Persephone Volume 1, Reflections 2023

Reflections

Persephone is the official literary magazine of Marietta High School. Originally published in 1939 under the name The Scroll, the book included poems, short stories and artwork. Much of The Scroll’s history is lost, with only one copy of the book remaining, decaying away with time. The literary journal was revived in 1978 as Reflections. Running for 15 years, the journal was produced by the Marietta High School graphic arts program. With the last issue printed in 1993, Chiaroscuro was born in the 1994 school year. Unfortunately, “Chiaroscuro” ran for two years, and we believe it was the last publication until now.

In remembrance of the prior title of the literary journal of Marietta High School, we chose the theme “Reflections.”

The word reflection has many meanings…

The Persephone team decided reflections is the act of looking fondly on past events. This in turn, makes us strive to become better people, and to make improvements on past occurrences, leading up to our death.

We go through phases: The begining of life with birth, the time of existence, then slowly approaching departure. Our book follows the theme of light to dark. People don’t only reflect at one moment in their lives; they reflect throughout it. We look at the good and the bad moments and change to become better.

Persephone Volume 1 2023

Marietta High School

1171 Whitlock Avenue

Marietta, Georgia 30064

Cover Artwork “RGB” by Christopher Keith

Adviser- Andrea Lyons

Editor-in-chief- Sydney Martinez

Team Members- Ada Chesney, Wesley Harrison, Joel Hernandez, Nora Krawczyk, Callie Lario, Quinn Mulkey, Layne Roberts, Naima Robinson, Abdallah Saad

Managers- Victoria Barnes, Ashley Morelli, Ariel Robinson

Table of Contents

Division Page - Birth

Floral

Untitled

You Were a Sculpture, and I Was a Vine Bunnies and Carrots

Embracing life

Beige and Red Bird

Beige and Red Bird

Balance; “Like all magnificent things, it’s very simple.”

Floral Kissed

Nakiyah Roberts-Dunn

no - Faye. 7

Faith Ojo

There is nothing greater than the ability to love.

to feel it, to share it, to show it to others and yourself looking back on the times you’ve loved and been loved and looking forward to the times you’ll be loved having someone to love, to smile with, to look at feel happiness being someone able to be loved, capable of receiving and cherishing it appreciating love and all its forms, all its types, all its personalities love is different for everybody and yet love has always been the same love has endured centuries of life, passed on through stories and hugs and photos and kisses love can be found in the tiniest of places love is the food of humans and species alike feeling love and receiving love and giving love and knowing what love is is a privilege

Love is the greatest of all things.

Dear Mirror

I, the one who created you

A figure of my imagination

Feel like you have somehow snuck yourself into my reality

If only you really existed then you could be the one laying beside me instead of this man who continues

To use and abuse me.

This man, full of my depression and anxieties

My hopes, my dreams, my lost, my madness

This man that lays beside me believes he is irreplaceable

But if you could sneak yourself into my reality

It would be you by my side and not him

I’ve been told it’s not good to talk to yourself too much

“Everyone talks to themselves, but only when you answer yourself you’re crazy”

Is that you talking or have I finally cracked?

Is it possible for you to be here by my side and not him?

Even if you’re not here I think I’d rather be alone. I can’t breathe with him around.

- Dear mirror,

Layné Roberts

You Were a Sculpture, and I Was a Vine

Ella Salter

Sculpture, and a Vine

I was a vine

That crawled into your arms

Your gentle, cradling arms

That embraced me

When no one else would

You were a sculpture

Hardened to stone

Weathered by the world

Standing strong

With no other choice

Others that came upon you hissed

Words of torment

Words of laughter

They whispered, they wondered, and they pointed their fingers

But not I, no

My sisters and my brothers

Were cut and torn away by the world

Their roots burnt from the ground

In the name of defense

Because the world would much rather

Have their garden hold the beauty

Of roses

Of lilies and azaleas

Than be plagued by the ugliness they claim to be

Of my sisters’ and brothers’ leaves

But you and I were only ever gentle

I pulled myself from the earth

And you allowed me to settle in your lap

My thorns didn’t prick your stone

And you spoke of my leaves with love

And in return

I offered an antidote for your loneliness

And when I clothed you in my vines

The world’s judgmental words

And pointing fingers

Needn’t matter anymore

Maria Pedraza Taylor Prince

Embracing life

Nakiyah Roberts-Dunn

My Chosen Family

Libby Barnes

The phrase, “You chose your family,” has always stuck with me. I have my given family and my chosen family. Two families that I love the most. One of my best friends, Abby, said that specific quote during a moment of vulnerability. We were sitting with the lights off, in our dance studio, in a circle, and everyone was being vulnerable with one another. At that moment I knew I had found my chosen family. The family that I had grown up with. With some members gone, and new ones along the way, I had found the people I could confide in. The people that I knew I could trust with my deepest darkest secrets. This family was given to me from dance, from our shared love of expression through movement. I would never be where I am without those people, that night, in that circle. My chosen family forever.

Dance has always been a part of my life. I met my dance teachers when I was 18 months old because their mom was teaching me how to swim. They have become nothing less than second mothers to me. They encouraged my mom to put me in dance classes. At age three I was in a dance studio taking recreational ballet and tap classes and the next thing you know I’m hooked. I have never left because I have always felt safe. No judgment, nor cruelty, just safe. At around 8 I took the big step of joining the “company” at my dance studio. It was a more intense route, where I would learn multiple new dances every semester to perform at our very own recital. I was able to take more classes and have more opportunities to dance. In my recreational class, I would usually dance with friends from school or family friends, so I never took the step of finding new friends. Then, when I moved up to a company, I found

friends that would end up being some of the longest friendships I have created. Walking into “company”, nobody from my school was there so it was different trying to find friends, but it didn’t take very long.

As a kid, I didn’t realize the value that friendship holds or how much I would appreciate having people that didn’t go to my school to talk to. As I got older my original group in dance got separated. Some of us had moved up to the next level before others causing a split in our group. The one person who was by my side the entire time was Ruby. She and I were inseparable. I could always talk to her because I would always know she would be there. Every year we moved up, we would move up together, creating a bond like no other. As we both reached the top group, it was hard on both of us because we had nobody but each other because just like our first year, our group had been split up. It was a territory that was scary and new. The only thing we had that was a constant, was each other. She was always my partner across the floor, always the first person I talk to, and the person I stand next to at the barre. She is one of the funniest people that I know and will always be. Ruby was the first member of my chosen family.

That same year we had a new dancer in the studio. Her name was Abby. She was three years older than me so I had never assumed she would even talk to me. She would hang out with the other girls around her age and I didn’t think much of it. Then we started talking in class. Talking led to texting out of class, and texting led to becoming best friends. That year we would end up having

deep conversations with one another, quick rides to fast food restaurants between classes, and hanging out for hours on weekends. At a point in time, there was never a moment when we weren’t together. She, Ruby, and I became a little group of friends and Abby would call us her “little freshmen,” because Ruby and I were freshmen when we all met. Abby has been an older sister to me because I never had one. I’ve gone to her for advice about everything. Boys, school, life, etc. She was a person I could tell all my secrets to and she would never tell a single soul. Abby was the second member of my chosen family.

Then came the year when we were all reunited. Our very first little group of friends from “company” was back together again. I was able to rebuild some of the friendships that had fallen apart because of the separation. One of the first people that I immediately reconnected with was Jaclyn. We had been friends before but never as close as we are now. I was so incredibly happy to be back in a group with her and she was as well. We became inseparable from the moment we came back together. She knows every single little detail about my life and she helps me with any problem I have. We will text constantly throughout the day and she never fails to make me laugh even when I’m at my lowest. One thing that I will treasure forever with her is a quote that we call ours. I have always been a Taylor Swift and she got into Taylor Swift specifically during her 8th album folklore. In one of her songs, seven, she uses the lyric, “Love you to the Moon and to Saturn.” That quote had always stuck with me since I heard the song. So as Christmas was approaching I wanted to get her a really meaningful gift. Her favorite album is folk-

lore, so I decided to get us matching Moon and Saturn necklaces as a reference to that song. We both wear that necklace constantly as a reminder of who we have in our corner, supporting each other and cheering each other on when we need to. Jaclyn was the third and maybe the most important member of my chosen family.

As the years have gone by, I have gained more people in my chosen family, and each and every person I consider family has been put there for a specific reason. I never want to consider someone family and then break my trust in them. There is a difference between friends and chosen family. I will always put my chosen family first because I know they would do the same thing for me. I will cherish any type of family, whether it’s given or chosen. Family is one of the most important things for me. I can talk to them, confide in them, and trust them whenever I need to. I am lucky enough that I grew up with a loving family of my own who I will love and they will forever be my first family. Some people aren’t as lucky and those people I want to remind you: “You choose your family.”

Beige and Red Bird

Naima Robinson

The day has finally come. You’re finally leaving the bird’s nest. You’ve waited 1,461 days for this day and prepped and prepared for this moment. You have made it this far because of your hard work and dedication, and we salute you. Although this journey has ended, plenty of new ones are just beginning.

Balance

Abdallah Saad

Balance is needed so you may Have time to dance.

Sometimes stress likes to Make your pace go away.

You may not have time For friends Because peace of mind Is better.

You make your decisions. But the wave is the one that floats Your boat.

“Like all magnificent things, it’s very simple.” Noleé Simon

Summer Nights

Alafair Persons

Solar Eclipse

An eclipse, It’s a love story.

It’s when the sun and moon touch lips. It’s when they finally get to see each other, After only seeing a glimpse.

Danielle Isom

Untitled Joel Hernandez

Who am I?

Who am I?

I personally don’t know

To some, I’m a 17-year-old with too much on her plate

To others, I’m a 17-year-old who asked for everything that makes her so great And should stop being lazy

But what if I’m feeling hazy?

Okay, back to the question

Who am I?

Well, I think I’m a 17-year-old who really enjoys fashion

When I finally get a chance to go out and show my creativity I completely block out the negativity It makes me feel ecstatic My creativity just feels automatic What was the question again?

Right, who am I?

Let’s see, I’m a 17-year-old with a perfectly healthy obsession for dance I make at least three whole choreographies a day

They never get me anywhere, no matter what emotion they may convey But that’s okay with me

Because I mainly dance to feel free

Could you please remind me what the question was?

Who Am I?

Hm, well, I’m a 17-year-old girl who feels the need

To proceed through life without crying in front of people

I’m a 17-year-old girl who is very willing to help others feel better

But doesn’t say much about herself, however

I’m a 17-year-old girl who, one minute, loves everything about who she is

Then, the next minute, she performs an emotionally-harming self-analysis

Does that answer your question?

No?

Don’t you get it?

I’m a 17-year-old girl, that’s it

There’s not much I need to admit

I know I can be confusing

Even I get lost in the thoughts I keep producing But you know what?

That’s okay

I’m allowed to feel that way

But what I’m not allowed to do

Is let people think they can take over my thoughts, I grew

So who am I?

I’m someone you simply can’t deny

I’m Noleé

And my plate is doing okay at the moment

Noleé Simon

Wind

Layné Roberts

Fika

Noleé Simon

I like the way it molds my skin

Through my steps I can feel my breaking

Where behind me a shape has been left

Curved just like me

No features No skin

No smile or emotion

Just a remembrance of where I have been

It pushes it pleads

For me to turn around

Go the way of the wind

But I pray and step

Making my own path

Where others have traveled

They’ve passed through

They have made it

And I’m going to join them

The wind like my mother

Who wants the best for me

Shouts for me to go back

Where it pushes to Is safe but old But where I push I can mold

My dreams my life

My new experiences that calls me

The wind like my doubts and my fears I clamp my ears shut from them and I move

The wind like my friends I have to leave behind

Who can’t see the world we can have Those who don’t want to fight for it

The wind like the stories I will tell Of my journey through the fog Of when I made it.

Under my Ribs

Ella Salter

Remember when our breath

Combined in the air?

With the echo of excited conversation

And the words we’ve exchanged so innocently?

My chest holds them under my ribs

Sidled next to my beating heart

And I’m too selfish to share them even when They aren’t even mine But I can’t help it

And when my heart beats

It thumps into your words

Vibrating into my bones

To my hand that holds a pen

You’ve always said you’re half the poet I am But you have no idea how much of you Are in the ink of my pages

I could write about anything

Hell, I’d do anything to be able to write

How much I love the sunset

But the sunset will always be here

And it’s easier to write poetry

About something that’s left me behind

Image by Danielle Isom

EL RESPETO

RÍe, pero no de los demás Exprésate sin hacer daño con tus opiniones. Sé fuerte, pero no humilles a otros. Puedes pensar distinto, los demás también. Espera de los demás de lo que eres capaz de dar. Ten encuenta las ideas de los compañeros. Observa a tus semejantes pero no critiques.

Paulino López Castro

Insomniac

In the cluttered, disgusting room of JOHN SLEEPYHEAD, he lies on his bed, face blasted by the blue light of his phone. To the side of him, the next date on his calendar reads ‘IMPORTANT: driver’s test, 6:45 am’.

John rolls over on his bed towards his digital clock on his bedstand, seeing it read ‘11:00 pm’. Fifteen minutes past when he was supposed to fall asleep.

Sighing, John closes his phone, plugs it in and tucks himself in. Closing his eyes, he tries his best to fall asleep.

In his bed John, uncomfortable, wiggles and re positions himself in his sheets over and over, time turning into both a blur and a crawl.

After what seems like an eternity, John murmurs and pries his eyes open. The clock stares back at him antagonistically, reading “12:00 am”. John looks to his nightstand, seeing an empty cup.

Groaning, John grabs it and walks out of his room.

John shuffles through his hallway with his cup. He considers walking to the kitchen to get water, but instead goes into his much closer bathroom to use the bathroom sink.

John stumbles into his bathroom, placing the cup down. In the mirror, his own reflection breaks off from himself, grimacing at John.

MIRROR JOHN

Face it, Jonathan! You’re gonna die before you get to drive!

John slowly reaches for the faucet, turning it on and filling up the cup.

JOHN SLEEPYHEAD

You don’t scare me!

MIRROR JOHN laughs, dumping the reflection of the water into the sink.

MIRROR JOHN

Of course I do! For what can be more horrifying than yourself?!

John turns off the faucet and pauses to think.

JOHN SLEEPYHEAD

A bear.

1 INT. JOHN’S ROOM - NIGHT 1

2 INT. JOHN’S HALLWAY - NIGHT 2

3 INT. JOHN’S BATHROOM - NIGHT 3

Holden Chalfant

Mirror John drops his cup.

MIRROR JOHN

That was meant to be a rhetorical

John nods along, as if he understands his doppelganger.

JOHN SLEEPYHEAD

(confidently)

Two bears!

MIRROR JOHN

Silence! You’re not going to be able to fall asleep! You hear me?!

John chugs the water, slams down the cup and leaves through the door.

Snug and secure in his bed, John closes his eyes. For a few precious moments, he drifts away. Then, his eyes snap open.

John loudly weeps, voice muffled by his bathroom door and competing with the sound of something streaming into toilet water. Then, the sound of flushing.

John solemnly stares at his cackling reflection, pulling down the toilet seat.

See John, you’re nothing! Just stare at your phone instead of sleeping, already!

John opens the door again, failing to pay Mirror John no mind. John gulps before leaving.

John walks to his bed, and glances at his phone. He picks it up, and begins to scroll. His eyes naturally draw themselves to its clock. 1:00 am. Sighing, John closes his phone and sits onto his bed. Instead of going straight to sleep, he begins to breathe deeply. Slowly, his chest rises up and down, battling against the sounds of the world outside. His hands stop trembling. He thinks he can do this.

4 INT. JOHN’S ROOM - 4

5 INT. JOHN’S HALLWAY - NIGHT 5

6 INT. JOHN’S BATHROOM - NIGHT 6

MIRROR JOHN

7 INT. JOHN’S ROOM - NIGHT 7

8

Outside of a driving course, in his car, John groggily pulls forward to the side of the DMV, unlocks his car and rolls down his passenger side window.

JOHN SLEEPYHEAD

Sorry in advance. I didn’t get any sleep last night.

A bear peers through the window, opening the door. John silently trembles in fear. The bear crawls into the passenger side seat and puts on its seat belt, growling at John.

JOHN SLEEPYHEAD (trembling) A second instructor? Okay...

A second bear opens the door, climbing into his backseat. John shrieks. The first bear roars at John.

JOHN SLEEPYHEAD Drive into the wall?! Al-Alright!

John moves his foot to the acceleration petal, but stops.

JOHN SLEEPYHEAD ... wait. This is a Nightmare!

John pumps his fist, laughing gleefully!

JOHN SLEEPYHEAD Yes! Yes! Yes! I’m alseep! I’m asleep! I’m asl

9

John’s blaring alarm forces him up. Fully rested, John moves to turn it off. John sees it, then checks the date on his calendar. He overslept the test by four hours. Wistfully, he rolls back into bed, hitting snooze on his alarm.

EXT. DMV - MORNING 8

INT. JOHN’S ROOM - MORNING 9

Oni Mask

“Come with me,” I said.

I held my hand out, but could feel their pain by their response. They shuffled back from me, grasping their own hand. A demon mask covered their face, an oni mask. Meant to scare away the bad, yet the one underneath it carried it.

“Things can change,” I cried.

I’d hope to show them the meaning of forgiveness, or purity they had dreamt to live in another life. But, I could tell they were terrified. With every inch forward I took, they stepped back one. It was a calm chase, and during it all I thought of the times I had run from them. I thought of what could have happened to them to make them the perpetrator. To feel like becoming the evil was the only way out.

“Come on,” I insisted.

My voice jumped from the anticipation, I could hear the sirens approaching us, and in the corner of my eye I could see flashing lights emerging onto the abandoned lot. Then a slam of a door, they were here. I couldn’t play the patient game anymore, I leaped forward heading for their hand, but they jerked back, losing their balance, slipping and hitting their head on a shelf.

They grunt from the pain, but won’t let any other emotion slip from their mouth. Their mask cracks and a large chunk of it falls to the ground, but they manage to clamp the remaining onto their face before it follows. I watch as the fallen fragment rattles against the floor until finding peace and resuming our stunned silence, when I look up, I meet their face. She stares at me with terror filled eyes, I move forward, but she flinches, covering her face and running. I jump to my toes, ready to follow when the doors are busted through. I cease, as the lights they brought swarm the once dim lighted room.

“Freeze,” they shout.

“They’re gone,” I murmur, as the mask they left behind grabs my attention. I crouch down to get a closer look.

“What’s the next lead?” One of them says, approaching me from the back.

I stay silent, because I don’t know how to feel, nor what to say. I can’t tell if they should stay a person that we chase so mercilessly. Rather if I want to.

My hand wipes at the mask’s new found cracks, but quickly retracts, as flowers start to weave its way through it. They blossom into an assortment of flowers, colorful and bright, nearly making the mask seem beautiful.

Layné Roberts

Floral Inferno

Sydney Martinez

Dona Morta

Sophia Nunes Guimaraes

Dona morte eu não sei sobre o amor

Eu sei sobre a dor

Aquela que dilacera seu peito

Machuca sua cabeca

E culpa assim mesmo por existir

Por isso eu estou aqui

A maioria tem medo de você

Eu nao

Eu queria ser você

O fim

O fim de tudo

Todos querem o começo

Mas eu

Eu nao

Eu só queria o fim

O fim de tudo

O fim da sua dor

Sixteen

Jeiah Johnson

Lost in time Lost in my mind

Lost in the era of being found

Desperate to be found Desperate to been seen For life to acknowledge me, I breathe too, you see!

An empty epiphany Do my successes mean nothing? Do I live to stay hidden behind

In the curtains of my mind See me! I beg of you I promise I’m worth it

Don’t be scared to uncover it, my life belongs in the eye of the beholder

I no longer feel lost alone but lost within our souls

Voglio essere nei tuoi occhi, amore <3

no - Faye. 78

Ojo, Faith

The shine of the stars feels two touches away within reach of a hand too short or a man too lazy waiting to shine on the people of its planet and traveling the skies until it has the opportunity rays flowing in the nothingness of space reaching cold souls with cold hearts who’ve been looking for a couple of rays of love

the planet has not seen its stars for eons and eons ages and ages of touches out of reach and reaches out of touch its star is busy traveling the skies waiting for its planet’s tides to become peaceful before it dares to shine its rays.

La curación

Jennifer Nino Hernandez

La curación nunca fue fácil no saben el dolor que siento Todo lo que simpre he querido es ser amado Nuestra generación no proporciona eso.

La personas de buen corazón se amargan constantemente No demuestres que te importa porque te lastimarás No mostrar sentimientos te vuele indiferente ¿Por qué debemos hacernos pasar por esto?

¿Que pasó con el amor verdadero? Todo somos humanos con un propósito

I wish I had more wall sockets so I wasn’t sad all the time

Theo Holland

I have a UV lamp. I don’t use it.

Because I’ve got just four wall sockets and my computer needs charging or it’ll yell at me and I’ll be sadder.

And my space heater needs to be there too to burn zippers into my legs—

I should really get pants without.

And the little robot lady —not a robot—robots move—remember? —who sits on my desk and never complains any more Than I do.

And I need to have one socket open so I don’t feel like I’m going to die so I don’t plug in my UV lamp and I’m sad all the time.

Untitled Christopher Keith

Blue Green Sydney Martinez

Drowning

1. INT.Performance Hall - Night

Esdras Millan-Nava

We are at an awards show. On stage, a man appears to be giving an acceptance speech(holding an award proudly). This is our protagonist, EZEKIEL.

EZEKIEL

I just want to thank everyone again for being there for me from the start, Especially…

He signals to the crowd with a particular row in mind. This is the row filled with his entourage; Friends, Family, His agent. You would expect him to be thanking all of them, but his undivided attention is on the chair that has been empty all night. He had been hoping she’d come. Ezekiel appears to be sweating profusely.

EZEKIEL Especially me.

He raises the award disingenuously as his attention is still on the empty chair. The focus then turns back to him, still standing on the podium, but he appears to be choking. Water is coming out of his mouth, and his clothes are completely drenched.

Match cut to:

2. EXT. Small boat - Evening

Ezekiel coughs out the last bit of water from his lungs as it seems he’s been rescued by an unknown woman who puts a towel over his head. She has a sweet voice.

UW

I almost lost you back there. Are you ok?

Ezekiel, who is drying himself off with the towel, responds to her.

EZEKIEL Yeah, I don’t even know why I jumped in. I hate the wat…

After removing the towel from his head, Ezekiel is shocked because he recognizes this woman. It’s…

EZEKIEL

It’s you. You weren’t at the ceremony.

YARA

Yeah? And you weren’t there that morning.

EZEKIEL

I know, and I never apologized for that. What I did was imma…

A large ship starts sailing nearby and catches E’s attention. Before he can finish his sentence, Ezequiel is teleported.

Match cut to:

3. Ext.Large Ship - Evening

EZEKIEL (cont’d)

-ture

Ezekiel is now face to face with another man. This man was in the crowd at the ceremony; he is eccentrically dressed and always talks with a grin. The ship appears luxurious.

LUCI

Immature? No such thing. On this ship, you can do and have anything you want. Ezekiel looks around with frustration.

EZEKIEL How’d I get up here?

LUCI

Well I saved you, that’s how. Don’t worry this ship is guaranteed to keep you from drowning as it’s far above the water

LUCI looks overboard with disgust and contempt on his face

LUCI(Cont’d) -and anything it may contain.

Ezekiel

Well I appreciate your help but I assure you I’m fine. Now if you don’t mind I must get down there at once to take care of some business.

LUCI

Go down? You can’t go down there

Ezekiel

Can’t? You said I can do whatever I want.

LUCI

Yeah. On the ship.

Ezekiel (with anger)

YOU CONNIVING LITTLE SH

LUCI

If you want off then fine.

Luci stabs E with his cane and then pushes him off the ship. E’s corpse is now sinking into the ocean’s depths, blood pouring out his wound. He is then saved by YARA, who blows a bubble onto his head so that he can breathe once more. She seems unaffected by the water.

EZEKIEL Hey again.

YARA

(sarcastically)

I thought you didn’t like the water.

EZEKIEL

Haha. I never got to apologize. What I did was immature. I should’ve never left you like that, and for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.

YARA I know.

YARA then begins to laugh as if she was just told the funniest joke, Ezekiel asks her what’s so funny, but she just swims away laughing. Ezekiel is unaware of the irony of his being underwater. He was never afraid of the water, just drowning. He is shown floating, blood still pouring out his wound.

Cut to:

4. Int.Bedroom - Morning

Ezekiel is shown in bed alone. He awakens with a gasp and immediately reaches where he thought he was wounded. To his surprise, there’s nothing. He then grabs his phone and dials a number while putting on his glasses.

Ezekiel Hey. We should talk.

Orbiting to You

Kharmen Philemon

As I stood in the tallgrass prairie, catching my breath

I felt her touch with me

In the growling wind echoing in my ear

Her voice following me through the depths of my mind

Through the fields of green and occasional yellows

In the ruffles of the dark green trees in the distance

I remember how her love wrapped within my heart keeping me safe and warm

Her sweetness flowed inside me, in my veins, through my blood, leaving me breathless

Her voice, a harmony I could never sing

When she spoke I felt a wave take me

Leaving me breathless and grasping me

Deep into the depths of the unknown

With unending layers

And Places to discover

I released her into orbit

But, she always found a way to gravitate back towards me

And when she touched me I felt the stars

Beautiful, calm, welcoming

Like constellations her heart aligned to fit mine

Giving me security and stability

Never letting me fall

I love her.

I shouldn’t feel this way but I do.

But if I run away

How would I live another day

How can you experience anything the same way?

True love is hard

But I realized, dashing away from it was harder

I left behind my doubts in the tall grass

And picked up my passion with the flowers for her

I returned

As I walked back I imagined her face

I saw her deep brown eyes that shined brightly in the light and felt deep in the dark

I saw her smile that lit a flame in my heart and sent the rest of my body on fire

She was waiting for me

Even when I gave up on

Her Myself

As the sun closed down and the moon opened

We sat under the stars

The world was at our feet

Querencia Noleé Simon

Unseen

My beautiful lily, in a land full of weeds.

You’re so elegant and petite. So why the long face, when you’re basically a queen? Why do you want to be an ugly shade of green?

Danielle Isom

no- Faye. 91

If you look outside your window you’ll see the prettiest and flowiest little stream. Its mostly gentle and soft and kind and the sigh of its beauty’ll make you go blind as it ruses and rushes and rushes

The weather has gotten grom and raindrops cling to the brim of that window in which you watch your stream now angry and rough and filled with steam rushing and rushing and rushing.

And even as the rains stop and the last drop to drop has dropped the anger of the stream seems to cling and its angry sound you’ll hear it sing “rushing and rushing and rushing.”

Sleeping by the window, by the stream, every night has left you wondering about the stream’s fight. How can one so calm get so angry so fast? And the steam doesn’t answer as it rushes past.

Faith Ojo

The End

My ebony eyes bore into the clock that is hung just above the chestnut colored door which gave the illusion that it was slightly warped to the right. I can’t recall how long I’ve been looking at it, but it has truly felt as if I’ve been in this room forever.

The room is quite small, the walls are made of concrete which has been stained overtime with who knows what and the carpets are so old that they’ve started to mold. It fills the room with a dreadful and repulsive scent, unfamiliar and unnatural to say the least.

With no surprise, my mind started to wander. It was normal at first; remembering what I had last eaten, that I needed to get water from the store later. I had begun to think, What if the world did run out of water? What if the world ran out of basic necessities? I wonder if I would become selfish, if I had nothing left. I wonder how I’d turn out, if everything had run out.

I often think about what the world would be like if this happened. I have doubts that everything would remain peaceful. I find it intriguing how people would react, would it be a state of panic? Or would it be a state of clarity and collaboration?

I feel as if we are too selfish; there wouldn’t be panic nor collaboration but perhaps “every man for themselves.” No one would stop to help one another, we’d stock up on what we can find, some luckier than others.

I wonder why it seems everyone was written with selfishness, maybe it was the way we were raised or maybe it’s just our natural instincts. To protect ourselves rather than others because it’s what we were born to do. An individual’s self-interest is their motivation, everyone lies on the emotional spectrum somewhere, most people’s emotional intelligence is just lower I guess.

Sometimes I wonder how the government would help us at a time like this. Would it fall apart? Would there be alternate options to nutrition? Would the world ultimately end?

I hadn’t realized how long I zoned out for and when the bell finally rang, I collected all my things swiftly and rushed out the room. I could still smell the faint odor that came from the carpets. I decided not to reflect on what I had just thought about in fear that it might as well happen.

Nora Krawczyk

Sunny Misty Green Wesley Harrison

Write Death’s Name

Ella Salter

I rather want death to grasp me first So your hands can be the last I hold

Do what you want with me, But do not bury me in a hollow coffin

Rather set my body to be cradled by the earth

So a tree may sprout from the remnants of my soul

And let that tree sway in the wind

So its leaves may dance with the birds of fall

Or instead scatter my ashes along the river This way, they float out to sea And entangle themselves in the currents

So I may sing to you

When the waves touch your ankles

Mourn me, but do not waste your tears

Let the tears that drop to my cold hands

Be the last that you shed of me

Instead, let yourself cry when the wind stings your eyes And the sun blesses them with light Know it is me on the other side

If death were not to grasp us so beautifully Would we know what beauty is?

MeiHui Nakiyah Roberts-Dunn

no- Faye. 91

Faith Ojo

The end of the world is not destined for millions and millions of years or maybe 50-ish, depending on the climate but it feels like everything is crashing down and doom is inevitable

I don’t know how I’d feel if the world was actually ending tomorrow but I do know how I feel about everything that’d be gone from the universe if it did so if this test really is the end of the world as I know it and I’ve barely gotten to know it I hope it keeps spinning without me although my world will only be an imploded memory this world will continue to flourish for eons and eons

Untitled Nakiyah Roberts-Dunn