Broad Spectrum

I lay in my bed thinking about how my life has come to this. What decisions have I made that make me feel this empty feeling of worthlessness? The lights from my flickering candles illuminate the dark room. The sun is beginning to set. I play some calming music and rap myself up in a comforting blanket to try to push the thoughts away. I know I look awful right now, so I don't bother looking in the mirror when I walk into the bathroom. Thinking and thinking as the room continues to grow darker. I begin shaking and crying because a sudden realization has crossed my mind. Why are you acting this way? You have such a blessed life! There are hundreds of people in the world that have reasons to feel the way you are acting right now and you have nothing! Stop being selfish. The crying becomes silent tears and my face becomes numb. I know that I have no reason to feel like this I just can't help it. The darkness continues to fill the room and the only bit of light is coming from the little candles. The only thing that is making me happy is the little candles. They fulfill my sorrow and make it disappear for the time I spend watching them bend and twist in the wind. I rely on these candles to help me when I need them. If I lose the brightness I will be swallowed in the dark, and there will be no escape.

-Anonymous

I know a girl who is filled with scars. Scars from loving too much and caring more than she should. She wanders the world in hopes to escape her labyrinth. "I don't see any scars," says society. I know a girl who struggles to keep her faith and to find hope. She sits alone at night unable to sleep because her thoughts run wild in the jungle of her brain. Second guessing how others feel about her only makes it worse. "She isn't lost. She smiles all the time," says society. I know a girl who despises society. A society that tells children growing up that they must look like a Barbie and be strong like Hulk. A society that says you're ignorant if you fail a test. A society that says you can't be sad if you smile and have it better than others. Society doesn't know that her scars are in her heart and not on her wrist. Society doesn't know that her anxiety controls her mind and causes her mind to become lost in itself. And society doesn't know that sadness is possible in any human no matter what they have and how they live.

-Evelyn Sutton

The world awaits. The swift breeze calls my name and tells me to do unimaginable things. The road is paved for me to wander on. That's all I really do. I wander from place to place searching for an unknown sanity. Maybe if I live in such a place the insanity inside myself will balance out with the sane aura. But, what fun is that? The world awaits me with adventure. It is calling me to make art and make love and make beautiful things I never thought I was capable of. The glistening stars are telling me to look beyond their presence. They want me to reach as deep as I can and grasp every harmony they sing and share it with strangers on the street. It is my calling to share. No matter how greedy I may be. I always hated sharing, but I find it necessary to share thoughts and words and art. The world is awaiting my talents. The world is awaiting someone like me. I must not hold back. It's frightening. The thought of being too vulnerable. I don't want people to walk all over me. But I also don't want to seek shelter in a shell. I have to choose which is more miraculous. The world awaits. I choose to share. I hope the world accepts me and what I may bring.

-Evelyn Sutton

I am entirely engulfed in my mind. I occasionally have some sense of who I am and who I want to be. But right now I have not a clue. I feel a certain yearning for someone to hold me close. It's like I am afraid to be alone. But I suppose I am. I have no idea who I am. I know that I love art. Art is who I am. It expresses me in thousands of ways. I am expressed in every bend and curve of the road I travel on. I am the silence in a room full of people. I am the surreality of the human corpse. I am a being in a body I wish I knew a little bit better. I am unique and different, and I find it hard sometimes to believe that it is okay to not be like someone else. It is okay to be my own different and my own insanity. It is okay to be a bother to some and loved by more. There are people in the world who do not understand me. All I can say to them is that neither do I. I do not understand my bubbling personality or my annoyance. I do not know why some days I am sadder than the other. I do not know why I fear time and the amount of it I have left. The only thing I am sure of is that the fresh smell of fall and a cool winter breeze calms me more than the medicine ever will. The serenity of the world will always interest me. I am sure that this world is full of many things and despite the horror of it all, being alive is one of the most fascinating things I am blessed to be.

-Evelyn Sutton

Every corner my head turns to, my eyes gaze upon empty cans of alcohol. There on the ground, there on that table, and there, crushed in front of the microphone stand. I never understood a person's desire to allow themselves to lose complete control of their own body, to not have a set state of mind. I wonder why they feel the need to get drunk, to get high, to lose themselves in something toxic. Sometimes it's a person, sometimes it's a blunt, sometimes it's a bottle of vodka, and sometimes it's a cigarette. Every being different from the other. Every mind suffering and wandering in its own direction. I find it intriguing, the way a person chooses to lose themselves. I've always chosen music or prayer or writing or dancing or creating. It is so easy for me to get lost in an intricate rhythm with beautifully strung lyrics, or in the process of spilling out every piece and crevice of my mind. There is nothing more breathtakingly beautiful to me than the way a human can move to the sweet sound of music, intoxicated or sober. The human soul has a way of being an extraordinary work of art every time it manages to set itself free.

-Evelyn Sutton

I was born in a colorless town, near the astonishing light of my own being. I was a mistake hated by some, but eventually grew part of the family. The people lingered around me as the world I lived in carried a gentle aura and little worries. Hallways overflowing with children led me into a classroom of knowledge. A delicate timeworn teacher took me under her wing. At home a divorce severed the family. On Sundays, the cheerless child traveled from household to household, one long car ride away. My father was busy traveling the world. My mother told him the walls had ears. I learned the burden of secrets. Several remarriages but finally the right one relieved your pain and loneliness. Seven children called for a lot of money, sometimes, that we did not have. Children were caught sneaking around, as were parents. I moved into the stressful days and tear filled nights of adolescence. Soot yanked the childhood memories, even as we clinched until our hands were numb and blue. The fathers addiction led to verbal abuse, though one time, more than that. Two sons, one daughter, we followed the melody of the wind chimes. My grandmother held her head high as our chins quivered. In the new era, society spoke so ruthlessly. Eventually, I learned to close my ears. The harrowing, savage world turned the daughter towards poetry. Hopefully, she will become a mother like her own, head strong and independent. Ordinary life: the twists and turns of it. Lines drawing pictures to clarity. The past tucked away, the future left untold for the mysteries of the beautifully, difficult, hideous present. A life enriched with this. Then, I received word that you pulled the trigger. I too wanted to go home. I pleaded at the door to my childhood but it was barred shut. Nothing more could be done, years passed and we continued to grow. Later, another decided to leave us and we decided to let him. An aging ladies tears, an aging ladies loneliness. Bathroom floors, pills, and razor blades were used to feel something, anything. Then all at once, someday turned into today, and morphed into yesterday. So far, still hurt. Yet the scattered world is restless and I follow.

-Anonymous

Oh, baby girl, it is going to get rough. It is going to get so rough your lungs will stop functioning and your eyes are going to run out of tears. There will be times when you are up all night wondering if the pain will ever end. But remember the moment when you were four years old and your only worry was beating your playmates in hide and seek. Savor that perfect moment, babygirl. Remember the endless laughter and the sense of freedom when you maxed out on the swings and were so high you could almost see Jesus's face. Remember the way it felt when your mother would gently braid the hair out of your eyes, her touch so tender, love would shoot from her finger tips and tingle your skin. Remember the feeling of power as you flew down the slide, the wind kindly pushing you, letting you know it was on your side. Remember the touch of your mothers hand when she would pull you in to say it was time to go. Never let anyone steal these feelings of worth from you. You are a child of God. You are all together beautiful my darling; there is no flaw in you.

-Molly Slaten Moorer

I am not sure if you will ever exist, but I have hopes that you eventually will. I know that if you do one day come along, you will be the most precious gift God will ever deliver, however, you will only be on loan to me. And until the day that our father rings the church bells for you to return home, I will preach to you all of my knowledge and protect you with my everything. I long to give your first bath, when your pinkie toe splashes the warm water and sends shivers up your spine. I long to see the colors in your hair develop as I gently finger through it before bedtime stories. I long to see the innocent smile spread across your face when your father arrives home from work and embraces you in his open arms. I long for the early nights nestled in bed and the everlasting pajama days spent laughing with you. I long for your first trip to the library when you inhale the sweetness of the timeworn books and gasp in amazement at the realization of the many different dreams you are able to live. And once the books begin to speak to you and whisper stories of a flawless world that you ache to be a part of, I will be waiting for you with my everlasting embrace. I vow to always listen, as I wish for you to always speak. I wish for you to hide nothing; please, babygirl, speak your hurt, speak your loneliness, and speak your fears. I promise you are not alone in this horrid world. I vow to carry you through hardships until the day that you only want me by your side. Even then, I vow to walk in your footsteps to ensure that you are fully sewn back together. But most of all, I long for your moment of ease and your gasp of relief when you are ridden of the anxiety and overcome with clarity after understanding my love for you.

-Molly Slaten Moorer