NatalieSerrofog Phoebe Fosfer

"I love you," The three words had been said dozens of times throughout the time we spent 36 together, this time, it felt different. The words sent shivers through me, only because I knew it would be the last. "l love you too." I said as I sat straight up. He placed a small kiss on my forehead,then connected both of our foreheads together. I shifted away,placing my hand on the door,opening it into the pouring rain outside. As I jumped out,the rain surged onto me. "Thank you," was all I could muster as I waved and ran up the steps to my front door. He idled on the street to make sure I got inside. It was an end that was inevitable,sputtering out just as the engine of the'89 chevy had.

-Natalie Serratos

Joun

by Phoebe Foster

Never taught Yet genuinely simple Guiding hopefuls to disaster The power within is underestimated Noone can understand its full potential Unconsciously fending for our right to happiness Though tenderness is weak and detestation is strong Declarations for passion and resentment are very much alike We use hate perfectly and love destructively obsessing over oneself Contradiction for passion and resentment are very much alike Though detestation is short and tenderness is long Consciously forcing the world to challenge itself Everyone knows the strength it possess Fearing its opposers will triumph Feeding ID for satisfaction Hard to understand Life lesson Hate

37 thn$oil;ng$on

by lanine Pohlman

The cathedral breathed before the boy, Windows sighing like a moaning reed, Its fish maw gaping, licking,sucking Till he was entirely swallowed.

The boy, shagged and starved,was suddenly swept Under a thousand painted eyes That whispered in clacking bells, humming tomes, Praising choirs But he knew their judgment Absolute and hollow Like the ceiling that swallowed and sung They blinked on his back Crowned thorns over his temple

He was titled a false man He was void of faith. And to lift his head Against the beat of air Was the hardest pull Before his release From his leaf-in-the-gust fingers, Mlore rigid than the statue's stretched wings, He curled himself To stare Him in the eyes And snip his wings Pivot from grace And all holy things

With a whip and stumble Aworld had crumbled Under the arch of his bare feet With tired eyes and quaking arms

He was gone from the light of the Son and the Father

Where he crumpled before the velvet stairs Picking red threads between his teeth Even in the presence ofthe untouchables In their indescribable beauty His light had whimpered out Reaped and raped by their benign, stone lips

He was no longer a boy Yet he never knew Nor had the strength to understand Who had snuffed the light Or why he had been knocked Or what compelled him to shake Or how he had become so pale Or when his tears began to plot

-Emma Balma

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-Amelia Yu

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Every morning I wake up hoping to see you outside the window watering the dull flower garden, but I never do. It seems impossible to pull my lifeless body out of bed and into the garden. I am alone in this unlivable world with nobody protecting the thing I care most about. I try to reach my hands into the dirt until I reach the disappointed seeds and my fingertips plead for forgiveness. I want to travel back to when the dry clouds didn't hinder the searching sun with nothing to offer. I'm dragging myself through the dull garden path, forced to watch the poor helpless petals shrinking and decaying into the dried out mulch. The petals are trembling down to their unfortunately inevitable fate,but there's nothing I can do. You were the stormy nights that provoked destruction but at the same time sufficed the garden with the essential element that fed and protected it, and the sunlight that allows flowers to create the oxygen that I can't live without. When we first started the garden,you surrounded it with a silver wired fence and your dominant voice seemed to weed away danger and keep the slowly blooming flowers safe. But since you've been gone, the drooped fence has stunted their growth. Now, the powerless, innocent, and fragile flowers are vulnerable. They might become malnourished,dry,overfed,or maybe the filthy weeds will attack and leave them helpless. I can't do anything about it. All I know how to do is clean your mistakes. Like when I melted into the blue rocking chair while your addiction took over once again and your vomited pledges of regret travelled in and out of my ears,l was always there. Or how I drove you to the hospital after you used violence to assert your prominent ego more times than I can remember, I was always there. But really, it was the least I could do. I have always been your personal butterfly seeking to perch on your sweet nectar words,but you only supplied me with contaminated words that echoed whispers of unworthiness. Today,while I was running my hands through the dry desperate dirt,I connected with the roots and the soil. I understood them, and for an instant, I finally felt happier. Although, it was short lived when a bee's venomous stinger drilled into my exposed skin. It didn't hurt me nearly as much as your stings did; your stings that left iris imprints on my body and scars that binded to my skin like weeds to soil.

I don't think you ever truly wanted to hurt me, but with reassuring safety, comes a demanding price. I learned to pretend I was in my garden with the confidently flourishing flowers. While observing them display their full potential that is hidden behind their fearful sepals. But you snapped me out of it when your brute palm plunged into my blinded cheek. While I was patting down some rose seeds into the soil,l imagined you giving me a freshly picked velvety rose along with a repeated apology that held promising lies: "it will never happen again". Your compellingly sweet honey eyes made it easy to believe you.l always forgave you,knowing that your anger was merely a reflection of your care. In some ways your anger supplemented your devotion to the garden. I try to remember the good things like how every year on the first Spring day we would blow dandelions into the endless spring breeze and make hopeful wishes. Every time,l wished for the same