Kyra Horton

clouded
how do i find a mind scattered in pieces around a city?
been losing my head since the day i got here.
lost
but as close to heaven that i’ve been a while
how do i fix a life that feels so perfect?
mend a heart that isn’t broken, but isn’t beating anymore
the line between euphoria and self-destruction is too thin for me
i cross it often
i can’t think straight most days
my thoughts take over every waking moment until i exist in reality only in waves
not sure what reality is most days
most days i dance until my feet blister
other days i cry until there are no tears left
maybe the never-ending sun beaming has something to do with my emotions existing only in extremes
clouded
the city where there’s so much magic you forget to breathe
so much beauty you forget not to stare in the sun
so much opportunity you forget who you are
there are no homes here
just rooms filled with aspiration
corners plagued by desperation
studios filled with hope
hearts filled with longing
i don’t belong here
my heart can’t survive here
i want to go home
not sure home exists anymore
i gave it all up for la
for a shot at my dreams like the millions of others feigns itching to make it out
lost
the city where inspiration fills your lungs with every breath
the city where i found myself yet still feel
lost

Kyra Horton is a twenty-year old creator. Whether expressing herself through writing, performing, or painting, she strives to turn pain into beauty. Her identity as a young Black woman from Chicago shapes her work. She grew up being inspired by activism and solidarity in her community and the arts. Kyra is fearless in the avenues she seeks in order to create the emotions painted in her heart. The world is Kyra’s canvas, as well as her muse. Her primary medium of creativity is spoken word poetry. Kyra has performed at over 50 different events since beginning her poetry career 5 years ago. Kyra published her first poetry book called Cries of a Butterfly, wrote and produced her album of poetry called The Silencer, released an EP of poetry called Tears Of Gold, and published poetry for the Gate Newspaper and the nonprofit organization Sixty Inches From Center. She has led writing workshops as well as participated in journalism cohorts to cultivate her skills.

Helping my grandma take down Christmas decorations,
I help her sit and grab water as she places a soft hand
Over her heart. On the drive down, we are reminded
How we need to keep her in good spirits,
How we need her alive. When we arrive, I hug
Her extra long. I let go- I can tell she’s in pain.
I try to be good.

I try and sometimes I’m enough, usually adequate.
Someone is almost always better. So- I love my grandma
The most and hold her the longest and let her teach
me to play cards while everyone is sleeping.

She tells me how she was a hand model
and Miss Air Force Runner-up. How my mom
was trouble from the time she was born.
She tells me my soul felt familiar the minute
we met. She’d rock me all night,
but I’d stay awake, exploring and watching.
Now I am tired.

She can’t walk upstairs to her bed anymore.
She didn’t tell me this, but I can see.
The couch she sleeps on has a texture-smooth
and slightly tacky from her hairspray. I hate animal
Documentaries but she doesn’t know this. We watch
Them together most nights. My head is getting too heavy

For her lap. She doesn’t tell me this, but I can tell
By the way she inhales sharply when I’m drifting off
To sleep. So, with our mostly quiet bodies we watch-

The sunset over the Sahara and penguins shuffling
In their circles. She cries when elephants are born.
The African Bush elephant carries the calf for two
Years, and when it’s time for things to be undone,
They fall apart. And we weep.

Lucy Somers is a Midwestern poet who is deeply inspired by her natural surroundings and familial bonds. Common themes in her work are: grief, connection, and coming of age.

I wonder
If there is a place
Where all our
lost
memories escape to.
A secret sanctuary we can never find.
I wonder
If the memories creep from our minds
In the middle of the night,
So silent that we do not
Even remember they were ever
Ours.
I wonder if they float through the bright blue sky
and whisper to us from up above,
Hoping we will notice them,
Hoping we will claim them
Before they
Vanish
to their
Secret sanctuary.

Liliana Colon is a twenty-year-old mentee in the Writing Works Program through Girls Write Now. She is from New York City and is currently taking a gap year from college to better explore her passions. She entered and was one of the winners of the My Simple Realization writing contest for her personal essay entitled “Sheltered.” Her poem “Soil” will be included in the sixth annual online spring issue of Girls Right the World. Liliana is looking forward to new opportunities for growing and cultivating her love of writing.