Do You Know What It’s Like?

A car that’s not that far away,
It’s just another sunny day,
Music in both ears and a spring in step
A walk that’s made with happy pep

Smile bright,
Step light,
No threat in sight,
No thought of flight,

A headline here,
A story there,
Reports made in fear,
Now we beware

A car that feels so far away,
Headlines, protests, every campaign,
The story of a friend made prey,
Of daily walks that end in pain

Smile bright turned smile tight, 
Oh so polite, 
Bodies close, feeling small,
Til even thin smile isn’t there at all

One state’s risks we learn and know, 
From numbers in past years gone by,
Of one hundred thousand hopes to grow,
Three hundred voices will yearly cry

Look left, look right,
Ears free of any distraction,
Metal keys gripped tight,
Can we call it overreaction?

Attempts made, attacks started,
hear the news, gone cold-hearted
Smiles bright, still under twenty-five,
Tomorrow’s report has now gone live,

Cases in the news today,
Yesterday, yesteryear, 
Three hundred yearly truths laid bare,
These next truths could be anywhere

Growing pressure on our smallest choices,
A question asked by many voices,
An experience on the weekly radar,
“Do you know what it feels like to hurry in the dark to your car?”

Smile bright a year before,
Smiling tight forever more,
Keys in hand and music off,
Headlines made that music stop

 

Written and Photographed by Olivia Walters

Olivia Walters is a Psychology major at Sierra College with a curiosity in Journalism. She hails from Georgetown. In fall 2022, she plans to pursue her major in forensic Psychology at Sacramento State University. Her interest areas include creative writing, studying astronomy, and music.

The Void

Black rock cliff by stormy sea

A hole
Black as the void
Bottomless as the night sky
Center of a man
Ripped out, left to die

A raging sea
Eroding the land
That makes the existence, of this weary man
As edges crumble, and walls fall away
He trudges ever onward, to face another day

An endless cycle
Stand up and lay down
Trying endlessly not to fall to the ground
Not to break, not to crack, not to scream or stamp
Trudging onward, ever onward
And resisting, always resisting, that void so black

Tiring to do, a job so bleak
Looking outwards and inwards, seeing nothing
Not even a peek
Of break, of rest, of shelter so sought
Nothing but a raging sea, a turmoil of endless thought

From the Author

“I wrote this poem from my own experiences with depression, especially in the last half decade or so. When you are struggling with this formless thing it really can consume you, warping the way you see things or experience them. I tried to put these feelings into words by describing the way it felt, and the images I would see when I thought about myself. 

Every person experiences depression differently, but I do hope this poem helps you understand a bit more about the experience of living through it the way I did. I hope it helps you verbalize your experience. 

For too long there has been an unspoken stigma about these things, and the only way to break the silence is to normalize talking about it- and asking for help when you need it.”

Editor’s Note

If you or someone you know is experiencing depression, you can text the Crisis Line. Sierra College also has mental health resources available to students that include a list of local resources. And the National Alliance of Mental Illness (NAMI) offers information to support self-advocacy and educate the public.

Written by Malcolm McDougal | Photo by Milo McDowell, Unsplash

Malcolm McDougal is a Computer Science major at Sierra College working towards an Associate’s Degree as well as a transfer to later achieve his Bachelor’s. He hopes to go into a field involving programming, one thought being game development.

Yes I Am

lock on fence with 'sos' reference that also appears as 's loves s' because a heart-shape stands in for 'o'

Words were screamed across the room
A man was beaten, battered, and tried
Everything comes to a halt
It all comes down to this; who lied?

I watch from the safety of my own home
Johnny Depp vs. Amber Heard,
The trial that is being seen across the world

The comfortability and safety of my own life
Sits in the back of mind, rarely coming out to play
For others, their safety is dangling off a tightrope,
A finger away from falling into the depths

One in four women
One in nine men
10 million suffer
10 million too much

After a marriage full of hate, fear, and humiliation
Witnesses are brought to tell the truth as
Everything comes to a halt
It all comes down to this; who lied? 

Interruption, objection, hearsay
Years of being silent,
Depp is silenced once again
But now is the time to tell his story

Seeing toxicity since childhood left him bruised
The shadows of trauma followed him to his adulthood,
He didn’t have a voice then, but he has one now
In horror I listen to the audio clip playing at the end of testimony

“Tell them Johnny Depp, I, Johnny Depp, a man, 
I’m a victim too of domestic violence”
What did he say?
“Yes I am.”

 

Written by Jessica Mananquil | Photo by Georgy Rudakov, Unsplash

Jessica Mananquil is a Journalism major at Sierra College. She plans on transferring to San Francisco State University to pursue her interest in news and feature writing for fall 2022.