By: Brittany Gonzales 

My anxiety is like a squirrel! 

I bounce, bounce, bounce, walk, stop—-oh look a nice acorn! 

Wait—- 

There’s a beautiful yellow sunflower dropping seeds, 

I should go there—- 

What was I doing again? 

Lost 

By: Brittany Gonzales 

What am I running toward?  

My hands and pockets are empty, 

Where did my change go? 

No nickels, dimes, or quarters do I have. 

I feel lost in the mist- 

Searching for what? 

Who knows-Empty- 

Dark-crying-seeking- 

Where am I? 

The mirror holds my face 

But the darkness casts its’ shadow across it, 

Now all I see is a black storm in the mirror. 

Vincent Van Gogh’s 

“The Bedroom” a Poem 

By: Brittany Gonzales 

Isolated from the world, 

Van Gogh sprinkles his life with beauty, 

His bedroom a token to his soul 

Such simplicity in one area 

Yet, such splendor adorns his wall 

Blues, yellows, greens and brown splash across like the quiet soul he was, 

A peaceful lullaby in the wind, 

I cry as his art has touched my soul forevermore.