CHRISTIAN HURTADO
11th GRADE
MY ROOM
I lay my head on the warm bed
Flowing thoughts racing around my head
My room a reflection of me
Wonders filling my eyes at all I can see
The family picture, everyone calm and happy
My little brother’s hair always so nappy
The TV, perfect family, oh it could be
All of them surrounding another boy, me.
That day was like no other
The photo-shoot was arranged by my mother
Everyone, a smile, spread from cheek to cheek
It was the only thing I could seek
I look to my left and see a sign
Stripped off a street post, it was divine
The perfect object to fill the blank space
Van Nest Ave brings a smile to my face
That street sign all battered and beat
My face glistening with sweat from the summer’s heat
A neon trim surrounded its shape
It was the same color as my bedroom drapes
As I look up I see it glued
A little cross sent by a kid from St. Jude’s
It protects me every night
Bestowing all that little kid’s might
That wooden maple oak cross
Was filled with much anguish and loss
A reminder of how blessed I must be
That I didn’t have a battle with cancer ahead of me
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In the corner are my 2 guitar stands
Each caressing my guitars with their hands
Both crafted in the bottom of the ocean
That’s what I tell my friends, face full of emotion
The center is my TV’s dwelling place
On Tuesdays the center for a different court case
Millions of pixels illuminate the screen
A dead pixel stands out, an odd shade of green
My room often referred to as a clothes bomb
But everything is relaxed, so soothing, so calm
The one place where I can really think
A place where you’ll miss something, with just a blink
TO SICKNESS
You tried to come in anyway
Whether through oceans or bays
Through doors, windows, and cracks
You made me not want to turn my back
You went straight for my life
Slicing me with your cold, dark knife
The pain racing deep into my bones
You had made my house your own
The pain and misery like a scythe
As we tied ourselves in an endless strife
Dark and gory thoughts of suicide
Swept me like an ocean’s tide
As my spirit arose closer to the moon
I knew that I would die soon
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