PlaygroundSkiddles

From the New Born Mania Collection Written By Skylar Jinx This is a 9/11 story. Although, it's really a teenager’s story, a story mostly involving myself as well as teenagers so I suppose calling it a 9/ll story is widening it out some. That’s my entire point; this is a 9/11 due to the fact that it’s about teenagers.  It’s because as teenagers our alleged naïveté, internal conflicts and newfound knowledge provide a pivotal look at America before and after to the attacks upon it. I think the words I find most people associate with adolescence mean about the same thing. Conflict and rebellion as well

Cannonballs From Herculean Hearbeats Written By Skylar Jinx I’m sorry I’m lost. Forty years of personal service has made me drift and now I, like you have gone numb. It’s an awful fate, to wake up in the morning with your arms empty but your body full. Days turn to months, months into years and eventually you find a way to occupy yourself. Memories are all that remain, time is obsolete. Grandfather traveled to the bordellos of Spain, you’ve heard the winds lullaby in the Western Front, I’ve walked through sweat and blood in the land of sand. You never remember date you first slept in hole on Norway but when the win

Don’t hold yourself that way It could hurt your pride Don’t build your walls so high The floods always sink you down Harold, Even though she left before Don’t damn her; it was her fate to choose So take care of those she left It’s alright to be forced to be late Harold, How many times have you felt that you’re fading As many moments as they’ve been calling to you Stronger than trees are the mountains But they’re weathered and alone Anger set in stone Harold, you prayed for her strength God put you to the test And broke your heart to show you He’ll only take the best

He is a mystery, Never a whispered mystery, rather a mystery sung by the roaring chorus of choirs Bellowed by the rampant tempest and illuminated by the bonfires of love, loss, and passion He is a painting Never composed of ideas, rather light and shadow, silence and noise Celestial faces and coarse hands He is a well A vast cauldron where hope and fear, dedication and impulse are burned together He is a pier Forever dark, sensual, and profoundly moving The origin where man and nature, man and God, and man and man collide He is a torrent Destined to surge away Before the world pollutes its feral perfection

Abstinence v. Sex Education, Why not both? Wrap it before you tap it or wed ‘em before you spread ‘em? Come on, it’s almost Spring Break so you knew this was coming sooner or later. As we approach the season that’s come to embody every cliché from flowers, warmth and sunshine, and hot pants with Gucci glasses lets recall one fundamental association: The birds and the bees. I’ve had what could be called the dubious honor of participating in both sex education and abstinence only programs since I came to high school. Besides the obvious awkwardness of learning southern human anatomy and condom application I found