Author Archives: Patricia

Art of Leadership

So, I am several weeks into a program offered by my school called the Art of Leadership. It is the second half of the HELP program, which is short for Helping Emerging Leaders Progress. Every time I walk out of this program, I am stunned with hope for the future. I realize that if there are fifteen people on my campus who will make a change in this world as we grow up and get into the workplace, these are them. Then I realize, I am one of them. I can make a difference. And I think I will.

I’d like to leave you with my new mantra I made up on the first day of this program:

From the beginning I’ve been shy
But I know that someday I’ll learn to fly
As days go on and events unfold
I know I’ll someday

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Proofs In

Just an update: the other day two proof copies of my new book, Eggshells, came in the mail. It is my hope to complete everything by mid-September. So pleased.

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New Book

So, everyone,
A couple of months ago I disclosed at the PPAL conference that I was working on my second book. I have an order of the included poems, and am currently working on formatting. Keep watching for updates… I’m really excited.

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PPAL Conference… yet again

Today, my father Bob Larsted and I went to PPAL’s third annual conference. I had a blast with the youth track, and we managed to get our word out there to some exciting and interesting people. I have also announced that I have begun working on my second book.

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D is for Despair

D is for despair. Some days you wake up and can’t figure out just how you’ll get through the day. Days you can’t help but listen to the voices telling you that you’re worthless.

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The Night Sky

Brutal. All I can say.

The night sky is an ex-cutter
Similar to me
But like bread without it’s butter
Without cutting I just wouldn’t be

The proof comes from the stars
Way up in the sky
They’re like the nighttime’s scars
I know the night has tried

I have tried to kill myself
I have tried to bleed
I keep my razor on the shelf
Just in case I need

Surrounded by a smile
But frightened by the sound
Aimlessly wandering miles
Lost, and not yet found

So, am I really just like you?
Am I not so strange?
Are you also going through
Something we both know we can’t change?

Does the night make cutting seem alright?
Is it normal now?
Am I really like the night
At the final curtain bow?

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The World

“To the world, you may be one person, but, to one person you may be the world.”
–Found this quote on a wall. Good things come from walls.

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Get Out of My Head

Will you please just get out of my head
So I can finally go off to bed?
I’m trying to go on, but it’s just as well
That I admit that I’m going through hell.
My head is spinning, on and on
In this game of chess I am only a pawn.
Slits on my wrists, blood on my leg
Treading so careful, like on an egg.
So I try to go on, I try not to cry
I sit and I watch as these days go on by.
Sure I’ve got family, sure I’ve got friends
But are they the ones who will stay till the end?
Do they understand voices, the ones that I hear?
The ones in my head, but come in through my ear?
Spinning and spinning, going around
I think I was lost, I think I am found.
So, I hear voices, I think you get that
They tell me of blood, of a black, lonely rat
They tell me to cut, they tell me to cry
They tell me it’s the last time I’ll see the sky
They tell me I’m worthless, they tell me I’m bad
All that they tell me makes me so sad
The one thing I have against them is hope
I have hope I can climb this slippery slope
So, the days go on, I’m not in so much Hell
I used to be shy, but have come out of my shell.

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I Am That Girl

I am that girl
Who keeps her head down
I am that girl
Who hides from her frown

I am that girl
With the beautiful smile
I am that girl
You’ve known for a while

I am that girl
With sparkling eyes
I am a girl
With lows and with highs

I am that girl
You wish you knew
I am that girl
With mud on her shoe

I am that girl
You see all around
I am that girl
Who was lost but is found

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Karma… inside my head.

So, for any of you who don’t know, I live in Central Massachusetts. Not particularly near Boston, not particularly near Newtown, CT, but close enough. Also if you didn’t know, I’m in a play being put on by my school about children in war as soldiers. So, in light of the tragedies in Boston yesterday, I’d like to put you in my head, just for a minute.

I’m in class, and someone drops a book outside the door. What was that? Could it have been a gun shot? Should I hide under my desk, lock the door, protect my friends?

A flash goes off in the hallway. Is it the fire alarm? Should I prepare to vacate the premises? What of my belongings can I grab without being a hindrance to myself or others? Is it raining outside? Which stairwell is closest to where I am and the outside of the building?

Airplane overhead. Is it dropping a bomb?

Got a text. Is it a warning from the school about a bomb threat in the building I’m in?

The play doesn’t help. Guns of all shapes and sizes. Machetes. Pocket knives.

With my issues, I see patterns. Ones that aren’t there. But, my best friend lives near Newtown. Not really near, but not far. Another friend lives near Boston. How long before I hear about Michigan? Texas? Miami? And, the thing that’s freaking me out, my town. You can tell me it’s not going to happen here, that these things aren’t connected, but there will always be a part of me who won’t listen. A part of me that sees patterns that the rest of me knows is not there.

But, if more people were like me, could we possibly stop this?

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