Kept Mistakes

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Hiram College Literary and Arts Magazine
"Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing which ones to keep." —Scott Adams

April 26, 2014 at 10:58am
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Volume 1 Issue 1 is HERE!

The first issue of Kept Mistakes finally exists in tangible, three-dimensional, dead-tree form!  

(cover photograph by Maya Watkins, class of 2017)

It wasn’t exactly an easy path to get here (we won’t talk about the first box of dead trees that went to waste), but the important part is that we made it.  

FREE copies will be available for members of the Hiram community, so hurry before they’re gone!  (The magazine is not available to the public at this time.)  

We want to say a big thank you to everyone who submitted their art and everyone who supported us along the way.

—Katie, Maya, Robin, Jess, and Quinn, the editors of Kept Mistakes

(drawing by Katie Starr, class of 2015)

April 6, 2014 at 10:55pm
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As I sit here crying

As I sit here crying, thoughts go through my head
And to myself I’m lying when I sometimes wish I’m dead
I ask why and why and why, when I’ve felt such little strife
That pain should come and try to ruin my good life
Sometimes I wish for the simplicity of the struggle of life and death
Something clear and defined that could end in a final breath
But this world has no absolutes, no simple black or white
Nothing is straight forward, no enemy to fight
Now is a war against myself, a war that can’t be won
The war of arbitrary complex things that I know must be done
I ask myself some questions, as tears roll down my face
As if the rain is falling, with just a little grace
Why do I cry for little things, why do I cry at all
When there has been much worse than anything I recall?
I know that pain could be much greater, agonies on agonies
So why should I cry at this, not even close to tragedy?
Life and love is all around me, death is far away
So why does pain surround me on this arbitrary day
Why should I be allowed to cry, when my life is in such peace
When every day others die and their pain has fin’lly ceased?
As I sit here crying, the tears lift me up again
Once more through that cycle that I hope will soon end


April 4, 2014 at 11:10am
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I don’t understand
Why love can be lost
Why tragedies happen
Why life can be most difficult
But most of all
Why people just can’t accept each other
Why dreams on occasion can be sweeter than reality
Why wishes don’t always come true
What I understand most is
Why we become friends and lovers
Why summertime is full of liberty
Why we are sad
Why no matter what, it will always get better

Quinn Thompson, class of 2017

April 2, 2014 at 11:05am
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Every Time

They ask.
Is it worth it?
I know
every time it gets harder.
They say
it’ll get easier.
They lie.
Every time it gets harder.
Leaving my friends, my family, and my city
feels like cutting off parts of my body.
But leaving you
feels like I’m cutting out my heart.
They say it’ll get easier.
I don’t believe them.
Every time it gets harder.
Is it worth it?
I ask.
Every time.

Kayla Kennedy, class of 2016

March 30, 2014 at 10:50pm
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I sit quietly and listen
When I hear her voice through the crowd
It must be the voice of an angel
So soft and quiet, so beautiful a sound
That only the fabled seraphim could have made
My eyes dare to follow what my ears had heard
And they now confirm what my mind had seen
An angel walks among us.
Her face the most gorgeous thing I’ve seen
Eyes alight with delight
And although ‘tis not proper, I admit I look lower
The rest of her as gorgeous her face
I force my head to turn away
Afraid to stare too long at heaven’s creature
And this glance away gives me a shade of doubt
Was it not so long ago when I thought that of another?
And here she happens, just aside, and now, no feeling towards her
My palms are dry, my heart at rest, when I look upon her now
Where earlier my mind would race, whenever her face showed
Now the angel makes my stomach curl in love and want
How can it be that love can change so fast
That at a simple glance
My heart moved from my maiden to my angel?
O, my heart why must you be so fickle?
Why must you change your gaze to new beauty
Almost, it seems, as the moons change
My maiden, the most glorious thing I had ever seen, as beautiful as ever
Now seems to pale before the angel
How can I trust you, heart, when your limerence changes so?
How can we find that fabled “one” for us, when your one has changed so often?
My heart, I ask, nay beg, just once stay your course
Let us follow a dream and give us future
With one we truly fully love.


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Calls me like the wind.
Open the esophagus!
Out pours moss spasms,
Green envies; bird shells;
Twicks and Tweats of nature.
Kill all the lions,
Unrattle the butterflies.
Here comes the drummer,
Rain beating on my window…
Let the light flood in.

Kelly Heikkila, class of 2015

March 29, 2014 at 2:17pm
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Have you ever understood why I am me?
Wanting my freedom like whispering wind in a field
Striving to be who I really want to be
But you see me as concealed
I know you, but are you completely aware?
Of whom I am where I seem to roam
I need you like I need a fresh breath of air
So catch me, before I finally go home

Quinn Thompson, class of 2017

March 27, 2014 at 2:19pm
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We all want to be here on some level
But for some, being away is harder.
I know this is what I need for the life
that I have always wanted for myself.
I just miss my family, friends, and home.
And here, we are thrown into a new place,
A new environment with new people.
And it’s hard, harder than I would have thought.
For some, it is easy, but not for me.
Some days are a struggle, balancing life,
this new life, I have been given. It’s tough.
The class work and homework are challenging,
and for the first time in life, I’m alone.
I have to make my own decisions now.
I have to wake myself up, make sure I
eat, manage my schedule, and get by.
But it is worth it and we all know it.
I have found the right place to spend my time.
My time here might not be perfect, but still,
I love it. Even if it’s bittersweet.

Kayla Kennedy, class of 2016

January 24, 2014 at 11:03am
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At what point does one wish for the warm Embrace of death, due to the cold of life.
at what point does the fulfillment of hate quench better the soul than the pursuit of love.
at what point is justice ruled upon by the evil man, as the truly just rot
at what point does Earth become Hell, and Hell paradise.
       at the point where enough is only the beginning

Jamal Hill, class of 2017

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The beckon of wilderness,
at times I wish I were an animal, so that my only worry be to eat and not be eaten.
Or maybe a tree, so my only fret would be standing tall and still.
rather the ground, so my existence be only fulfilled by lying and walked upon
how easy life would be if I weren’t a man, then again man does tend to have a way of stealing innocence …even from those things that inherently  cannot be robbed.
 But i wonder if the birds above, which are able to escape the worries of earth are confronted with decision,or if their entire lifetime is just a sort of auto-pilot… literally cruising thru existence with all encounters and reactions pre told by nature.
 And The truly sad thing is I have nothing to truly be tired about, yet I tire of life. I do not wish for termination , rather transformation so that I may see….as things and creatures see… even if only for a tick.Imagine that, a life time in a tick,  Only if things weren’t as they were … Only if I could experience rebirth .

Jamal Hill, class of 2017