Marian Burn Literary Arts Magazine Spring 2014

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“ubiquitous” [ bailee moylan ]

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prose

[ front cover ] “burning inside out” by sarah morse ‘16 [ table of contents ] “ubiquitous” by bailee moylan ‘14 [ 01 ] “larger than life” by kelsey o’connell ‘15 [ 02 ] “9,800 feet up” by maddie neppl ‘15 [ 04 ] “lines divided from eternity” by kelsey o’connell ‘15 [ 05 ] “squirt the turtle” by marissa schliesman ‘15 [ 05 ] “photogenic” by alexa horn ‘14 [ 06 ] “sunrise” by marissa schliesman ‘15 [ 07 ] “the red ribbon” by michaela stuart ‘14 [ 09 ] “uptown” by rosie gensichen ‘14 [ 10 ] “light graffiti” by jenna popp ‘17 [ 11 - 12 ] “majesty” by kelsey o’connell ‘15 [ 13 ] “agni fire” by marissa schliesman ‘15 [ 14 ] “sound waves” by araya santo ‘14 [ 15 ] “i’ll give you sunshine” by megan keyser ‘16 [ 16 ] “efflorescence” by julianna curley ‘15 [ 18 ] “sunrise over manhattan” by rachel walet ‘17 [ 19 ] “introspection and the medley of the bay” by honor fredrick ‘14 [ 21 ] “serenity” by maddie neppl ‘15 [ 22 ] “nature’s request” by sara kreski ‘14 [ 23 ] “flow” by julia tatten ‘15

[ 01 ] echo. by charlotte elsasser ‘15 [ 01 ] borrowed magic by alexa horn ‘14 [ 03 ] puppets by samantha gardner ‘14 [ 03 ] my shirt is on inside out . . . again by kenna silvey ‘15 [ 04 ] streetlights by claire davis ‘16 [ 05 ] acceptance by rachel walet ‘17 [ 06 ] daddy issues by kenna silvey ‘15 [ 07 ] the spectrum of visible light by amber bridgeford ‘15 [ 08 ] i have a word problem by susana pettis ‘17 [ 09 ] broken antenna by kenna silvey ‘16 [ 10 ] candles by emily welchans ‘15 [ 11 ] dreams of fluidity by julia tatten ‘15 [ 11 - 12 ] i love ocean metaphors by megan smith ‘15 [ 13 ] ctrl + z by araya santo ‘14 [ 14 ] moves like jagger by charlotte elsasser ‘15 [ 15 ] it’s me against the world by gwendolyn johnson ‘17 [ 16 ] 75¢ by ellie mulligan ‘17 [ 17 ] i want to put this to an end by mary hilton ‘15 [ 18 ] i write with love by megan smith ‘15 [ 20 ] spit on it by mary hilton ‘15 [ 21 ] if words were metal by maddie mingo ‘17 [ 22 ] revival by clara wertzberger ‘16 [ 23 ] promethean heat by francine garvey ‘15

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it’s better to BURN than to fade away

artwork [ 03 ] “ben folds” by roni perez ‘14 [ 08 ] “innocence” by emily kleinschmit ‘17 [ 17 ] “dislocation” by megan smith ‘15 [ back cover ] “censored” by tori stuckey ‘14

borrowed magic [ alexa horn ]

A piece of plywood, nailed between trees’ sprawling roots.

It wasn’t ours, but we dragged it from the mossy Orange Lake to this place, our fort in the forest.

Shadows from wind-shaken branches dance on the fort’s walls.

echo.

[ charlotte elsasser ] the question I’m asking is can you say “echo” without saying it twice can you follow in someone’s footsteps without leaving your own trail behind can you be in love without ever really knowing it the question I’m asking is can you die without ever knowing who you are

[ kelsey o’connell ]

“larger than life”

It’s not only a home for us.

It’s a bench, a boat,

sometimes a shelf holding magic jars. in that moment We built our fort in these trees— before the hands of death wring the life out of your washcloth soul their needles a shield from icy winds.

They are soldiers fallen do you know dry that you are you dead and of all the things you messed up in your brown extra

making the ground soft. ordinary life being you was never one of them.

These things are parts of our fort in the forest, Echo but when they’re gone, (Echo.)

I won’t be surprised; this Orange Lake and these brown needles aren’t really ours to keep.

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“9,800 feet up” [ maddie neppl ]

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streetlights [ claire davis ] I remember the morning it stormed.

We sat on the front porch at 3 AM. I asked you what it was like to be older.

You said you hadn’t known you were older.

I laughed.

You were silent.

“lines divided from enternity” [ kelsey o’connell ]

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p u p pe t s

A boy tied up and tied down by invisible strings, society’s views on normality, calls for evolution alone and uncertain.

It’s a whispered hope he gives, on perfectly painted lips, for understanding and open minds.

The kindly figurehead king more man than mannequin, calls for revolution.

Never alone and never uncertain.

It’s a strongly spoken hope he gives, on strangely stiff lips, for the end of his people’s isolation and uncertainty.

A girl, whose parents play puppeteer, swifty swishing strings in hopes of forced perfection, insists on rebellion, holding still like stone statue a little less alone and a little less uncertain.

It’s a softly spoken hope she gives, on unusually unpainted lips, for freedom and liberation.

Step by step, on stage they step.

All-knowing pawns in a doomed man’s game of bright minds and strong wits.

We see them held up, hung up, strung up, by marvelous marionette strings, both thick and thin.

n e b

“

[ samantha gardner ]

s”

f

d l o

ip n o [r

z] e r e

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Twisted twine forcing their heads held high and wrists wrapped in ruby rope.

They take control and steal their will, but not without a fight.

“Evolution, rebellion, revolution!” they scream.

Push and pull, twist and tug upon these strings they do, until they snip and snap and fall upon the ground.

They’d rather be still dolls than anyone’s puppet.

my shirt is on inside out... again [ kenna silvey ] We sat alone in a sonic parking lot I was drinking a grape slushie.

It was running out of syrup, So it was more of a flavorless chunk of shaved ice.

You asked if I was satisfied with my high school experience I was running out of grape.

We’re halfway done with high school.

Just ice.

Have we done anything important?

Just ice.

Have we done anything worthwhile?

Nothing.

acceptance

[ rachel walet ] everyone always says “be yourself” “do what makes you happy” “don’t worry about what other people think” but do they really mean this? because as soon as these encouraging supportive words are offered she does something they don’t like he says something wrong she decides to follow her dreams instead of following everyone else all expecting to be supported as promised accepted for who they are but cue the whispers and the stares and the painfully cruel laughs that come without even thinking instinctively because accepting people and who they truly are doesn’t just come with a simple spoken promise it takes conscious thinking and true compassion for other humans just trying to make it like we all are and it seems to me that we have a lot of these empty promises and even more whispers and stares and laughs than we do actual acceptance

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[ alexa horn ]

“photogenic”

[ marissa schliesman ]

“squirt the turtle”

[ marissa schliesman ]

daddy issues [ kenna silvey ] I tried going on tumblr once.

I logged off because it was full of pretty girls in dark lipstick with dark thoughts on tumblr wearing studded flannelI tried shirts going from Forever 21.once.

I logged offwith because was full of They got in a fight their itfather, pretty And they decided that followers were better company. girls in dark lipstick Reaching for cigarettes thoughts because they’re tired of reachingwith for dark the stars. wearing studded flannel shirts from Forever Those girls would rather feel the burning of ash in their lungs 21.

They of got in a fight with Hearts. their father, than the burning passion in their And they decided that followers were better company.

And I wonder, Reaching for blog. cigarettes how can they find solace in a “soft grunge” because they’re tired of reaching for the stars.

Keep scrolling.

Those girls would rather feel the burning of ash in their lungs I see pictures of teenagers in nirvana tshirts than the burning of passion their Hearts.

With ain caption And I wonder, “I hate everyone” how can they findThe solace “soft grunge” blog. angstin isa overwhelming scrolling.

They log in to Keep tune out.

I see pictures of teenagers in nirvana tshirts With a caption “I hate everyone” The angst is overwhelming They log in to tune out.

daddy issues

[ marissa schliesman ]

“sunrise”

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i have a word problem [ susana pettis ] I like to drown myself in words I like to float between sentences I like to dance across the pages I like to drink in the literature I love to escape my world And step into another one I love to leave the present And flee to a different life that isn’t mine I like to separate myself from my surroundings And meet new fictional people But why?

Why do I find fake people interesting?

Why do I attach myself and feel the pain of their problems?

Why do I sometimes prefer their lives over my own?

It’s because

“innocence” [ emily kleinschmit ]

I need the words I drown in, gasping for air I need the sentences I float between, in a state of bliss I need the pages I dance across, leaping and turning around the plot I need the literature I drink in like cold water after a long run I need them because without them, I wouldn’t feel as strongly as I do I wouldn’t love as much as I do I wouldn’t live as happily as I do And I wouldn’t be who I am: A girl with a word problem

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r brid

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light e

the s

At 14, I was in love.

With butterflies in my stomach I believed his false reassurance “I understand that you’re nervous and I’ll still love you either way” I thought it couldn’t get any better until he said “but this would make me love you more”

pect

rum

When I was 13 I met a boy who gave me wings He kissed me with tongue so I thought I was worth something we talked on the phone ‘til 5 in the morning.

Droopy eyes, sleepy whispers I finally felt beautiful encompassed in his voice.

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[ amb

When I was 12 years old my best friend slit her wrists to feel better, so I did too.

of vi

[ michaela stuart ]

sible

“the red ribbon”

The difference between being depressed and doing absolutely nothing is that one makes you feel like an asshole all the time and one means you are.

The difference between being in love and stealing someone’s love is that one makes you feel like an asshole all the time and one means you are.

candles

[ emily welchans ]

since childhood, i was told to wish on birthday candles and upon the first star of evening to dream large and beautiful and loud but i was also told as a child “if you tell anyone, it won’t come true!” knowing this i held my wishes back in the spaces between my teeth and burned like fire to tell somebody even if it meant losing the dream

[ jenna popp ]

“light graffiti”

i’m mostly grown up now mostly, but not quite so i still wish for impossible things with a tiny, mad hope that fate might seek me out and grant the lonely wish but nothing happens unless you make it so even if it never comes true: today, on my seventeenth candle, i wished for you

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[ rosie gensichen ]

“uptown�

broken antenna [ kenna silvey ]

Sorry if I've been distant lately.

My mind is just a bit fuzzy and I forgot to sleep last night.

See, my fears don't hide under my bed anymore, they inhabit the space under my eyelids.

I guess I didn't really forget to sleep, I forgot that I don't live in this world alone.

When the sun fades and I close my eyes My fears creep from under my eyelids to my brain and before I can stop it I'm blinded by anxiety and

what is this place is anybody else here there's no response the only sound is the static of my mind like a broken tv

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I am completely and utterly Alone.

There is a vast space only the light can fill.

So I'm sorry if I have been distant lately.

My mind is just a bit fuzzy and I didn't get much sleep last night.

11 But I won’t be this way forever.

I’ll grow up eventually.

And when I do, I’ll live underwater.

crash crash never consistent always changing that’s me a wave crashing crashing against the cliff crashing against the norm crashing against what i know i am a wave i am a force to be reckoned with i am a force that collides with the cliff consisting of everyone i know crashing crashing i crash into everything i crash into everyone they swim away from me i am left to crash within myself collapse within my waves my sea salt digging into my wounds inside the very depths of me collapsing crashing into myself i fold into a simmer of water and silence just exactly what everyone always wanted

[ megan smith ] crashing crashing i love crashing i love crashing waves i love ocean waves i love ocean metaphors i love ocean sides i love the ocean i love the crash crash, crash collide i love ocean metaphors because i am a continuous wave nobody will stand against me only succumb to me succumb to the crash crash crash of me the salty taste of me the taste of my bitter words bitter, broken me crash crash my tongue is overbearing words slip like beads of salt into your eye new wounds i want to lick clean with the ocean water surrounding the salt that makes me impure

i love ocean metaphors

dreams of fluidity [ julia tatten ]

The summer after fourth grade My mom took me to the pool And we were the only people there.

When I dove into the water, I was overwhelmed.

I had forgotten what swimming was like.

Being completely immersed in water, Every movement my body made Felt graceful.

When I was underwater I felt safe.

But I’m only human, And I couldn’t stay down there forever.

And that’s pretty much how my life goes.

I find a place where I feel comfortable, But it never quite works out for me in the end.

Because I let my limitations define me.

I let other people tell me what I can and cannot do.

I’m too afraid to question and challenge the way things work.

“majesty” [ kelsey o’connell ]

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“i’ll give you sunshine”

[ meghan keyser ]

it’s me against the world

[ gwendolyn johnson ]

´ I am the queen of cliches I am the brightest crayon in the crayon box I am the sharpest tool in the shed I am alone in a sea of people I know what it’s like to have my heart ripped to shreds Living half alive? That’s me Break my heart? I promise to love you with all the little pieces.

You see, I used to have a stuttering problem So my mom always told me to use my words.

But that was the problem: Thinking of the right words to use So instead I used other peoples’ words

I am a walking, talking book of quotes Take me as I am or watch me as I go You don’t know how strong you are, until being strong is the only choice you have Do what you are most afraid of Be who you are and say what you feel cause those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind.

Kill them with kindness Be yourself because everyone else is taken You only live once, but of you do it right, once is enough See? It was easier to use already thought up phrases then to create my own ´ Every poem I’ve ever written is filled to the brim with cliches Need a quick read about unrequited love? I’m your girl Want to hear about misunderstood teen angst? Call me

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´ So yes, I am the queen of cliches.

I am the prettiest flower in the bunch, I am the brightest star in the sky I am perfectly imperfect Feeling pain? Turn the page don’t close the book

75¢ [ ellie mulligan ]

[ julianna curley ]

“efflorescence”

Ignorance is bliss.

I didn’t believe this for a long time; For most of my childhood into my adolescence Until I looked around, until I realized the truth And now I know that ignorance is, in fact, bliss.

I know this because I cannot stand here peacefully With seventy-five cents in my hand while he holds his dollar With his expectance of my submission When I am working just as hard as he is And I am trying, trying my hardest to whittle down the wall our ancestors put in place two thousand and whatever years ago.

Only when I became informed did I see the inequality; Comforted to know that I belong to a new generation of game changing, limitless women.

But that does not make it any easier To know that I was raised to sit while he stands To know that I was born to exist in the margin of his superiority; To know that I grew up admiring skinny and pretty and dumb while he idolized muscular and strong and smart.

He was taught to be unapologetic, and I was taught to start every sentence with “sorry”.

I am not a servant.

I am a miracle, and a force of nature, and I will not - cannot live as a leftover.

I may be a mess of sinew and bones and thoughts that will never make sense But I am not the change left over from his dollar.

Not when I, too, earned every cent.

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i want to put this to an end [ mary hilton ] The average human heart weighs 300 grams.

Most days, mine feels much heavier.

When I woke up this morning, it felt like a freaking boulder.

And no matter how many times I vomited in the bathroom sink, there is still a 10 pound mass in the pit of my stomach.

I’m so burdened by the weight of all these things, that I’ve considered peeling off my skin just to lessen the load by 22 pounds.

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“dislocation”

[ megan smith ]

“sunrise over manhattan” [ rachel walet ]

i write with love

[ megan smith ]

To the planet I currently occupy; I have a habit of spacing off while I’m driving.

I pick fights with my dad and fall apart in front of my mother.

I take showers every day because I start to twitch at the touch of greasy hair.

I stay up past midnight almost every day, voluntarily.

I think about sneaking out consistently, but never seem to make it past the front door.

I leech off my parent’s money and spend it on junk food that I never even fully enjoy.

These are just a few things about me and you will find every single one unsatisfactory, disgusting, despicable, gut-wrenching, and most of all, imperfect.

You will sell me the ideal teenage humanoid, with eyes a deeper shade of shamrock green, skin a thinner layer than my own thick outer shell, the color of perfect tan to contrast my pale white hair a brighter mane of coffee brown and an overall exterior quality of a solid 9.

You will tell me I am imperfect while I’m driving in my dented Honda Civic

I somewhat-wrecked while heading home from school.

You will explain to everyone around me that I am imperfect in the same pair of blue jeans I’ve owned since last year around Christmas-time and the band T-shirt I got at an Owl City concert.

You will make an example out of my imperfection in the way I walk with a dazed stare, short stride, and frown of slight dissatisfaction with the world around me.

I will pass by you with nothing more than a cursory glance.

I will focus on the future in front of me, the one that does not include insecurity about my quirks that bend around me like broken pipes jutting out of every corner and crevice of my body the one that does not include failure in the form of a college dropout who thought tuition costs and the notion of failed dreams were something to fear the one that does not include you controlling who I am and what I will do.

I will live on the promise of something greater and you will hate me for it.

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“introspection and the medley of the bay” [ honor fredrick ]

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spit on it [ mary hilton ]

DEAR _ _ _ _ _ _, I CAN’T STOP THINKING ABOUT THIS THING, AND YOU PROBABLY WON’T CARE ABOUT THE THING (((I DONT BLAME YOU))), I JUST HAVEN’T TOLD ANYONE AND I FEEL LIKE IM GONNA EXPLODE FRICK I DON’T WANT TO GIVE EXPLICIT DETAILS ABOUT THE THING AS IT COULD POTENTIALLY RUIN EVERYTHING NO WAIT I REALIZED THAT NO MATTER HOW I TELL THE STORY THERE WILL BE TOO MANY DETAILS, UH THIS GUY YEAH, THAT’S A GOOD WAY TO START THIS THIS GUY HIS NAME IS [name removed] HE’S A PISCES (((THE FISH))) I WAS PARTICIPATING IN AN ACTIVITY WITH HIM I CANNOT TELL YOU THE EXACT ACTIVITY BECAUSE THAT WOULD GIVE AWAY TOO MUCH INFORMATION ABOUT THE THING HE’S VERY POPULAR I CANNOT TELL YOU WHERE OR WHY HE IS POPULAR BECAUSE THAT WOULD GIVE AWAY TOO MUCH INFORMATION ABOUT THE PERSON HE PARTICIPATES IN A PARTICULAR SPORT, MAYBE MORE THAN ONE SPORT BUT DEFINITELY AT LEAST ONE (((UPDATE: he plays two sports))) (((OF COURSE, I CANNOT TELL YOU WHICH SPORTS BECAUSE THAT WOULD RUIN EVERYTHING))) ONCE, HE MENTIONED ME IN CONVERSATION TO THIS OTHER DUDE !!!!!!!!!!!

NOTHING EXACTLY, IT ISNT EVEN, LIKE !!!!!!!!!!!

SCREW IT HERE IS WHAT HE SAID: “It’s a good thing I have Mary here to hold me back.

Otherwise, I’d pounce on you, like a jungle cat.”

AND I WAS LIKE !!!!!!!!!!!

MILDLY FLIRTACIOUS??!?!?!!

THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I SAID IN RESPONSE: “Oh my GOD.” (((I said that out loud))) THE GIRL STANDING NEXT TO ME SAID: “Mary, are you okay?”

BUT I WASN’T OKAY I WAS HALFWAY IN LOVE WITH THIS PERSON 37 MINUTES LATER, HE AND I WERE TALKING WE WERE PARTICIPATING IN AN ACTIVITY TOGETHER THAT I CANNOT SAY HE WAS TRYING TO BE REALLY GRACEFUL BUT WASN’T DOING A VERY GOOD JOB OF IT?!??!!

HE WAS, HOWEVER, BEING SO CUTE, AND IT MADE MY POOR LIL HEART WANNA EXPLODE THEN HE SAID SOMETHING ALONG THE LINES OF: “I would try to do ballet for you, but I don’t wanna embarrass myself.”

AND I REPLIED SOMETHING ALONG THE LINES OF: “I don’t think it would be embarrassing!”

THEN HE SORTA LAUGHED AND SMILED AND I SMILED THE MOST GENUINE SMILE I’VE PROBABLY EVER SMILED

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if words were metal [ maddie mingo ]

“serenity� [ maddie neppl ]

If words were metal would they slice through your skin like shrapnel every time you made a mistake or would they grow colder as the temperature of emotion rises conducting until things start to boil over If words were metal would they reinforce or simply retell stories that left dents in someone else If words were metal would we see more pots of soup or swords dwelling in our world

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Revive my insides, Look at me Tell me the person That you see Young and old, side-by-side Depression, redemption, be your guide Looking different, still the same Do these girls share just one name?

“nature’s request” [ sara kreski ]

Rosary rattler, crusade’s been won Distant student, the past is done Remember me, though trouble’s gone Learn my goodness, strike the gong High school troubled, focus right now Finish today, then take a bow For nothing’s the same and nothing will be For nothing’s the same inside of me Are they same, or are they not?

One volunteered and one must be bought.

revival [ clara wertzberger ]

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promethean heat [ francine garvey ] promethean heat this girl i know i know where she hides

and i know where she hides her razor blades and cigarettes these things she shouldn’t have things we shouldn’t have they’re in this beautiful beautiful like her pretty little music box

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it’s got this hidden part and it’s perfect for hiding all her secrets and she’s got this hidden part and she’s perfect and i’ll hide all her secrets

“flow” [ julia tatten ]

snapstaff

editorial policy

Marian presents Burn, a literary magazine that strives to showcase the original artwork, photography, and creative writing of our student body. Burn is published twice a year, once per semester and we accept submissions from all grade levels. Our submissions are judged anonymously and those that are selected are subject to minor grammatical or spelling corrections. Burn is a forum for creative student expression and our goal is to give students a place to publish their work and a place to have their peers appreciate their work.

Not pictured: Emma Fletcher Burn is printed by Automatic Printing Company. For the 2013-2014 school year, there will be 800 copies per semester. All titles of pieces and page numbers are set in FFF Tusj font. The text of the stories are set in Geo Sans Light.

The softwares used were Adobe InDesign CS6 and Adobe Photoshop CS6.

Marian High School 7400 Military Avenue Omaha, NE 68134 burn@omahamarian.org

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