“The phoenix must burn to emerge.”

― Janet Fitch, White Oleander

Our Mission

The Chavez Literary Magazine wishes to ignite the community

with the words, photography, and art of its members. CLM aims

to elevate, inspire, and challenge.

We give special thanks to

Mr. Rene Sanchez

Our supportive Administrative

The English Department

The Yearbook

The Paw Print

The Theater Department

The Art Department

The Houston Chronicle

Greater Houston Women’s Chamber of Commerce

But most of all, we appreciate our dedicated readership and

contributors. Thank you for your support! We could not do it

without you.

For a free digital copy of our magazine, please visit ISSUU.

Dearest reader,

The Chavez Literary Magazine has officially completed its third

year, which is a cause for celebration. Considered archetypal, the

number three has a mystic quality; it is a true dimension, the holy

trinity, a perfect triangle, a beginning, middle, and end.

It symbolizes awareness.

My first year with CLM was defined by trial and error. We

survived our first year. Everything was a learning experience and

we bonded over it. The second year with CLM was defining; a

summer had passed and I was granted time to reflect. With a large

groups of kids, some new to the class and some returning, we

came in prepared with the gift of insight.

This third year was different; it was special. The past two years

were marked by our efforts. We were constantly trying to create

the magazine. Nothing was effortless because it still felt new, even

by the second year. Low and behold, the power of 3 worked its

magic on us. No longer consumed with whether or not we would

complete the arduous task of creating something out of nothing,

we had time to focus on our own writing. We had time to focus on

getting to know one another and cultivating friendships. We

hosted parties, worked together to weave metaphysical conceits,

and curated our submissions carefully.

It is not surprise that when we discussed a theme for this year’s

magazine, we settled on the mythological phoenix. Rising from its

ashes, the phoenix emerges stronger than ever, wiser from its

losses and prepared to soar. This was us. This was our third year.

Meet the Editors

(Top, from left: Lexani Hernandez, Mercedes Palacios, Pricsilla Medina, Jayleen Paz, Amber Criswell, Jessica

Casillas, Roxanna Soto, Cristian Sotelo Bermudez. Bottom, from left: Zitlalic Molina, Yesenia Esparza, Maria

Ramos, Gloria Eguia, Amy Ruiz)

Jason Cabrera, 17, will be a senior next year at Chavez High School. He is a very curious, loyal, naïve, outgoing, and joyful person. He enjoys listening to pop music. Jason at times feels shy, young, and carefree. He his friends, his cats, and singing with Emilce.

Jessica Casillas is a junior at Chavez High School. This is her first year in the Chavez Literary Magazine. She is a member of the fiction team.

Gloria Eguia is known as a compact and curly headed person that enjoys the magic and art of music. In her free time, you will see her with her loved ones or enjoying anything related to art. Recently she has been interested in contrasted art that has a mixture of bright colors. Gloria loves the moon and stargazing, and hopes to one day become an astronomer or study astrophysics. She is very in touch with her feelings and you can tell right away if something is wrong with her. If you ever need a hug or someone to talk to, just call her and she'll be there.

Yesenia Esparza is a just a junior with crazy stories to tell. Her favorite color is red and on her best days she will wear black. She can easily find ways to adapt to different types of people. She is the type of girl you’d be able to text at 3AM and she would be down to go out for an adventure. Yesenia can be very destructive, yet very constructive. She is an amazing person.

Ruby Guerrero is a sophomore at Chavez High School. This is her first year in the Chavez Literary Magazine. She is a member of the art team.

Lexani Hernandez is a sophomore at Chavez High School. This is her first year in the Chavez Literary Magazine. She is a member of the poetry team.

Mercedes Palacios is a sophomore at Chavez High School. This year is her first year in the Chavez Literary Magazine. She came from a small town in Nebraska. It has not been easy, yet she has been able to pull through. She loves to write in her free time and takes pictures when she has the opportunity. She loves to go to concerts but hates to be crowded by people. If you approach her or try to make conversation, she will try to ignore you because she is shy. Although she is shy she will stand up for what is right whether it is for herself or for others. She is always wearing band shirts, with profound words. She will even wear shirts with curse words all day and not get caught. She likes to be different by coloring her hair with beautify fantasy colors such as red, blue and purple. #Scemoth a’f

Pricsilla Medina is a student at Chavez High School. She is very quiet, serious, and shy at first. When she gets comfortable with you she can be really goofy and loves to laugh.

Zitlalic Molina was born in Puerto Vallarta, Jalisco. Her favorite color is red and she listens to all musical genres, except rock. She loves watching Grey’s Anatomy because one day she will be a doctor. She is making a collection of heels, and her goal is to have a closet full of heels like Khloe Kardashian. She has three brothers and zero sisters. She will be the second in her family to graduate high school and go to college. In her free time she watches horror movies or her favorite television show. She would like to live in Spain one day. Mornings are not her thing.

Jayleen Paz is in her first year of Chavez Literary Magazine. She is ambitious, strives to do her best in everything she does, and is determined to finish everything she starts. She admires animals and has been a member of FFA for 2 years. She has raised a pig that is known as her baby, Elvis. She is very fond of work and takes pride in her accomplishments. She can become overwhelmed with happiness, but can also get really stressed out, by school and her siblings. She hopes to be successful in the future.

Emilce Ramirez, 17, is a junior. She loves oldies and alternative rock, and enjoys the way the lyrics of each song defines her emotions and the way they take her away from all the problems going on around her. At first, she may look uptight, serious, and aggressive, but once she feels comfortable with you she is the sweetest person. The serious focused face she has is just a shell to guard how big her heart really is. She does her own thing and speaks her mind, never a follower. She tries to see the good in everything; this is one of her greatest weaknesses and one of her greatest strengths.

Maria Ramos is a student at Chavez High School. Born and raised in Houston, she is the middle child of five kids. Maria has an amazing personality and an enormous heart. She is a smart young lady who can get along with anyone as long as she is treated with respect. Maria’s favorite hobby is playing volleyball; she’s had a great passion for it since a young age. Maria is also a “musician” due to the fact that she has been playing the clarinet, and other instruments, for several years. She finds her daily peace in writing poems and drawing random thoughts that come into her head. She is a big fan of realistic shows and serial killers. She loves dark colors (although she’s a very positive person) and prefers quiet spaces over loud ones. She plans to one day be a cardiothoracic surgeon and she’ll do anything to make sure it happens.

Amy Ruiz is an excellent student at Cesar. E Chavez High School. She enjoys being a junior, although sometimes it can be an obstacle. When you first meet her, she seems like a quiet and shy kid but once you get close to knowing her she is loud and humble. She enjoys listening to different types of music and also takes some of her time to learn a few dances. In school, she is an honor student and always tries her best to make her parents proud. She hopes that in the future she will be a good example for everyone.

Gennecciee Sanchez is a sophomore at Chavez High School. This is her first year in the Chavez Literary Magazine. She is a member of the fiction team.

Cristián Sotelo is a senior at Chavez High School. He was born in El Salvador and has a good personality. He is a responsible and friendly person. He likes to eat Salvadorean pupusas, but also likes food from others countries. Cristián enjoys playing soccer and video games. The main thing that he wants to achieve is to graduate from high school and then go to college. He knows that it will be difficult but he will be able to make it. He likes to help those that are in need. He enjoys writing spontaneous poetry because he is currently in love.

Roxanna Soto is a sophomore at Chavez High School. This is her first year in the Chavez Literary Magazine. She is a member of the fiction team.

Amber Criswell is the faculty advisor of the Chavez Literary Magazine and an English II teacher, currently residing in the hall that looks like an orange Tic Tac. Actively involved in the Houston literary scene, she enjoys writing, reading, and submitting her work in her “free” time (nothing is really free, right?). She has high hopes of attending medical school within the next two years and when she is not knee-deep in a novel, she is deriving equations and studying the elements of epidemiology. Amber enjoys cat naps, collecting experience, reading Fallout fan fiction, and exploring all matters of things through hours-long conversation. She is an INFP that agrees with Elie Wiesel when he states that, “every question [possesses] a power lost in the answer.”

Content

Prose

Juarez Ivan Drops of Tears

Scott Amber The Story

Triana Heriberto Dreams of Fire

Casillas Jessica The Epitome of a Lucid Demise

Paz Jayleen Water

Molina Zitlalic Ghosts

Hernandez Lexani The Sun in December

Ruiz Amy Love

Poetry

Anderson Keyonna I am From

Giggans Troysha My Blanche Dubois

Juarez Ivan Embrace Yourself

Juarez Ivan Etitle

Juarez Ivan Turn Around

Juarez Ivan What a Lovely Day

Lara Dexter I Will Not Let My Eyes Be Dark

Woodard Angel Purge

Woodard Angel Tortured Soul

Art and Photography

Benitez Crystal Life’s Rad, Carlsbad

Brown Jverlyn Sky

Delgado Jose Cosmetic Imperfections

Delgado Valeria No. 3

Dinh Vivian Beach

Eguia Gloria Silly Sun

Eguia Josefina Nostalgic Morning

Farias Ashley City at Night

Farias Ashley Cliffs

Figueroa Karinna Divide

Lopez Dennis Face Within a Face

Mendoza Marielena Mouth

Navejar Jasmin Jas’s Pub

Nguyen Bao Tran Duck

Nguyen Bao Tran Flower

Palacios Mercedes Reflection

Palacios Mercedes Forest

Palacios Mercedes Trees

Pereyra Taylor Views of Houston

Todd Tela Flying High

Fiction

Drops of Tears | Ivan Juarez

Anziphis rested on the frigid stone wall. “Another long day,

eh?” Proclules, Anziphis’ older brother, asked.

“No, I’m just tired,” he replied. The brothers were wanderers,

constantly moving to avoid the imminent storm that the

Zoanthrums’ prophecies foreboded. Anziphis stood. “Where to

now?” he questioned.

“South.”

“How many paces?” Proclules held his bamboo staff, carved

with the leviathan Tungstewidoxus, pierced the dirt, and inhaled

the crisp air.

“One hundred fifty.”

Their travels led them to an abandoned safe house atop a

hill. “This will do,” Proclules sighed. They set their packed food,

extra clothing, and satchels on the dusty hardwood floor. The two

spread their cloaks on the main floor. “Brother, get some rest.

We’ll be heading out tomorrow.”

Anziphis nodded. He began to wander aimlessly around the

house. “This will do,” he whispered as he stepped into a vacant

room. Anziphis laid his quilt, a blue quilt with the azure sea, a

pearlescent ivory cloud, and a rusalka with glossy crimson hair

leaning at the bottom of a limestone cliff, all illustrated like came

glasswork. He sat Burmese style and folded his hand on his lap.

Anziphis took a deep breath and began to meditate. The energy of

the spirits breezed through his hair as the souls of the world

seeped into his skin, breaking the twilight, piercing the wood of

the ceiling, lifting him up into the skies, infusing him with

wisdom.

Drops of Tears | Ivan Juarez

“One in the sharp down the silent, unattended void lies the

endowment of life through tear’s shed.” The light died, and

Anziphis fell to the floor, knocking him unconscious.

The storm trudged on. The wind blasted through the

windowpanes. “Anziphis!” Proclules yelled. Anziphis’ eyes shot

open. The storm had arrived. It consumed half of the house.

Proclules held on to a dagger lodged in an unstable wood pillar.

Every drop of rain felt like a nail to the head.

“Proclules!” Anziphis threw his hand at him. “Grab on!”

“I cannot hold much longer. The rush of water will devour us

both. I am sorry brother. I must go. Now is my time. The gods

command this world; such a brutal end for me. But you, you have

a chance. Go, survive this wreck. Take my staff and fly up, away

from the horrendous waves of death, escape the ferocity of what is

the leviathan.”

Anziphis cried out as Proclules surrendered to the storm.

The water lessened; what was submerged now surfaced. Anziphis

sighed. “Why?” he asked. Anziphis screamed, angered by what the

leviathan had done to his brother. “I must not rile. I must not be

resentful.” He repeated this phrase over and over to calm his

mind.

“The only thing left to do is to walk.” Anziphis packed what

the storm did not destroy and left the safe house.

Day and night, dawn to dusk, sunrise to sunset, Anziphis

roamed the lands. On one early evening just as the golden sun was

hitting the horizon, he saw a forgotten well. He peered in and

could only see pitch-black. Anziphis leaned over to spot the

Drops of Tears | Ivan Juarez

bottom of the well. Not aware of how far over the edge he was, he

plummeted, and, what seemed like forever, finally crashed on to

the floor. When he awoke, he looked around. Four tunnels leading

into nothingness. Overwhelmed with shock, he took a deep breath

and began to mediate. Soon, one of the tunnels emitted light. He

paused, sidled by the wall, carefully listening to any sounds.

Hearing none, he relaxed, and suddenly the tunnel reached its

end, a shard of glass on the floor.

Anziphis sighed. “Another long day; now I’ll spend the rest of

it down here.” He folded his legs in the half lotus position and

mediated until early morning. As the sun rose, Anziphis felt a

force radiate through him.

“You must seek what you need to escape,” a voice whispered

in the air. Anziphis looked around. At the other end of the tunnel,

near the entrance of the well, he saw Proclules, but could not

move. “Proclules! I thought you were…” Proclules turned around.

Tungstewidoxus ripped through the waves and tore off Proclules’

left arm and leg. He shrieked and fell, and Tungstewidoxus

smirked as both dissolved into the air. Anziphis could not hold

himself any longer. He bawled, his heart breaking down into a

million pieces.

“He was my only friend, companion, brother. He was the

only thing I had left. And now he’s gone,” Anziphis kneeled, his

hands covering his face, cowering, weeping. “If only it was me.” A

tear crawls down, falling off his cheek, and hits the shard of glass.

“You have achieved true, merciless pain. You will now

achieve true, celestial power.” The voice in the air began to

resonate, the shard of glass glowing like the sun. The staff

Drops of Tears | Ivan Juarez

gleamed of azure. Anziphis knew what he had to do. He ran to the

entrance of the well and sat in the full lotus position,

concentrating his life force to his feet. The staff blew a gush of air.

“I am Anziphis.” Anziphis stood, his two feet levitating over

the ground. “I am Xidos.” He rose up, out of the well. Around him

the land was flooded, the well’s edge a few inches from the surface

of the water. Tungstewidoxus slithered, mocking Anziphis. “You

will not end me like you ended my brother!” Anziphis pierced the

staff through the stones of the well’s walls, creating thunder

clouds and lightning bolts. He summoned a leviathan. Anziphis

continued to rise, feeding the new leviathan life energy. Bronze

armor began to form around its slim body as its eyes began to

burn scarlet. “This is Procledoxus,” Anziphis smirked.

The two monsters of the sea battled like warriors, never

giving up. Soon Tungstewidoxus weakened; Procledoxus taking

full advantage of this and slaying Tungstewidoxus. Having

avenged Proclules’ death, Anziphis gained the ability to control

the rain. Every year he would create the rainy season of monsoons

in memory of his brother.

The Story | Amber Scott

I tried to find my way out of this creepy, unknown house while

lights were flickering left and right. Every step I took was harder

than the one before, my body was too cold as though I was in the

movie Frozen. I used the flash light on my cracked, out-of-style

Blackberry to see the walls and the floors. I was about to turn left

until I heard someone talking, so I turned right to check out if they

could help me out of this house.

Hopefully it’s not that horrible, ugly, annoying lady that put

me in this place. I turned down the brightness on my phone just in

case it was her, then I took slow, soft steps so the wooden floor

wouldn’t squeak. When my hand touched the rusted cold doorknob

all I could hear was the air conditioner. I turned the knob and

opened the door and saw nothing so I walked all the way in the

room. Right when I fully stepped in the room a long hard object hit

me across my face. I started to get dizzy, the room seemed to get

smaller and smaller. Then I was asleep.

Finally I woke up still in the same room on the ground.

Looking around the room I spotted a window. I stood up and went

to the window and I noticed it could be easily opened. So I pulled

the window down and climbed my small little body through it. Once

I landed on the outside of the building I looked around and saw I

was in an old warehouse not too far from where I live. I started to

run because I wanted to get away from that creepy place and lady

and be home.

Once I entered my house I saw my parents talking to our police

officers not even noticing me. So I pushed the officers out of the way

and hugged my mother and father, not letting them go. Although

they bombarded me with questions, I didn’t know how to answer

them. I was just finally glad I was back home with my lovely family.

Dreams of Fire | Heriberto Triana

My parents once said "follow your dreams, you’re capable of

doing all kinds of great things." I was a fiend, a demon, an addict to

graffiti's aerosol. It wasn't long before I turned to alcohol to drink

away my fears, and smoke away my troubles...if I did that...my

dreams would turn to rubble.

Now it seemed to me, that my dreams got up and walked away.

When people asked about my future I didn't know what to say. So

every single day I started to pray, not for myself but for the ones

around me. Just wanna live in happiness with those that surround

me. Tried to turn my life around, but graffiti spoke to me, I was

ready to take the Houston crown. I was dying in my daydream and

living in my nightmare. The life God gave me wasn't even fair. I was

already back to inhale the toxins in the air. Too many troubles at

home, I'd rather be alone. What's scarier than a 9 mili to your dome

is letting your thoughts roam...through your mind. And before you

know it, Karma will come back and get you from behind. Early

stubborn teenage years, it really hurt to see my mom wipe away her

tears. So I snapped out of it. Look at me now. I thought to myself. It

was time for a change. How can you love sunshine if you've never

touched rain? How can you be happy if you've never felt pain? You'll

never rise to the top if you've never sank to the bottom. Can't know

glory if you don't know misery. Half these cats that talk about me

don't know a single thing about me. What makes it even worse is

that sometimes my own people doubt me. I'm never happy but I'm

always thankful. Never satisfied but always grateful. If one day my

life came to an end, I'd still pray for my people with my very last

breath. I give my all another step, I give my set another rep. I'm on a

mission, on a quest, to be greater than the rest, to be better than the

best. I keep going when I tired, I got lit dreams and desires, and

they're blazing like a fire.

The Epitome of a Lucid Demise | Jessica Casillas

“I have to be mentally and physically ready for what I’m about to

tell you,” hearing what he told me I understood this was it. An

ending to a new beginning. I am empty from all corners of my

body, hearing your name makes me ache. I wipe my tears from my

dejected eyes. Pain from memories you and I shared together, all

those times we talked over the phone for hours about how we

would be forever, chugging down alcohol to try and forget. The

feelings of betrayal, knowing you were the love of my life,

destroyed instantly after you had a taste of the forbidden fruit. I

was so blind from seeing the real you, how you felt about me was

honestly nothing but a lie. I will never feel the same after that.

I’m insecure about how I look. I do not hate you because you had

faith in me, taught me to become a better and healthier person.

Telling me the mistakes you made so I wouldn’t make them as

well because I thought you were being sincere. I was always there

for you when someone close to you became deceased. I was there

to support, and care for you during the time of your loss. I know

well enough that you appreciated your grandfather’s

companionship.

These thoughts were wounding me every second you were on my

mind. The only way to stop the beast is to leave you behind and

move forward but how can I leave when all my thoughts are

surrounded by your essence. I fear the beast that is inside of me

knowing it will eat my insides while I fight to be awakened once

again by your presence.

You gave me your favorite shirt which now hangs at the back of

my closet waiting for it to be brought back to its original owner.

Who knew there would be so much tension between us? I have

found someone but I’m yet not satisfied. The fire within me,

The Epitome of a Lucid Demise | Jessica Casillas

which was meant for you, cannot be lit by someone else. Who

knew I would be hurt as much. I am a fool thinking you’d be part

of my life but instead you marked my soul.

I reminisce every day when I scroll through our messages, “Mimi

you’re my number one and making you happy, smile, and laugh

it’s like the best thing that can happen in my day.” I was on my

own before but for some reason it’s different. You cared for me

while my own family didn’t. Help me understand why I am going

through this pain, the feeling of being lost in my own mind. Even

though I am fed up I have to stand tall and conquer this madness.

Our bond has broken ever since you went away, but you “cared”

about me when you said, “I would do everything in my power to

ensure that you have an enriched and great life.”

You tell me you are still here, but are you really? Life is not over

but it seems that way. I am dead from the inside, decaying while

time catches up to me. My whole mind shatters into pieces

deciding what to do with myself. I thought I would be forever with

you. I am drowning in misery and yet I cannot swim away from it.

I suffocate myself trying to gasp for air. Every night I cry to

myself, in bed, wondering if you will ever come back into my life.

Even though I didn’t listen to the negativity that was said about

you, from my lips never your name said in vain. I believed in us.

I have this heavy feeling in my chest that something is missing.

To keep me happy there’s no limit to the things you did. I am

deprived of functional abilities. You were so skeptical while I was

naïve. The worst part is to know that you did not feel the same, I

finally understood why I was left to burn into ashes. Scattered

feelings blown away in the air, destroyed and left in ruins. I now

recall why you were devious, letting me understand why things

The Epitome of a Lucid Demise | Jessica Casillas

were not meant to be. You chose a piece of coal over the rare

gemstone that cannot be found anywhere.

After being overwhelmed each step became easier, like if my skin

was bearable to glass. Even though the thought of you was still in

my mind, I had questions revolving in my head repeatedly, “Why

worry? Why care? Why stress over it?” I was always independent.

I respect myself more than enough to not run back into a danger

zone. When I take a look at myself, I see my soul’s reflection and

realize this was a good thing. I now know to not make the same

mistake and hopefully you’re happy with the decision you made,

thank you.

Water | Jayleen Paz

Running in the storm trying to get to my destination, but it is

difficult to see and maintain control. Hail has commenced falling;

I was left with harsh marks and bruises as if they had meant to do

so. The ocean suffocates my butterflies, my insecurities, and

doesn’t care about the past. The waves move and fascinate me

daily. There are so many secrets hidden deep down under,

although I may not be able to discover every single one. It has also

engulfed many ships and souls. It also has its own theories,

therefore it is not gullible.

I have tried to move past its vast horizons, but was

suffocated by my last breath. It has pulled me back under with its

mysterious ways. It keeps me afloat at times when I feel like I can

no longer continue, that’s also if I do not panic, so either way I

wish it could be there for me. I cannot live without it as much as I

try to conserve its every drop. It has been around for years, and I

may not know for how much longer. Being unable to feel its touch

seems like a drought. It would be dry and unimaginable to

consider the fact of living without it, because I need it in my life.

You are like this, too.

Ghosts | Zitlalic Molina

Roaming through the darkness, lonely and afraid. Ghosts cannot

be afraid, they are like lost souls. Ghosts are scary they say, but

have you ever seen one? I met him in mid-October, at a park late

at night. All he wants is to be happy for once. Feelings are a part of

him. Maybe I’m the only one that has seen him. Every day he

stalks my neighbor, she is a beautiful light-skin woman with long,

dark brown hair and green eyes. Depression and sadness are all

over him. All he wants is to get out of that dark world he lives in.

Once a ghost makes itself visible to a human they become free. It’s

almost like we are a portal to ghosts’ happiness. I know that his

way out is through that beautiful girl. She just does not want to

see him, it is almost as if she tries to avoid him. He has put clues

for her but she goes out of her way to not notice them. I consider

him to be her shadow and it will continue until this girl notices

him. These type of spirits are everywhere but people are selfish to

not notice them. I believe that ghosts are shy. The day has come

and this ghost has been watching my neighbor for days. She is

walking down the sidewalk of the apartments. Hiding, he watches

her moves. The way she walks, the wind shakes her hair. I am

watching through my window as she gets near the mail boxes. The

lights start flickering. I notice she is struggling to open her mail

box, but something is wrong, she seems nervous. Her keys fall and

as she gets down to get them the sky starts to roar and the clouds

become dark. I see him getting closer to her and I know she feels

chills. My window starts to get foggy as the rain is falling. She

hurries up and opens her mailbox and starts walking fast through

the rain, becoming soaked. This is the part where he comes out

and with his white flesh, covers her. This the part where he gets

noticed for once.

The Sun in December | Lexani Hernandez

It is ice cold and windy, the breeze is vigorous. Every now

and then the clouds open widely and beams of sunshine creep out.

Within that moment, for those few seconds, warmth is given, it is

cherished deeply, leaving everyone wanting more and more, you

feel absolutely great, because it gives you a sense of comfort, and

it makes you want to feel that way forever. As the clouds begin to

close, sucking up the beams, that wonderful sunshine goes away.

Banished, gone, like it was never there. Everyone longs for those

clouds to open again, to be cradled in the pleasant warmth of the

sun, the sun that will make your troubles of freezing disappear,

the sun that can give satisfaction with just one touch…But oh, how

much misery the sun can give too; making you become tense,

because you’re worried that it may never return, unable to think

of what to do, feeling like a hungry baby that just wants its bottle.

Frustrated with the continuous coming and going, over thinking,

you wonder why the sun must always come and go so quickly, and

so little. Why can’t it stay longer? Why does it not care at all that

you are cold and just want to feel it? Why?

You would think the sun selfish, but every day the sun rises,

it goes about its day without realizing anything, paying no

attention to the surroundings, it does not think of you, it does not

like or dislike you, it is completely oblivious to everything, that it

is making you feel this misery, this grief; that you are waiting; or

so you think. Yet, you still have hope that it does think of you. You

make excuses about why it still hasn’t returned, “Oh it’s just

revolving around the world right now, give it some time.” But that

is what you have been doing all along; giving time, so much time,

and you are starting to lose your patience… Just when you least

The Sun in December | Lexani Hernandez

expect it, “There it is!” shining a warm soft pink, you get a good

last glimpse of it, watching with an amused look upon your face,

as it slowly begins to descend into the horizon. You are so happy

in this moment, but you are also so sad, you know sooner or later

it will be night time, the sun will be awake unseen, camouflaged

into the night sky, hidden behind darkness, and you will not see it

for a long time. It will just be you and the faint light of the moon,

but in the end the sun will come up again, and you will still be

there waiting when it finally shines.

Love | Amy Ruiz

I sat holding a folder in one hand and a pencil in the other.

The smell of my mother’s cooking and the sound of my baby

brother crashing his car toys together surrounded my room. The

homework that was given to me was taking me almost two hours

to finish and I was exhausted. I was thinking about taking a break

but I knew if I stopped, there was no way I would keep on going.

So I sat there, just thinking. Thinking about what the future holds

for me. And he is one of the things I hope the future does hold.

Although, every time he says something mean, like when he

doesn’t reply or when he doesn’t talk to me all day, I just want to

stop talking to him for good. Or sometimes I even wish I’d never

met him because of it. But I know that without him, I would just

cry, as if somebody was taking my life away. Every time he says

something sweet, my skin tingles and I fall for him more and

more. I daydream about him every time I get the chance and he

makes my heart flutter. I get scared. Whenever he asks to meet

me, I start to overthink everything. I start to think to myself,

“What if he doesn’t like me anymore?” What if he found someone

else and decides to leave me?” I get scared, but happy. I especially

get all panicky when he calls me so late at night. Once again, I

start to believe he just wants to get rid of our relationship, and

end it just like that. Don’t get me wrong, I love hearing his voice,

but I just get so frightened. So far, he still explains to me that he

loves me too much to do that. I know most relationships never last

though, especially when we’re just seventeen years old.

It’s like a roller coaster, if you ask me. A ride that can give

you a bunch of feelings just by the way it goes.

I see it as something similar, because they both consider you

to be a certain way. Like height for rollercoasters or the way you

Love | Amy Ruiz

look in relationships. It goes up, making you feel amazing, like the

world is yours then and there. It makes you feel terrified, but you

are still enjoying it at the same time. It then reverses in the

opposite way, making you feel sick or physically ill like if

something isn’t right. It drops down, and it makes you feel like

crying, but also comforted knowing there is someone there to fix

your mistakes. He makes me go through so many emotions, that I

feel confused. Although I won’t lie, I love it.

Poetry

I Am From | Keyonna Anderson

I am from Port Arthur, TX

I am from discrimination

I am from lack of interest

I am from lowered education

I am from only good for one reason

I am from poor Pronunciation

I am from poor living areas

I am from lowered expectations

But what you don't know is…

I am from the honor roll

I am from good communication

I am from nice neighborhoods

I am from many recommendations

I am not the color of my skin

I am not your expectations

I am a black woman

With no limitations

My Blanche Dubois | Troysha Giggans

My Blanche Dubois is a full woman armored with pastels and

jasmine perfumes.

All grace and class with cleverness and brokenness.

Witnessing death and confusion finding comfort in intimacies.

Scorched by a bright bare lightbulb.

Unmerciful

Unforgivable

Moth-like retreating into a dark dream.

Nightmare that only liquor can soothe.

My Blanche Dubois is a sensual woman who enjoys the sweet

nature of poetry and the flirtation of literature.

Young boys in their youth with sweet sincere passions.

One kiss…

She comes in all shapes and sizes.

Pastel paper lanterns bought on Bourbon street.

A reminder of

My Blanche Dubois is magical “A Paper Moon” hanging from a

ceiling.

Hopes of security gone.

Lies revealed shame uncovered.

Unmasked

Unloved and alone

Fantasies are no longer dreams, but true reality.

No line divides the two.

Old dream is suspended in time; a new life begins!

Because my Blanche Dubois is a full woman Dubois with hopes

and dimmed dreams.

Embrace Yourself | Ivan Juarez

Document 1:

Ever since I moved, I’ve noticed a few things.

People are different.

People speak differently.

People hear differently.

People feel differently.

People here are different.

It is expected.

But not to this degree.

Unless,

It’s me who’s different

Document 2:

Yeah,

People are the same.

People speak the same.

People hear the same.

People feel the same.

People here are the same.

It is expected.

Especially at this degree.

And

I’m different.

Etitle | Ivan Juarez

I see you

All dressed in white,

From the starry skies

To the dark moonlight.

An empty road

Is where we stand

Separated

By the bright yellow line

And as we walk

Trees, bushes, leaves

The thunder cracks in the distance.

A storm is near.

No, not a weather storm.

A storm that will eradicate

And we cannot do anything.

Turn Around | Ivan Juarez

“Turn around.”

Everyone glared at me. Was it my jeans? I could buy a new pair.

Was it my hair? I could get a haircut. Was it my weight? I could

exercise.

…

It’s none of that, then. Is it me? I could change.

“You can’t fix it.”

“You’ve hurt people.”

“You can’t change the past.”

“You’re not worth anything anymore.”

“You ruin everything and everyone you touch.”

I know what I’ve done. Does it hurt you all that much? Maybe I

should reconsider my life. My existence. If I can’t live a happy life

and be shunned at every moment, then is there any point left?

…

I guess not.

“It’s you.”

“It’s how you act.”

“It’s your decisions.”

“It’s your heartless soul.”

“It’s your inconsiderate and selfish soul.”

“It’s what you do to others that makes you deadly.”

“Go away.”

Okay.

What A Lovely Day | Ivan Juarez

The blossoming cream of winter’s eve brushes against my cheek.

I can see my glowing, warm home from here.

The freezing wind shivers my spine.

I can see the forest from here.

The rope stiffens my neck.

I can see the sky.

I WILL NOT LET MY EYES BE DARK | Dexter Lara

I WILL NOT LET MY EYES BE DARK

LIKE MY MIND

OR MY HAIR MESSY

LIKE MY THOUGHTS

I CAN NOT BELIEVE

IT TOOK ME THIS LONG TO REALIZE

NOTHING IS WRONG

BUT I SURE CAN'T STOP FEELING LIKE

EVERYTHING IS OUT OF PLACE

NOW THAT THE HURRICANE IS GONE

AND THE DUST HAS ALMOST CLEARED

I'M ONLY DIFFERENT

BECAUSE I UNDERSTAND THINGS

THAT THEY DON'T

I SHOULD NOT BE SHAMED FOR THAT

MY DREAMS ARE TOO BIG

FOR THIS CITY TO HANDLE

LIFE IS MOVING ON AND

SO SHOULD I

SURE I AM SCARED

AND ALONE

BUT I'M FINE

THERE ARE SOME DAYS WHERE

I AM KAHLO

AND OTHERS I AM GOGH

BUT THAT'S OK

BECAUSE I AM HUMAN

AND I CAN NOT CONTROL MY EMOTIONS

I MAY NOT HAVE THE SUN IN MY EYES

OR LOVE FLOWING THROUGH MY VEINS

NOT EVEN A BEAUTIFUL NEBULA IN MY MIND

I WILL NOT LET MY EYES BE DARK | Dexter Lara

BUT RATHER LIGHT RAIN IN MY MIND

HAVE YOU EVER DANCED IN THE RAIN?

AND FIRE RUNNING THROUGH MY VEINS

HAVE YOU EVER SAT BY A FIRE WITH A FRIEND?

THAT'S OK, I HAVEN'T EITHER

AND THE DIRT IN MY EYES

BECAUSE EVERY FLOWER

HAS TO GROW THROUGH DIRT

Purge | Angel Woodward

I want to purge to swipe away my sin to take away the urge

To get in trouble from the demons from within

To start over and start a new beginning

But I know it’s a catch there’s always one to it

Drenched in misery as I make up for my mistakes

Each chance I get I get it taken away

My level of mentality is bold and shady

With the demons inside of me I could go crazy

That’s why I ask for a purge to come my way

But I have to strive for it that’s all it takes

For my soul to be cleansed and the demons be gone

Then my life would be something like a happy song

Tortured Soul | Angel Woodard

Time after time, nothing but hate was shown

So crazy in my head that it had my mind blown

With so much pain I endured inside

There is no good in me, the reason is, it has died

My soul’s being tortured from mistakes I’ve made in the past

Even the good times I remembered I knew wouldn’t last

I’m running out of time like an empty hourglass

With days going by my life is moving too fast

But can I take a break from life and not look at reality

I’ve screwed up so much I know the world probably mad at me

Is there gonna be a time where my soul will heal

Or will it just commit suicide and itself it kills

Art

&

Photography

Life’s Rad, Carlsbad | Crystal Benitez

Sky | Jverlyn Brown

Cosmetic Imperfections | Jose Delgado

No. 3 | Valeria Delgado

Beach | Vivian Dinh

Silly Sun | Gloria Eguia

Nostalgic Morning | Josefina Eguia

City at Night | Ashley Farias

Cliffs | Ashley Farias

Divide | Karinna Figueroa

Face Within a Face | Dennis Lopez

Mouth | Marielena Mendoza

Jas’s Pub | Jasmin Navejar

Duck | Bao Tran Nguyen

Flower | Bao Tran Nguyen

Forest | Mercedes Palacios

Reflection | Mercedes Palacios

Trees | Mercedes Palacios

Views of Houston | Taylor Pereyra

Flying High | Tela Todd