Metamorphosis
Embedded Files
“In Between”
By Anonymous
Are the worst parts of my days.
I am by myself
Surrounded by strangers
People like me
Some random teenagers
Trying to find their way
Trying to survive their day
In between
I want to be seen.
I want to be loved,
I want to be hugged,
And be told everything will be alright.
In between
I am unseen
I am unloved
And nothing is alright.
In between
I feel the dopamine draining away
And nothing I do ever makes it stay
In between nothing is real
And it’s impossible for me to feel
I am numb
even if nothing has been done
and for that I feel dumb.
In between is what got me thinking
why bother when death is inevitable?
why are we friends?
are we really friends?
do you hate me?
do you feel bad?
I want to feel in between
But I got nothing
I can’t cry
I can’t scream
I can’t fight
not anymore.
In between.
“First Trip to Boston”
By Mackenzie McManus
By Jefflyn Sahn
A lot of people believe in the theory of evolution
I think of a butterfly
in July unraveling itself from within
into a new perspective of life
A life with glee within beautiful trees and hues of brilliant green leaves
a life full of what seems ideal
Metamorphosis?
I think of a gloomy student not knowing what day it is or rather what x is of a problem
It is futile they think
Useless information
Maybe so
But the more you will know
I think of a dying character losing hope as they slowly meet their demise
Fighting with every breath
Nevertheless, the news is the same thing
I think of a dark sky with no stars a night with no sight
a light that burns and burns throughout the entire night
But nothing is ever worth a million words than a painting
I think of a lone star
Using every spark of dust it can muster
A cluster of words that will never make sense
A foreign language to my own
I am confused
Alone
Scared
Unaware of change
I do not want to change
I cannot change
I have to change
Change is inevitable
I hate the unknown
What waits beyond the other side of the tunnel
What awaits my future, my unknown, me alone?
I
Don't
Want
Change
But change picks me, you, you, and you
- Anonymous
“Starry Night”
By Cenaiya Jackson
I looked up to the stars
A perfect stary night
The sight of tranquil stars
Leave me still almost crying
I look at the same sky
Nothing to be found
Lying almost lifeless
on the frigid ground
The once stary night
was nowhere to be found
But growing into a fearsome storm
The once stary night was now gone
“Firefly Prints”
By Caitlyn Harrington
“Ultramarine”
By Vivian Nguyen
Ultramarine glowed against my skin. During one winter many years ago, I visited the aquarium with my mother and my little sister, who we dragged around in a stroller. In my vivid memory, a jellyfish swayed to the side with its tendrils floating like translucent strips of ribbons. Only a sheet of glass separated its aquatic world from the land of deep blue carpet and crowds of families ascending in swarms around the towering and illuminated tank. The hypnotizing beauty ensnared my attention. Nothing mattered to me but to climb and climb the inclined path alongside my family as though the height of the waters was endless. The magic of being small meant that the world was vast, and all I needed to do was explore it all.
When I returned, the majesty of the grand tanks shrunk. The bustling ambiance of excited children died away. The same tank with the same proportions awaited me, but the thrum of exhilaration that once filled my heart left a hollow cavity where joy and innocence once hid. Height warped my perception. I was taller and wiser, but I thought I still held that childlike delight. Perhaps I’d seen too many fish that it wasn’t wondrous any longer. As I watched the jellyfish again, I even felt sad that it would never go anywhere but within the confines of its tank. I almost believed that we weren’t much different. The jellyfish and I lingered together before we parted ways; it would continue to float, and I would walk into my unknown future.
I left the aquarium alongside my family and quietly observed the same ocean waves lapping against the concrete walls by the pier. As a child, I was carefree and curious, but as a teenage girl, I was acutely aware that I had paid to see fish swim. My blunt thought process had destroyed the magic of an experience I treasured. I was stunned by regret, wondering why I returned to a place that belonged untouched and protected in the precious cabinets of my childhood.
By Kamilla Magalhaes
By Kahley Pina
“Butterfly Prints”
By Michaela Duquette
“Childhood Delights”
By Kylee Mann, Emma Rhadbane, Gabriella Persichini and Nola Finn
I
Playing in the uncut, wild grass
While a gleaming smile stretches
Across my face
And a slight breeze
Past my skin
II
Laughter
Until smiling faces and stomachs
ached with joy
III
The smell spread throughout the house
Freshly baked bread
My grandma and I working hand in hand
The timer beeped
Our masterpiece is finally complete
IV
Jumping in the pool
While my family watched me
And the sun set
V
Waking up at dawn on the 25th
I run down the stairs
Catching a glimpse of the chilly December morning
VI
The cold air grazed my back
as I was preparing to sled down the tall
white hill of snow
VII
Hand in hand
Walking
Down the hall
Across the street
Up the stairs
A journey
feeling more like an adventure
VIII
Going out with my friends
Wasting the day away
While I only hope
For many better days
IX
I walk out of school;
It’s late afternoon
Walking home on the street
Giddy for the weekend
X
Sitting on the beach with your blanket wrapped around
It’s the Fourth
The happiness of summer finally setting in
with each crack of a firework
XI
Peeking through the glass windows
Spending money like we have any
Carefree
XII
Walking down the plain halls
In hope for a familiar individual
Suddenly looking up
Seeing a rather neighborly face
XIII
As I walk across the stage
An inviting hand meets mine
Returning to my seat, I’m filled with pride
Together, we toss our caps in joy
“Cherries”
By Ben Willis
Dressed in a tank top and gym shorts, Kara sat on the floor with her back adjacent to the kitchen counter. The tap was running while she was counting in her head, feeling the numbers manifest themselves down to her waist.
The room was only illuminated by moonlight and the digital clock displaying ‘11:16’ over the stovetop. She couldn’t think; she could only count. Kara hated this. Miraculously, she harnessed the energy to bring herself to her feet and put a temporary end to her desperate counting, similar to that of an insomniac counting sheep. Trudging into the nearby bathroom, Kara flicked on the light and stared directly into the mirror, being met with her weak, cerulean gaze.
All she wanted to know was why she was back here again. The year she believed she was free just ended up being a perfect illusion. Being sixteen is cruel, and brutality has no bounds. She ran her palms down the sides of her torso, feeling her figure. It disgusted her. The pain was much greater than it was two years ago. Losing weight was her only obsession. Every trip to the mirror, Kara always made contact with the same thoughts. Most taunting of all, she knew she couldn’t keep living like this, but she sees no way out. What she sees is not her.
Dawn came unexpectedly… again. Kara awoke on the couch, realizing she fell asleep unintentionally for the sixth night in a row. Like the rest of the week, it was early and nobody was home. Despite not typically caring for her parents’ company, she felt so lonely. Her head was clouded with so many negative feelings and she did not know how to cope.
Worst of all, her body is running her everyday life. With Kara’s obsession failing to die, it’s plaguing her enjoyment of the things she used to like. Everything felt different, and happiness only felt more and more rare with each passing day.
This was it. She knew her BMI was healthy, but kept feeling worse and worse that her image did not match those of Victoria Secret models. As long as she did something to occupy her mind, it could help. Kara could leave the fight without changing overnight.
Recalling the cursed year of 2020, she remembered a fitness icon everyone looked up to. Her friends were always engaged with the workouts, which she ended up passing on. Now, full of regret, she was finally ready to give it a try. As much as she disliked guided workouts, what is the worst thing that could happen? This could be tying up a loose end to becoming whole again.
“Being home alone has its advantages,” Kara mumbled to herself, picking up the TV remote. A few moves on the clicker and she was able to navigate to the supposed ‘goddess of fitness’ that was barely talked about anymore. With nothing to lose, she picked a random video and gave it a go.
For the first time in forever, the vibrations of Kara’s cell phone were not distracting. Not only was she engaged, but she was full-on addicted. She got the hang of the movements right away, and felt the energy to go on forever without stopping to replenish her energy. The day ticked by, and she couldn’t be happier.
After about an hour, she stopped for a quick break. Sweat was breaking at her hairline, which she wiped with the back of her wrist. Even if she was slipping into a mess of odor for the time being, she felt more fresh than ever.
Kara returned to the mirror. She was accustomed to its feelings matching the darkness of the night, but with the morning sun breaking through the window, only positivity arrived. Kara smiled. Turning to the side, she spoke softly to herself. “Even if I can’t be like them, I can be happy.”
The last thing left on her mind to cure at the moment was hunger. Aside from being off school and the beautiful weather, Kara’s favorite part about summer was her favorite fruit being in season. Opening the refrigerator, she grabbed a bag of cherries and put only a select few into a bowl. She sat down at the kitchen counter. With a small dive into something new, she could feel a change. As long as she maintained this energy, she knew she could find peace once again.
Collage Poems
Collage poems are a form of creative writing that takes short phrases and words from a larger text and rearranges them into a new piece of media, in order to capture an existential tone. The following poems were created by students of Mr. Bigsby, inspired by the text Metamorphosis by Frans Kafka
“Events”
By Driana Flemings
Grief, Shame, and Imprisonment
From madman to MONSTER
Still no F R E E D O M
Release me from this torment
Free me from this Sorrow
Mother falls with terror
In her EyEs
And when sister comes
I shall fall into disguise
This Transformation
This metamorphosis
Keeps me still and stiff
As I lay on my Death bed
Making every last wish
The embarrassment is
Suffocating
I try to stay content
With my situation
But there was no magic in such
Incantation.
“Existentially Debilitated”
By Kathleen Quinn
My unfortunate boy.
A little useless.
Lying lazily at the same spot,
Ruled the bare walls all alone.
Senseless crawling,
Completely barricaded.
Given up all hope,
Hot with shame and grief,
Forgetting his human past,
Leaving him to his own devices.
They were suffering enough as it was,
A state of total despair,
Unsuccessful life.
Now there wasn’t a sound,
It was dark,
No special feeling of warmth,
Monotony of family life,
We’re to come to a horrible end.
“Bug Prints”
By Meghan Hailer
“Desperation"
By Hannah Ivil
D
R
A
G
G
E
D
along lifelessly
Tormented by self reproaches and worry
He had to be satisfied
By FORCE
Cope
Only a minor torment
Depriving him of everything that he loved
Sight of him was still repulsive
Forgetting his human past
Tauntening scar
Abandoned
Over and over again
Whose existence
Might disappear
Corrosive medicine
“The Meeting”
By Elias Carbone
Gregor waited in vain,
Hot with shame and grief,
Almost with repulsion.
Opened the door again… as if visiting someone seriously ill or perhaps a stranger
The sight of him was still repulsive to her
(She grew silent)
Gregor awoke from his deep, comalike sleep
Furious and glad
The first pleasant news Gregor had heard since his imprisonment
No one probably wanted to stay home alone
As it was, it caused him pain.
It was a miracle that only one had been guilty of some outrage.
“When he comes back to us”
Pleading for Gregor’s life, hardworking and unsuccessful.
“Less sensitive?”
He was on the verge of forgetting
Made them lapse into silence
Header Art by Armani Vasquez
Cover Image Butterfly Print by Michaela Duquette
***
Published December 20th, 2023
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