Issue #6Vol. 1

Identity Issues

Marco Tapuro, McAllen

� e Identity IssueIssue # 6, Vol. 1

Isaac Chavarria, Copy EditorJaime Garcia, Art EditorErica Garza-Johnson, Poetry Editor Esmeralda Noyola, Editor in Chief

The views refl ected within this issue do not represent the views of Speechless in the RGV; in fact, the views expressed by any speaker or character in any statement, poem, drawing, photo, painting, or short story do not necessarily refl ect the views of any-one. This is an artistic and creative expression of the artists & writers. This is art.

This is a non-profi t literary and arts magazine for teens and young adults. We aim to give you a voice. Share with us what leaves you speechless.

Extended issue!!Scroll over artist or ad

and link to their FB/webpage. speechlessinthergv.weebly.com

Must Reads: Mix-up: Swift the Cat-Human

ZombieZaur: Goes to Spring Break

Bullycide in America

Along the River

The Lemon Tree Caper

Boundless 2012

Dangers of Texting and Driving

Submit your work for FREE!! We are always looking forsubmissions. All ages are welcome. Include your

name and city of residence.Contact Esmeralda Noyola,

Editor & Publisher at speechlessmagazine@live.com

facebook.com/speechlessrgvmag

Submit your work for FREE!!Submit your work for FREE!!Submit your work for FREE!!We are always looking for

submissions. All ages are

ZombieZaur: Goes to Spring Break

Eve Bustamante Photography, HarlingenModel: Sara Longoria

Just like you

I'm grown up but they treat me like a kid. I'm smart, but they call me dumb. I'm tall, but they look down on me. I'm happy, but they ask me, "why so blue?" It's because of you. Because of you I'm not me. I'm not who I thought I was. Who am I? I act like a kid, but you tell me to grow up already. I play dumb, but you ask me, "don't you understand?" I look short, but they stare at me like I'm a giant. I hide my smile, and you don't care. Well, I don't care anymore. Because of you I wasn't me. But I'm just like you. Just like you I'm just me.

~ Alexandra Y. Hernandez, McAllen

Eve Bustamante Photography, HarlingenModel: Sara Longoria

LeftShe made me taste sadness, loneliness, and

pure hate.All I ever wanted for our relationship was

anything, but cruel fate.I feel as if I’ve drowned in a sea of sorrows.

I don’t want to go on any longer,so there will be no tomorrow.

All I have now is to dwell in the darkness of my fears,

and just release my tears.For many years I will have sadness,

and for the rest of my lifejust live with madness.

~ Andres Castaneda, La Joya

Ben Verela, Edinburg

Delvis Cortez, Edinburg

Despite the fact that this hoodie will leave me drenched in sweat, I must continue to wear it for the sake of the identity I have adopted. � is hoodie protects me from the judgmental eyes of society.

Record highsof 109F.

Hey, guey, let’s go get high.

.......water.......

Is that a yes? I can’t tell. Please speak up.

Daniel Garza, McAllen

Teacher: What do you think your principal does when he goes home?

Rudy: He gets in his Mercedes with ripped seats, stops by Stripes, buys burritos, chips, and an 18 pack of Michelob. He gets home and gives a beer to each one of his children, so they will go to sleep. � en he tells his wife to go out with her friends and he invites the neighbors wife over. :p

Hey, guey, let’s go get high.

.......water.......

It is extraordinarily important that you take medi-cation properly. Accidental overdose is a very real possibility. So, exercise utmost caution. Any questions or concerns?

I wonder ifI can snortthis stu� toget high?

Mar

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Jessica De La Rosa, Harlingen

Recycled Dreams workshop in Mexico.

This is Not Me

If you would walk my halls,this is all you’d see.To start offyou can just see me.I’m 17 and pregnant.Though there’s nothing strange here.We’re like a mommy wolf packand lets make this perfectly clear,look at us, we’re standingbright and tall with glare.Still think that we’re worthless?Then, watch us make it here.If you ever walked these halls, then this is all you’d see.Look to my right or directly in front of me.See, his name is Pancho,goes by the name Plex,wears baggy clothes,blue jersey shirts,and three tattoos on his legs.He smells like pot every day,but do you see that word?‘’Everyday’’ he comes to schooland you may think he’s bored.He sits in the back,last row, just looking at the rest.When the class is over,his work is on the desk.

You think he'll never make it,but you won’t be the first.He'll prove you wrong. You just watch.He'll make it through these turns.So, if you don’t walk my halls,don’t speak another word.See it’s tough every day,but that's not stopping us.We'll make it out one day somehowwe’ll finally be there.So, if you don’t walk my halls,then war we shall declare.- As one JL ACE stands, we are only as different as what your mind thinks of us.

~ Yazeem "YazWar" Guerra, La Joya

II am the unkept house

made of frame.I am the painting on the wall

covered by dust.Like a secret made of trust

my eyes the windows to my soul needed glasses to keep them whole.

I am the mother to thatcrying child

that calms down after a while.I am that girlwhat a desire

that only the Lordknows of.

III once that unkept house

made of frame.A child that never understood.

Now I feel like a newbornin this world

who opens her eyes for the firs time.New tastes and surroundings engulf my soul.

Slowly but surely take me whole.My brown eyes once full of rage

now look at the world from my next turning page.I once was that unkept house made of frame,

but now something happened and I am....remade!!

IIII am Nicole.

Nicole Cavazos, Harlingen, TX

JJ Paulin Torres, Reynosa

It’s what you do.

Identity is not the name on your ID.It’s what people see, hear, and know.They’ll hold on to that, so be careful what you show!If they know you as a rat that is what you will be,no matter if that was in the past, they won’t let it go.“Forgive and Forget” that’s what we’re told.Even though we are forgiven,we won’t leave anyone living.Christ forsook our transgressions,forgave the thief and the murderer!He hears our confessions, and forgets our iniquities,helps us put our lives back in order.This world stains us and punishes us.We keep on living with an identity that haunts us. ~ Fernando Ramirez, La Joya

Lizeth Gonzalez, San Benito

Identity Crisis

I fi nd you will be pleasedWhen the throbbing in my hand has ceasedA pound of fl esh is on the fl oorMy knife did what I asked and moreThe most blood I’ve ever seenFunny, not one of you intervenedThe most violent one from the restYou need to clean this beautiful messBut fi rst a little testTo see if I can suppressThe voices in my headI think he’s already deadI’m covered in passion, curiously contentI’m agitated it’s over, please count to tenThe screaming silence has begun

I need to illicit more criminal funI liked it when there was noisesHush! I’m looking at my choicesPick the girl in whiteNo, she might put up a fi ghtWe’ve never done a brunetteI’ll stitch her with sharp threadI’d like to catch her with a netI don’t think I have ever metENOUGH!!!!I found one that’s promisingTell us tell us we’re all listeningThe one wearing a hat, he looks weakFine! But this time let the blood leakBefore I get rid of the body?No! Before you dismember him entirely!

~ David Barcelona, McAllen

Without You

I messed up. You messed up. We messed up. Ok, maybe I more than you, pero ya fue mucho. Why can’t we move on? Let’s talk about this and squash it. This is enough. We love each other, so what’s the problem? No uvo traisiones. Como dice la cancion, “atascate que ay lodo.” Tienes miedo? What keeps you from diving back in if you know that I’m yours? I’m yours. Your mine. That’s it. There’s just you...and me. Y que te puedo decir? Sin ti no soy you. Me siento in-completa. Ayer me viste platicando con otro. “I thought you said that after me there wouldn’t be anyone else. That I was it.” You also said you’d never leave me. Remember that? Acuerdate

Anonymous

Raquel Moreno, San Benito

Beyond Death

Halloween night, my brother and I got ready for a Halloween party. I told my brother to hurry up because I was already in the car. While I was waiting in the car, I saw a black luxury car passing very slowly through the neighborhood. I ignored it. My brother finally got in the car and we headed to the party. We arrived and met up with all our friends, but suddenly felt sick. I told my brother I didn’t feel well and was going to get some punch. While I was serving myself some juice a lady with a black dress and heavy makeup was practically breathing down the side of my neck. She asked for my name and extended her hand out for a handshake. I freaked out and left. I headed toward the restroom feeling like I had eaten a box of nails. Suddenly, the same woman came out of the ladies room. I was startled. The lady that was at the punch table was now in the restroom as if she teleported. She walked up to me, asked for my name again, and a handshake. I told her my name, but something told me not to shake her hand. I didn’t. I left with my brother and I told him that we need to leave. As we were leaving the lady in black called out my name and walked up to me. I turned, scared, and confused. She told me I had left my car keys on the counter by the punch bowl. I reached for my car keys. When I touched her hand to retrieve my keys in a sudden moment she smiled and I fell with a thud. I died in an instant without knowing that all along I was face to face with my own death.

~ Rosbelt Chapa, La Joya

� e Blackie � e girl in the black dress is always hanging out at school alone. I always see her holding her books tight to her cheast and bolting to class. All creepy, she’s always starring at everybody, but no one talks to her. One day some guy wanted to mess with her, so he bumped into her and she dropped all ther things. She looked up at him, got mad, and and pulled out a weapon from her backpack. She started to stab everybody on the neck, then they transformed into zombies. � ey would follow her orders. She told her zombies to kill everyone. I got my special weapons and began to kill zombies le� to right with Saul by my side. � en I woke up to my pillow full of drool and my mom calling me to get ready for school.

~ Jose F. Rodriguez, La Joya