recall is a nameless vastness, spaces where words and feelings and dreams used to be, and a winter that defied textbook definition. The calendar tells me itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s been seven years since he died. And perhaps it has been, but sometimes I still feel him between the notes of songs we loved back then. Sometimes I still see him in crowded corridors, sometimes I still open doors believing Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll find him, like the past seven years were only a fever dream. The calendar tells me nothing and neither does the season. I measure life by the smell of rain on the breeze, by the kiss of the sun on dry winter flesh, by tears shed and songs sung. I know spring by the withered earth that warms tender its touch, by the children who cast off hoods and sleeves as they cavort under new leaves by this heart of mine that mourns for winter, loved by no one and unappreciated by all. This heart of mine that mourns for winter but still warms to see the gardens grow.

There Are Enough People to Glorify Birth We clasp our hands and squeal with glee when a babe comes squealing and kicking into this world, but should we not weep? In this age of overpopulation, frustration and oppression, in this age of nihilistic abandon should we not weep for this child whose hope of a better world will eventually be trampled like flowers on pavement? We weep and wail and tear at our hair when our loved ones lie waxen and lifeless in the coffin, but should we not rejoice? Should we not send them into their mysterious hereafter with fond remembrance and fair amount of envy â&#x20AC;&#x201D; that our suffering continues, but theirs is done? Keep your spring, your verdant shrines, you fearful ones, you worshippers of this dim imitation of life. Wake me when the leaves again begin to fall.

JONATHAN LOPEZ Mindless Society Confusions to the mind can only be disturbing to your heart when your soul cannot be balanced the way it should. Your soul will shatter because your mind is not working as one with your heart. Your senses are black from the instincts that hold to the world before you. Your life will be tragic in emotional dispute with yourself because you strongly think of other ways to fight with others when the battle is between yourself. You close your ear to your heart so your mind wonâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t make better decisions. You continuously fight for emotional healing To find a better way for peace to not deal with the fact your heart is for you to open up. To hear and feel what your heart feels But you donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t you run, hide do unmistakable things, run from your heart fear that your heart will be shattered the day you open to your heart and let those among you know the person you are. You live in shame, hurt and pain. And that will make your life become more Confusing for your mind to function So your mind gives up And becomes a menace to society

SUDAN MCMILLIAN Untitled There’s a saying that every form of life has a crucial division and only the strongest survive. That is where I come in. My name is Sudan, and I have spent most of life in the hard crucial division where dreams are destroyed, lives remain lifeless, and a child’s nightmares come to life. I’m one of many survivors seeking to reach the impossible. I spend most of my time inside these four walls, where silence is forever and days turn into years. At times I stay in my mind asleep, viewing movies of my past which haunt me. Figures seem distant. Seeing myself young, eyes water from hurt and abandonment. I wake up to a plate of food, meat unseasoned, rice and a side of mixture of vegetables. Hearing someone call my name, I spot no one. My reflection constantly stares from the mirrored steel moves. Today, what is he trying to tell or do to me? No one believes he’s real — he’s me. Lights go out.

Disappointment So disappointed this girl I like has a girlfriend. How stupid I could be. At least I never told her I liked her, but damn I found out on her Facebook page but I couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t tell. Man so dumb, although she would flirt with me. Wow this is why I hate emotional attachment. It always leads to disappointment.

Muse By looking at me, you may never know the struggle Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve been through to get here. The secrets that are skin deep, that are scared to be exposed to the world. The places in which my body has gotten in contact with. The scares that have been of my making into how I appear and walk among you. The richest and poorest memories. These feet have done a lot of walking and still remain beautiful, my voice still sings in communication, my smile which has an innocence of shyness, eyes big wanting more knowledge. Pleasure and pain is my slang which can be shown or hidden from the untrained eye. I am a painting of art.

What I Look Forward To 1. Temporary employment position this December. 2. Birthday this December. 3. Drivers permit and license. 4. Security training. 5. Assistance from programs until I am stable. 6. College by next fall so I can get some things in order. 7. Getting to know myself more and displacement within myself not a bad or depressing thing. 8. Continuing to stay outdoors more. Save on utility bill. 9. Getting involved in more things I like. Still exploring.

CHRISTOPHER MEDIA

Walking Alone It’s time for me to get started walkin through the forest hearing car alarms and dogs barking gettin followed by the devil’s assassin as you’re still trying to figure out what the hell is happening your losing breaths, askin God if you’re next gettin chased by a family of insects massive insects eating your body alive till there’s no flesh screamin, but also believing, that you wish you weren’t feenin I’m only seeing reality for its methodological Dreamin Reporters always supportive for the slaughter that never occurred It’s only a mind therapy as you listen and observe

Final Broadcast It was a cold rainy thunderous night as the lightning flashed against the windows. A group of four decides to visit the forsaken. Mysterious rumours that startle people when they hear them about the house. Driving up a hill tryin to see with hail falling upon the windows and the roof of the vehicle. With the video cameras charged up. Youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re gonna be in for a thrill. Big wooden doors with a shadow watchin from the second floor, scoping out the 1st floor just to see what lies behind this historical landmark thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s brought to you in HD equipment. Flashlights are ready to search. As they hear footsteps from the 2nd floor they proceed to move slowly upstairs walkin down the hall with a glare of light beamin throughout the room and end of the hall.

Did I Forget to Tell You? Caviar, lettuce, tomato and play dough gravy with cream cheese mixed around in potatoes From Blue Hawaiian to Fine dining There’s a moment for silence eating spaghetti and meatballs while the waiters play the violins I know the onions made you cry man choppin up carrots as they’re flyin throughout the fan price choice broccoli is always tight with a rubber band adding grits with eggs, But did I forget the cold ham? Eating sandwiches with beverages from food stamps thermoses that we carry with Hot soup for camp Did I forget to tell you I’m the motherfuckin champ As the house up on the hill continues to get people thinking?

A Party That Turns Into a Living Nightmare Having a party with Alize and Bercada These girls are on the poles getting wild & naughty With the music getting louder with the bass in the speakers It will have you goin crazy from your head to your sneakers With guest performances such as Luda and Justin Bieber As Chris Brown pulls up inna Spider two-seater Then Drake pulls up and he’s carrying his best heater But what’s all of this beef about It’s a war between the Finest as the crowd scream and shouts Then Busta comes through with the Carter as the Drought Knocking heads and throwing blows as these niggas cleared it out

Witness Witnessing a daily change from everybodyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s character There was always a lot of struggle, but deep down inside I ainâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t mad at cha A positive roll model with always influence the young ones

Fortune Imma teller reading the most mysterious minds Rewind the time and you will find your valuest rhymes Teaching the blind and encouraging the wise Discovering your path without a compass or a guide Decisions will fall into place before the wake of sunrise.

Reign Relaxing and always macking while the money keeps stacking millions are being invested from prophecy I’ve always had man picking roses from the field, and giving them to your girl To let her know that she’s beautiful and you admire her in your world Diamonds and crystals that are engraved into the crown Just Focus on your opportunity and your wishes will be found They say I’m nicer than the opera That’s why I’m sacred like the Phantom Bleeding eyes are always hearing from A quality standard walking

Untitled Sickly that it occurred for Whitney instead of Ricky I’m bringin old school characters back like Mickey. Hardcore fantasies about a thousand girls licking me As your trapped in the room with bolted windows and giant centipedes Hungry as hell with no money for the vending machines

Untitled Dream catchin, without the dog catchin How my Flow is always mentioned What’s reality’s intention Non-incarcerated without being Jail sentenced It’s the remix featuring Tony Bennett Acting on a part when you were Never in it I’m never finished

The Detective A detective by the name of Mr. Media tries to find answers to these hospital situations that are occurring excessively. Guy goes by the name of John Staten formally known as A.K.A. Jigsaw; a telling spruce that has hit its mark ever since the year of 1967. He torched the life of a person for the horrible mistakes that theyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve made in the past, as a series of killings continue to emerge. SWAT is continuously moving in on this building, but canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t find the sequel for how this is still continuing until Detective Media makes it his duty along with two other officers to see if they can finally crack this case and to reveal everything to the Federal Bureau of its Investigation Department. Putting marks and numbers next to every clue as possible.

KIARA LEE SCHETTINI MONTENEGRO

A Quien Pueda Interesar A quien pueda interesarle mi nombre es Kiara Lee. Tengo 20 años. Soy realmente de Puerto Rico pero llevo viviendo aquí casi un mes. Que puedo decir de esta ciudad, me encanta pero a veces me siento sola. Hasta a veces ocurren situaciones en que yo pienso que no voy a lograr pero la esperanza de salir hacia adelante es lo que me hace permanecer luchando por llegar hacer una transexual. No niego que extraño mi vida en los caminos de Dios. Lo extraño todo no sé si esto que hago me llevara a lo que quiero pero no puedo hacer más nada. Solo pedirle a Dios que tenga mucha misericordia de mí.

RAMÓN

Weight Lost Pete decides to go on a diet. His goal was to lose 25 pounds. Then Pete becomes obsessed with dieting. Then Pete met his goal but continued to diet. The more weight Pete lost, the happier he became. But now Pete lies on his death bed of starvation. Pete has not eaten a real meal for three years. All his wife can say is Pete lost his life in the search for perfection. See, Pete had weight issues all his life. Pete felt unloved when people called him a pig, and children would run and yell down the street “Oh no! That man gonna eat me!” as Pete walked down the street. Pete was unhappy, causing him to diet. Maybe if Pete realized his wife loved him he would have never went on that killer diet.

Ramón Real Active Mature Odd Nice My name is Ramón. That is my name because I’m real active with a mature side. I can be a little odd at times, but I’m overall a nice person. These characteristics make me who I am, so if you can’t respect me, it’s best to stay out of my way.

ROBIN Santa’s Helper Tina could not stand the cold, but this gig beat the hell out of the stroll on Santa Monica Boulevard. Her candy cane red nails glittered as she mixed the Glenlivet with lime, lemon and a splash of bourbon. Who knew that Santa actually existed, and that he was an alcoholic no less! Truth be told, the elves did all of the work so it didn’t matter how smashed old Chris Cringle got until it was time to pilot the sleigh. Christmas night there was a holiday party at the bank for the employees of Goldman Sachs. Everyone was thinking about being somewhere else and not about the gifts for their Secret Santa. Little did they know… Santa and Tina entered through the back. It took a while to get the presents through the sealed access door, but they managed. The distinct metallic sliding sound and click of a bullet sliding into the firing chamber stopped them in their tracks. “What the fuck are you doing?” asked the security guard. They froze. Tina had an idea… As Santa secretly placed 79 units of the new iPhone with printing under the tree, the employees of Goldman Sachs drank themselves silly and sexually harassed each other. Santa chuckled at the thought of sexual harassment among burglars, especially considering Tina’s predicament. She was out back kneeling in front of the security guard. He had not believed that Santa was actually visiting, but a pair of swollen red lips and able hands had been enough to make him neglect his duty. Merry Christmas indeed.

COCO SANCHI How I Look Pretty One Day Me talk pretty one day and walk pretty another but me no look pretty cuz muva say I slow, I dum. Muva say I can’t have job in New York cuz jobs not for retards. My name is Mar Mar. That’s short for down sinder. But that’s what daddy call me. I his sweet heart but fuck that daddy not here no more. Daddy got killed in gun fight. Mama say somebody other daddy kill my daddy cuz he touch they child. My best friend name is Bemo and he retarded too. He pee pee on hiself and he speak funny but he cool. His bully name is Sleepy Sam. He fat and he stink. I think he shit on hiself or something. Muver tell me not to hang out with Bemo cuz he a chink, whatever that is I say. If he a chink then I a chink too cuz we both retarded and I like people like me. I get up in the morning and have to feed cat. His name is Juke and he gay. He always say I stick my stick into your eye. I think I like cat cuz he have a huge ass and he tall very tall. I tell him every day one day I gon look pretty. One day I won’t be retarded. One day my eye gon get fix and it not be fucked up no more. But right now my face fucked up cuz muvah hit me with a baseball bat but I no tell no one cuz I luv muver but sometime I hate her but I can’t be without her bullshit.

A Crackhead God OK so I’m lucky, so lucky that I’m unhappy in my lucky watchfulness of God. You see there was this girl who shall remain nameless. Y’all know who she is, short, black, no teeth. OK I’ve said too much anyway…God love her, yeah he sure loves her in fact he loves her so much he gave this bitch a house, no, no an apartment, money in her pockets — wait not just money 365 ways to get money. Mmhm, this bitch has so much money she can buy her friends. Hey, World it’s me again. Black, beautiful and confused as ever. You see I work for God “Haha!!” and by that I don’t mean I’m a minister, reverend, pastor or deacon. I’m just an ordinary human being. Well, I am an Andromedian but that’s another story for another day. Anyway, I help take care of God’s people and by his people I don’t mean holy people, I mean the ones she decided to give birth to and leave for dead. That overbreeding, child-bearing rabbit of a bitch, she needs to stop creating so many people if she’s gonna love some over others. Anyway this high holy bitch decided to put these monstrosities of gay children in the world and leave them. Now I have to care for them and do I get anything? Hell No, I get beat, verbally bashed, emotionally neglected and used. Yeah I also get setup so I have some choice words for that bitch. If this is luck, fuck you God.

Dear God This is your servant Coco. I’ve been taking care of your homosexual kids that your crackheaded prostituting ass chose to leave behind. I get them and I’m just wanting to know when do you plan on taking responsibility. I’m getting verbally abused, emotionally abused and financially abused and I‘m sick of your sick shit so I’m giving you an ultimatum. If you don’t give me a break and pay me any due I will get me a gun and kill off every last one of your children gay and straight, black and white, excluding myself.

KATE SPENCER

In and Out My heart had fever when I was eight Broke down two doors The sloshing of blood goes both ways now Just like me; just like my love Maybe I’ll repair the doors someday to make my heart more strong But I’ll always swing in and out So watch yourself

Imagine The crime was “theft by deception” I grabbed the backpack, frame pack, whatever, royal blue and went to the register at L.L. Bean, asking the woman for a bag. “Where’s your purple tag?” she asked. “They forgot to give me one, I guess,” I answered nonchalantly. “They wouldn’t forget,” she said suspiciously. “Let me call them and get you a tag, then you can pay and get outta here.” “I paid already,” I protested. “Ok, where’s your receipt?” she asked. “I threw it out or lost it or something.” “There are 4,000 cameras in this store,” the cashier said. “You’re screwed.” The security officer kindly tapped me on my shoulder and said “Come with me and everything will be alright.” Driving me home my mom said to me, “Some people live in the material world where there are possessions. Most people anyway. So you have to play by their rules because they make the laws. OK? You can ‘Imagine no possessions’ but I don’t want to pick you up from any more stores with you having ink on your thumbs. End of story.” My mother patted me on the shoulder.

TOXIC

Eat Me Sober I sit in this room all torn apart with many colored eggs piercing my heart, a black fluffy bunny with pink bulging eye nibbles and gnaws at my fingertips like a candy bar as I wonder will this nightmare end but I know it wonâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t because for this to happen someone must first have a heart.

VAL

She She was beautiful to me when I first saw her, her eyes her shape, her waist, her face. the realness of her self much Me Welcome and it felt likehome, besides that, I think she hot She has a pretty smile and good humor. Nice body but big ass head “lol” I guess God Make people the way they are. You shouldn’t change for Nothing, but there is nothing Wrong Upgrading Yourself. Everybody is beautiful in their own Special way.

Untitled My name is Valerie. I’m originally from New Jersey, but have been living out here in Staten Island for 5 months now. I’ve been through a lot but I believe you have to crawl before you walk. Basically I’m just trying start a new life — and path. As for work, just stacking paper to get my own. I enjoyed my day today and went to Church again for the first time and can truly say I was happy. And blessed. Today is a new beginning for Me.

Freaky Day Today had to be the freakiest day of my life. While I was sitting in the Port Authority bus terminal charging my phone some random Homeless man walked past me and extended his hand for a hand shake. I just ignored him. Then he came to me again and extended his hand to me again and saying “Yo, you a good man.” I reluctantly extended my hand to shake. Then the man sat across from me and started bugging up.

ANONYMOUS

Zingz “After all, you’re my wonderwall…” “Boy, what the hell is wrong with you?” “Can’t you see I’m trying to serenade you?” “Don’t quit your day job.” “Ex-squeeze me? Are you tryna say I can’t sing?” “For God’s sake I can’t sing either, no big deal.” “God ain’t got nothin’ to do with dis and I can so sing!” “How you figure?” “I was in the school choir, so take that!” “Just because your music teacher didn’t check to see if you could sing before letting you in—” “Kurt Cobain can’t sing either! Hmph.” “Leave him alone! He just has a…different kinda voice.” “Me too!” “No honey, just stick to poetry.” “Oh, so you, you like…my…” “Poetry, yes. I read some of it last night.” “Question. How did you find that? I hid it…” “Read my lips: you can’t hide things to save your life.” “So, you got me. I write stupid poems in my free time. You won’t…” “Tell nobody? Naw, I won’t tell. Just don’t go singing at the top of your damn lungs any more, hear?” “Understood, General Hardass.” “Very funny, now go get the broom.” “What? Why?” “You broke my good china with your screech ass voice”

Olly Olly was a weird kid always getting picked on. So one day he dumped a vat of acid on the whole town. And went on with his life doing the same thing in every place he went to. LOL. THE END Oh and by the way, the moral of the story is Don’t fuck with the weird kid. …It’s me.

The Wordslayer She tells me that she fell in love with me because I am a storyteller. Oh, surely that wasn’t the only reason — surely there is something else to me, some other value, but is that truly certain? The fact of the matter is I am many things as are we all — we are all universes in minutiae, a cosmos unto ourselves — but the only identity that gives me any measure of satisfaction is that of the wordslayer, the storyteller, the weaver of tales and maker of worlds. Maybe the story I must weave now is my own. A page of sorrow, a rendition of redemption, Eddie Dean staring down his own dark tower with his Susannah by his side.

How Do I Let Him Go I thought she was elated to be around me. She sounded happy but she was just hiding her pain. Yesterday I got a phone call from my big sister Penelope telling me that she saw my husband tonguing another girl. I tried my best not to get upset but inside a storm was brewing. I could feel the storm clouds gathering in the back of my mind. A knife storm was about to happen. I calmly said “It’s okay if he finds happiness in someone else. I just hope that person is willing to take him in when I move out.” Just hearing myself say that sparked a streak of lightning across my mind. I felt the jolt of burning anger and pursed my lips shut to stop myself from exploding. I took a deep breath but the clouds were getting thicker and thicker. I looked over at Penelope who was staring a fixated stare of concentration just waiting for something. I knew something was going to happen because the image of him and Kadija kissing kept playing over and over in my head. The lightning flashed again and again. I walked into my room and picked up my daughter from her bassinet and put her on the bed to change her diaper. “Are you okay?” Penelope asked me in a soft voice. “Umhm,” I said not making eye contact. Inside I was far from ok. The storm was going to happen, my husband is no longer mine. Then he came to the daycare and everything was odd. How do I let him know that I know he’s sleeping around. But then Penelope could be lying, let’s hope she’s lying. Because he’s not lying or maybe I’m just in denial of the obvious. The air is silent, so silent that the silence is deafening. He’s happier with her more than he is with me. How do l let him go.

Why Must We Police the World? Why must we set so many limits to the basic need of a human’s life? What are we debating when there are things our nation has printed so clearly? “Is the right of our country to control the development of a human being with telling them you are an outcast cause?” If you can try to ask yourself these questions here is the answer. It is the lack of willingness to get past personal views and accept the growth that our generations are molding. And I talk about the new and later generations on the way. You cannot hope that a teacher can teach without being tough him or herself. When we allow a non-tough teacher to step into a classroom we have help to hope that many young people had a lot. You are welcome.

What Am I Scared Of? What am I scared of? You? Me? Disease, The future, my skeletons Giving up and going out with him Again Going through it another time Scared of getting hooked Pleasure Getting lost Murder, by you, by me Forever in prison Scared yet anxious for suicide Cuz I know itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s just a matter of time Never knowing? + Dishonesty So basically Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m scared of you.

Routine Starting this very happy at 5am looking in the mirror just talking to myself and saying rise and shine sunshine. Taking a relaxing shower like for 28 minutes. Save me enough energy to start one rainy morning. Loving myself thinking how the makeup of my eyes be intact. Nothing much right now drinking trying to focus on what’s going on around me. What’s in my mind can’t understand it. Something is wrong. I’m looking forward fixing. Not doing an effort just waiting for the right time that destiny has planned for me. I just thank the universe.

Where to Start Every day it rain A sad Prince I am Fallin away heartbroken from the last time walk away Damn my soul cried as I watched Diamonds in her eyes turn to dust Her heart turned old and died Fast to love, fast that love ran away She cried quiet music cuz I left her Heart to rot she used to be happy Like a Pink Rose now she dead like The music that’s quiet she will never let No one in she hoard like a turtle her pain Bleeds like the Red Sea for her No turning back cuz the way men hurt Her especially me I grow Death upon my Heart cuz the way I made the Queen Feel I was silly to loser her cuz her love Was better than gold more than riches I’ll never know where to start Love, I don’t know where to start.

It Wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t Me Sex. She the best at it Bang, bang, on the wall Screaming my name Joseph, Joseph, O Joseph you so big I burst, she burst we kiss for hours Mmm, mmm, saliva all over her lips She love it, I love it Honey Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m home, scared he walked in What the fxxx he pull out from The closet click, click I tried to Hide bang, bang us both Why did I occupy a married woman Vagina in the first place dom ha, ha, ha Cop

Matthew His deep dark brown eyes looked at me. My first judgment was he is so shady. This homo thinks he is the shit. See I was the one who wanted the spotlight and he was taking it away so he became a target, my target. His name was Matt. The foster home we lived in was in Brooklyn but school was in Manhattan. 4th period lunch I would see Matt standing in the hallway looking at me but as I glanced back he would turn his head. In due time, I told myself that I would walk up to him and ask why are you looking at me? 4th period May 3rd, 2011 I walked up to him and instead our lips made a burst of energy flow through the cafĂŠ. This is when I know the things people go through in a world of happenings. My boyfriend was an orphan and I was too. Matthew I really, really love you.

3 Things I Will Give to My Nephew For His 7th Birthday 1. 2. 3.

I would like to buy him a Buzz Lightyear suit Give him a picture of me buying the present Send him a letter telling him how much I love him and how proud I am. Give him beautiful advice: Say that whatever he decides to be in his age start learning it and to follow his dreams and be brave!

I Don’t Care What They Say Car horns blow on the cold December Day, people think I’m mad cause I don’t get my way, but I don’t care what they Say cause Imma do Me at the end Of the day

A CKNOWLEDGEMENTS As a small, grassroots organization, NY Writers Coalition relies on the generous support of those dedicated to getting the voices of those who have been silenced heard. Many thanks go to our foundation, government, and corporate supporters, without whom this writing community and publication would not exist: Allianz GI, Amazon Literary Partnership, the Bay and Paul Foundations, Brooklyn Community Foundation, the Kalliopeia Foundation, the National Endowment for the Arts, the New York City Department of Cultural Affairs, the Nicholas B. Ottaway Foundation, the Pinkerton Foundation, the Tiger Baron Foundation, and the Two West Foundation. NYWC programming is also made possible by the New York State Council on the Arts with the support of Governor Andrew Cuomo and the New York State Legislature. We rely heavily on the support of individual NYWC members and attendees of our annual WriteA-Thon. In addition, members of our Board of Directors have kept this vital, rewarding work going year after year: Louise Crawford, Marian Fontana, Sandy Huang, Matthew Krejcarek, Lisa Smith, Jonathan Tasini, and NYWC Founder and Executive Director Aaron Zimmerman.

NY Writers Coalition Press

WORD SLAY ANONYMOUS Writing from New Alternatives for LGBT Homeless Youth NY Writers Coalition Press is proud to present Word Slay Anonymous: Writing from New Alternatives for LGBT Homeless Youth, a collection of poetry and prose from NYWC creative writing workshops for young writers in New York City. Featuring writing from A Beautiful Disaster, Geer Austin, Tara Brooks, Ivan Cabrera, Jeremiah Cartier, Cordilia, Christal Deathtone, Chelsea Lemon-Fetzer, Bella Gambino, Jaime Shearn Coan, Jayminn Harrison, Josephine, Kevin, Mickey L., Logan, Jonathan Lopez, Sudan McMillian, Christopher Media, Kiara Lee Schettini Montenegro, Ramon, Robin, Coco Sanchi, Kate Spencer, and Val. Learn more about NYWC Programs and NYWC Press at www.nywriterscoalition.org.

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