The Falcon’s Cry Edition 1: Circle
of life
4----- Blossom by Katherine LeMay
5----- Oh How the Spotlight Reveals by Eli Ordonez
9----- Daniel by Anonymous
10-----Taste the Rainbow by Madison Wincapaw
11-----Allegory by Connor Brigham
11-----Rose by Shyanne Drennan
12-----Blue by Anonymous
12-----Internal by Katherine LeMay
12-----My Cows by Illary Soto
13-----Memories by Connor Brigham
13-----Untitled by Miranda Fikes
13-----The Peculiar Purple Pie Man of Porcupine Peak Ya-tata-ta ta ta by Anonymous
14-----So Small by Connor Brigham
16-----Untitled by Dawnya Burkhart
16-----Nameplate by Eli Ordonez
17-----My Queen by Anonymous
17-----Untitled by Madison Wincapaw
18-----Overachiever by Illary Soto
20-----Untitled by Connor Brigham
20-----Untitled by Elisabeth Ordonez
20-----Lost by Anonymous
21-----The Inner Monologue of a Girl by Anonymous
24----Two Little Guys by Illary Soto
24-----What I Love by Madison Wincapaw
25-----Neon Nights by Connor Brigham
25-----Untitled by Miranda Fikes
26-----Wallflower by Katherine LeMay
27-----This is Me by Danielle Houghland
27-----Untitled by Madison Wincapaw
28-----Untitled by Madison Wincapaw
29-----The Riverside Cottage by Jadyn Brush
29-----Untitled by Dawnya Burkhart
30-----Fantastical Justice by Connor Brigham
30-----Third-Wheeling by Anonymous
30-----Enzo Furr-ari by Katherine LeMay
31-----Untitled by Aunjanette Dodds
32-----Abstract Deer by Alyssa Robinson
34-----Buried Beneath Lead by Connor Brigham
34-----Tommy Lee Motley Crew by Alyssa Robinson
35-----He’s a Fun-Guy by Illary Soto
35-----Untitled by Madison Wincapaw
36-----Buried Zeal by Eli Ordonez
37-----Pond Scum by Anonymous
38-----Yellow Brick Road by Illary Soto
40-----Untitled by Miranda Fikes
41-----Skinny Gummy Worms by Illary Soto
41-----O’Death by Connor Brigham
41-----Hidden by Katherine LeMay
42-----Cages by Connor Brigham
42-----Mr Toad by Anonymous
43-----Untitled by Madison Wincapaw
43-----Perrenial Gargoyles by Illary Soto
43-----The End by Katherine LeMay
44-----Index
45-----
ood hea Breath
Oh How The Spotlight Reveals
Poetry
by Eli Ordonez
With a swell of music and a heart’s flutter, I feel the lights warm my skin – the Summer Sun, passion’s fire, The cheers and joy of the crowd guide me – a rudder, Performing on stage a venture I hope others can admire, Can anything compare?
The passion to sing and dance and act is one of great renown, But how often beyond that glorious grand curtain am I still playing a character? In others expectations I understand my role, I am a circus act, meant to perform, But I am more than just an actor, I wish it weren’t the norm,
Pressure is the forger of diamonds that gleam…
So am I a gem? A precious stone to be admired?
Pressure is also the releaser of steam… Through the pressure to perform, I feel tired – unwired,
It is too often in our modern day, That we choose to not be ourselves, That we choose to not recognize others,
I can't be true to myself because the truth hurts, Hurts so deeply, So completely, But I am more than I seem, Beyond the facade you see, beyond the stage lights and back-lit screen.
We all can be more than dancers in this masquerade, You just don’t want to reach out your hand, won’t deign to give your aid,
Because we are selfish, Obsessed with ourselves, Our issues, our virtues, Into the rabbit hole, self-absorbed one delves,
The swell of music – the swell of tide, Fight or flight ain’t an option so instead I choose to drown,
Drown in the expectations of society lest I be an outcast,
The spotlight’s warmth – burns holes through my psyche, Madness breaks, it shatters me completely, Shards – the painful truth, The pain that society projects, Expects, You know what I mean, because you feel it too,
Expectations break your back, Crushing with their weight, So irate, A blank slate, Resigned to your horrible fate,
On the stage in my heels?
Stilts through which I wobble precarious, As I struggle, I feel the eyes, Watching, Will I crack, Will I break,
Watching to see if I dare defy, So they look, ready to pounce, and I am seen, Seen but unnoticed, seen but unrecognized
All because you won't look past this mask and share in this, This life, this light, this passion, But you share in the pressure,
On the stage in my heels – alone, I groan, Bemoan, Mouth sewn shut as I try to tell you that this isn't me, This isn’t you,
Because you are performing, So take it,
Take your Oscar, Your Emmy,
Understand your distance from reality, Your distance from your true self,
Take it,
Be proud of your skills, Achievements you’ve gained because of them, Friends, family, opportunities,
I wish it weren’t true…
But I know what it’s like, Human experience, Human life, Human lies, What are humans doing if not lying? To themselves, to each other, I speak from a pedestal of lies, Because I too share in the facade,
Perhaps my mask is beautiful – elegant, Like those you see hung up in museums, Porcelain, Delicate,
Because I am to be admired, just like you,
Or perhaps a clown, aiming for a smile, a laugh,
Humor distracts, diverts the eyes, You understand because you’ve been there, It stops the masses from seeing our lies,
I use humor as my shield – a warrior, Or perhaps nothing too righteous, Simply someone trying to survive, Just like you, and the next person, and the next,
Or perhaps I am a Venetian masterpiece, Sculpted to emphasize my dramatic nature,
Not so natural in the grand scheme…
Scheme… a plot, hatched for the purpose of deceit, How much of me is me?
My humor?
My passions?
My hopes?
My dreams?
Perhaps we all have multiple masks, On rotation, a cycle that never ends, A cycle that you and I perpetuate,
Are you sick yet, from the spinning, In this archaic ritual – the balance of expectation and expression, No one is winning,
So I ask again what mask am I wearing, Can you tell?
Can any of us tell?
Clown or crusader, all I can do is try to be true to me, So begone with it,
On the stage in my heels?
I trip, stumble, Fumble, Foundation cracking, Earth shattering, Through the split life thus emerges! Break that barrier, Be who you are, Fight – fight for you Fight for truth, For all you could be, Say, Do…
Or don’t… That’s fine… Sit behind your mask, Perfectly molded, Perfectly preserved, I can’t stop you, I would never be able to tell…
But I refuse to believe this is how we are born, Perhaps we grow our masks overtime like a second skin, Thick-skin, Trick-skin, A child is born care-free, Why can’t that be you, me
So I’ll stand on this stage, I’ll continue to be a character, There’s no need to show anger, Rage, Because I’ll just keep dancing, perpetuating the cycle, Twirling in this masquerade called life, On this ever-expansive stage.
Daniel Photography by Anonymous
Taste the Rainbow
Painting by Madison Wincapaw
Allegory
Poetry by Connor Brigham
1 Whether Normandy beach
2 Or someone, who has a head like a peach
3 The truth is whisked away
4 Like a Zephyr
5 On the stale air of D-Day
6 A truth, held up like a mirror
7 Broken, like glass
8 Or covered to be ignored.
9 Yet still,
10 No matter how
11 The truth, is still there
12 Waiting, for that gentle, gust of air
Painting by Shyanne Drennan
Blue Poetry by Anonymous
Mind gone ill, memories never mattered
Things were said and done then locked aw
Fear like towering flames, our bond tattere
Secrets are sacred but I wish I broke the ru
All the things I knew and kept for you
I strived to keep you here just end up a too
Truth spilled by bad blood but not by me
We are Atlantic and Pacific, forever split
Weary and drained I could never see
Resentment erupted for you, love the same
Now regret becoming all I know
Thought to be the Hoodoo Sea
But I saw lovely Atlantis long ago
Gone, its true but forever strong for you
Internal Painting by Katherine LeMay
My Cows Photography by Illary Soto
Memories
Poetry by Connor Brigham
Falling Summer Rain
Sweet fall leaves and memories
Don't leave me again
Untitled
Jewelry by Miranda Fikes
The Peculiar
Purple Pie Man of Porcupine Peak
Photography by Anonymous
So Small Poetry by Conner Brigham
Lost in the noise of Seven billion voices
Where standing out means making all the worst choices
My mother always told me that I never had to be the best
"Take it slow, don't need to know, sit down and take a rest"
"Just have some fun, you're far too young to always be this stressed"
I’m just a kid who can't get rid of feeling way too slow
So?
I look around at these strange stars that I see
Can't help but feel that they're starting to shape
me…
Surrounded by the crowd but i feel alone
Marching on and on like i'm made for war
Who am I, what am I made here for?
My feet controlled by intangible forcе
An unexplainable source
But I must follow its course.
With the ups and downs
Heavy are the heads that wear the crowns.
I’m a grain on a shoreline so wide
Lost in the curves where the oceans reside
Shadows of giants dance over my skin
A world so vast I can’t fit in
Stars are burning in a sky so deep
Whispers of cosmos when I try to sleep
Mountains rise like they own the air
I’m just a thought fading somewhere
Just a speck in the universe
Floating wild under heaven's curse
A tiny voice in the endless sound
Trying to matter where I’m not found
Time doesn’t wait it forgets my steps
History laughs at the tears I've wept
The world keeps turning with no reprise
While I’m still searching behind clouded skies
But still my breath is a quiet fight
A single flicker in endless night
If I could roar just a little more
Would fate remember what it ignored?
Just a speck in the universe
Floating wild under heaven's curse
A tiny voice in the endless sound
Trying to matter where I’m not found
A speck of dust on a spinning sphere
The quiet whisper no one will hear
The mountains loom and the rivers run deep
While I’m just a shadow the world doesn’t keep
Stars above don’t know my name
A billion years they’ll burn the same
The city hums loud I’m lost in the hum
A drop in the ocean where I come from
So small so small I fade away
A fleeting breath at the break of day
But maybe small is all I need
To plant a thought to grow a seed
The skies don’t pause for the lives we lead
The earth turns on it takes no heed
The trees don’t notice as I walk by I’m just a blip under an endless sky
But in my heart there’s a galaxy
A million dreams trying to break free
Maybe small is where we start
The softest sounds heal the hardest heart
But I’m just a grain on a shoreline so wide
Lost in the curves where the oceans reside
Shadows of giants dance over my skin
A world so vast I can’t fill it in
Untitled
Collection of Photos
Photography by Dawnya Burkhart
Nameplate
Painting by Eli Ordonez
Untitled
My Queen
Painting by Anonymous
Sketch by Madison Wincapaw
First Fligh
t vastness of n admirable un one dips a n search of o ls in a lulling melody rumming of the winds es the only remedy mmitting woeful sins
Untitled Poetry by Connor Brigham
Upon the craggy peaks where winds do roar
A creature fierce with fire and wing resides Its gilded scales, a gleaming armor's lore And eyes that pierce the veils where truth abides Its breath ignites the stars within the night
A tempest born of flame and ancient power Its shadow casts the land in daunting plight Yet beauty shines amidst its fearsome scour.
A symbol vast of strength and wisdom's key Immortal bound in song and poetry.
Untitled Painting by Elisabeth Ordonez
Lost Photography by Anonymous
The Inner Monologue of a Girl
Poetry by Anonymous
In my deepest depths I am simply just a girl!
Girly girl girl ummmmmmmmm yuh
I like pink
Sighhh
I want jolly ranchers
But not grape
I want mango jolly ranchers
Yuh
I hate writing lowk
Im my deepest depths I am simply just a girl!
My inner monologue is very loud and never seems to go away
Constant thoughts run through my head
It's very fun
I can hear your voice vividly
See your face …vividly
I sit and daydream
Daydream about a life I could be living
But nope Im sitting here scrolling through tiktok
I should probably get up
I need to get those AP assignments done And math And chemistry And english Nah
Im cozy I can do those later
In my deepest depths I am simply just a girl! I talk to myself
Sometimes I talk to myself out loud
Well I actually talk to myself out loud like a lot
Sometimes I talk to much
Then sometimes I just don’t talk at all
I wait to see if people notice
I walk behind simply because there is not always enough room
Sometimes I turn my headphones all the way up
It drowns the people out
I can be my own for a second
Then I'm Snapped back into reality
What if I just stopped talking
Would people notice
Maybe?
Actually probably yeah
I talk a lot
But that's because I have a lot to say I even talk when I have nothing to say sometimes
Or I just don’t talk I like observing people
It's very fun
You hear and see things and you learn
You learn little habits people do
You start to notice
And things start to make sense
I like knowing its nice
I like knowing people
That's also nice
Bro what even is this poem
Is this a poem I don’t know?
I'm in my deepest depths. I am simply just a girl!
Some people say they don’t have an inner monologue
I can’t seem to wrap my head around that idea
What do you mean you don’t constantly talk to yourself
Or have other people talk to you but like in your head
Everything I can see with vivid color and detail Every movement
Every word
Everything Its kinda a blessing anddd a curse
I tend to think about the past and relive those moments in my head
But I relive them differently
From a different perspective
I recreate them doing or saying something different
Constantly changing the outcomes I think about the what ifs?
And I can image those vividly
What if I never got that class switched
What if I never did that audition
What if? I never realized that you were actually cool?
What if?
Overthinking every little action, word, thought Every little thing
Ugh
Why did I say that
Why did I do that
Why did I…
I'm hungry
Fries sound really good right now
In my deepest depths, I am simply just a girl!
This song is really good
I love laufey
She gets me
Or do I get her
Love is a stupid feeling,
Ok not stupid just confusing it's a feeling I don't understand and I have never fully comprehended.
I find myself In a state of constant confusion
Why?
Bro I don’t know
Laufey makes me ponder
Ponders a fun word
A lot of music makes me do that I sit and think
Im my deepest depths I am simply just a girl!
I wish it was socially acceptable to just start singing
Like in highschool musical
But just me
And only in like 5th hour though I reallyyyy like music
I can connect with it on a deeper level
I can use music to connect with other people
That's always fun
I like singing too
Especially when the house is empty and i’m cleaning
I wonder what bros doing right now?
I wish I could do a backflip
That would be cool
It could get me out of any awkward situation ever
Conversation ends BACKFLIPS
Fail a test
BACKFLIPS
Can’t do math
BACKFLIPS
Can’t say words
BACKFLIPS
In my deepest depths, I am simply just a girl!
I want to play club penguin
Girl plays club penguin
Girl gets banned?
Nah not this year.
In my deepest depths, I am simply just a girl!
Whack
…. Whack (but said longenly whack)
I like that line its funny
So I actually don’t know how to end this
So ummmm
The end!
Two Little Guys
Photography by Illary Soto
Collage by Madison Wincapaw What I Love
Neon Nights
Poetry by Connor Brigham
Bumping into strangers passing by Their faces hidden in the dark
But we're all connected under the sky
United by the beat of the heart
Every step echoes through the night
Music playing in my mind
With every move
I'm taking flight
Leaving all my worries behind
A ghost among these streets my lonely heart begins to fade away through night and day, I start to decay
All alone again
We hit the midnight ride, Headlights shining
We hit the road
Windows down
The night is our code
No destination
Just feeling alone again togeth
We're gonna chase the stars
Let the good vibes thrive
And forget about the scars.
Turn up the radio
Let the sound fill the air
With every beat
We forget about our cares
The city lights flicker
Guiding our way
As we spend the night alone
Finding our way home
And in the depth of night
Let the fire in my soul take flight
Once again to scare away the fright
Caused by the darkest night.
Caused by every fight.
But we must believe
That there's a light at the end of it all,
So I feel no shame when I walk in the hall of fame have to feel the blame
Untitled Jewelry by Miranda Fikes
Wallflower Painting by Katherine LeMay
This is Me
Poetry by Danielle Hougland
Fear.
I remember screams that echoed throughout my mind,
Not knowing if they were out loud or just in my head.
I remember the crash after the run.
I remember smoke, blood dripping from broken glass.
I remember the glass cutting like a knife. I remember being violated and alone.
I remember the pain.
I remember the burning shower I took to scorch my skin to forget. But I remember.
Fighting.
I am a brick wall, stubborn, and I stand strong. I don’t back down.
I am a marble block that had spent time in God's sculpting studio.
Polished, and has substance and beauty.
I am covered in stress cracks at the edges.
I am a mixture of strong emotions and a bold advocate.
I am a voice.
One that will not stay quiet.
I am a fighter.
Future.
I wish for peace.
I’ve had my share of life.
I’ve had pain and beauty and experience. I wish for joy and fulfillment.
I wish to wake up in the morning and get a cup of coffee
And to watch the sunrise.
I wish for a space of my own, Peace and poetry and light colors.
I wish to be free.
Untitled Drawing by Madison Wincapaw
Untitled Drawing by Madison Wincapaw
The Riverside Cottage
Painting by Jadyn Brush
Untitled Collection of Photos
Photography by Dawnya Burkhart
Fantastical Justice
Poetry by Connor Brigham
Soaring wings forgot
Scales tilt tables turn justice burns
Third Wheeling
Photography by Anonymous
Enzo Furr-ari
Painting by Katherine LeMay
Untitled Sculptures by Aunjanette Dodds
First Kill
Buried Beneath Lead
Poetry by Connor Brigham
Shovel in my hands dirt takes flight
The moon is my witness in the dead of night
Whispers of vengeance cutting like a blade
This grave I dig isn’t asking for shade
Buried beneath lead a story untold
The cold bite of steel where the heart once was bold
Ashes to ashes but the weight is lead
Sinking down with bullets for your eternal bed
Rage in my chest burns hotter than flame
The echoes remember they scream your name
Each round I load feels like justice served
For all the heartbreak you once preserved
No prayers no tears no angel’s hymn
Just a reckoning as the lights grow dim
The ground swallows lies the truth stands tall
These silver slugs are your curtain call
Buried beneath lead a story untold
The cold bite of steel where the heart once was bold
Ashes to ashes but the weight is lead
Sinking down with bullets for your eternal bed
Every ounce of silence sharpens the sting
The grave’s embrace will never bring spring
But this heavy guilt I’ll learn to survive
Your shadow gone will keep me alive
Tommy Lee Motley Crew
Drawing by Alyssa Robinson
He’s a Fun-Guy
Photography by Illary Soto
Untitled
Drawing by Madison Wincapaw
Buried Zeal
Prose by Eli Ordonez
The gaping mouth of the stone stairwell’s entranceway leered at me, leeched any confidence I might have had away. After weeks of searching and not finding anything, I had started to lose hope, so with great trepidation, I finally arrived at the one place that I hadn’t dared enter, or even think about if I’m being honest; the Dean’s office.
I’ve never seen the Dean do anything of actual importance, but he would stalk the halls and sneer at students as he passed. A black cloud of malice followed him wherever he went, ever-present, choking people in its thick darkness, suffocating, and all you want to do is to flee, to run. Not even the Professors seemed able to tolerate him, his darkness unbiased in its insatiable hunger for fear. The hallway to his office got longer and longer with every shaky step I took, until, all too suddenly, I was at the Dean’s solid oak door. Fear like no other thrilled up my arm as I reached to turn the doorknob, disturbing
electricity that almost made me turn around. But I wouldn’t turn around, not until I got what I came here for.
The door swung open on ancient hinges, the scream of the rusting metal all the louder in the oppressing silence of the corridor behind and the shadowy room beyond. A fearful glance back revealed the same decrepit hallway that I had just gone through, unchanged, I half expected the Dean to come thundering down like a vengeful god. Minutes passed, or it could have been seconds, but I didn’t know, I couldn’t focus on anything but the repercussions of getting caught. I could turn back right now and nobody would know, I could stop and return to normal college life, except I couldn’t, not without answers. With my decision made, I stepped over the threshold. With the door closed behind me, the only light came from the soft moonlight filtering in through the large bay window. An unsettling
cold lay upon the room like a thick layer of snow, but there were no feelings of joy that usually accompany the winter wonder, just dread. From what I could see there was a large desk in the center of the room and bookshelves lining the walls, anything else was just an indistinct blur in the colorless room.
As I fumbled around furniture and assorted knick-knacks I cursed my lack of hindsight for not bringing a flashlight. Desperately, I yanked at drawers and filing cabinets, a fruitless endeavor as they were all locked, of course the Dean would be a suspicious man, men like him had secrets, and men like him hid them.
Pond Scum
Photography by Anonymous
I found myself sagging under the oppressive weight of disappointment, right into the Dean’s stiff office chair. The voices of my family swirled around in my head, openly berating me for my uselessness, for not picking a worthwhile major, for not getting into a good college, for not being able to complete one simple task! I can see them now, all frowning, making little tsk-ing noises at me, tsk tsk tsk tsk tsk tick tick click click click click… until all of a sudden, they weren’t my parent's noises of disapproval, but heels clacking along the ground, right outside the door, right outside the room, the room I wasn’t supposed to be in…
With a hammering heart I leaped from the chair and hid behind some old velvet curtains. The musty stench of years of dust build-up permeated my nose but I persevered, fear stifling the urge to try and take gulps of nonstale air.
Three hard knocks upon the door. And silence. Three more knocks; demanding, searching. Many thoughts went through my head, mostly excuses for what would happen if I got caught. As suddenly as they arrived, I heard those clicking heels leave, and so with
great trepidation, I peeked around the corner. And I stayed there, for several long moments, even as the click-clacking of the heels grew fainter, my heart wouldn’t stop its heightened rhythm.
With a heavy exhale I stepped out from my haphazard hiding spot and set for the door, I’d been here too long. The curtain, it seemed, had other ideas as it wrapped around my ankles causing me to stumble uncontrollably into one of the walls covered in bookshelves.
To add insult to injury, or injury to insult more like, one of my shoulders clipped the edge of a bookcase as the other slammed into the peeling wall and unceremoniously I crumpled into a heap on the floor giving a little yelp on the way down. Searing pain clouded my mind and I barely noticed the bookshelf next to me swing open: almost, it’s hard not to notice hot putrid air rush at you and attack your senses. Gagging slightly I pushed myself up on shaky limbs, not forgetting my injuries for a moment. And there it was.
I’m not sure how I activated the passage, but then again, I’m not an engineer or anything useful I thought bitterly, my mother’s words
Yellow Brick Road
Photography by Illary Soto
ever-present in my every thought. But now wasn’t the time to focus on that, not when I had found something, finally something! Too bad that something was a terrifying black hole set in the stone of my college. It was a staircase, I could see that much from the little light in the room, but what lay beyond was a mystery…no it wasn’t, it was answers. Answers. What happened to Max? I had a gut feeling that I would know, if only I went down, but as I mentioned earlier my confidence was sucked dry.
That was when it hit me, Max was my friend. As juvenile as it sounded, he was really the
first person, the only person to talk to me, my only friend, I hadn’t had those before. Leaving now would be a disservice to him, to my friend. So it was with that newly steeled resolve I began down the loathsome stairwell.
Each step down was its own challenge, with doubts on every level, but also knowledge, the knowledge that I would get my answers. What happened to Max? Sure there were explanations aplenty, that he had dropped out being the most common. I had believed it for a while, had forced myself to, but the longer school went on, the less I could deny how wrong the whole thing felt. He would have said goodbye, he wouldn’t have just up and left. Intuition, purely intuition, but the conviction I felt was as solid as titanium; unbreakable.
Then came the smell, the unmistakable revolting stench of feces, grime, rot. I’d been so lost in thought that I hadn’t noticed the light coming from up ahead, but it was unmistakable, there was a lit room down there, a room where my answers lay. This stairwell seemed to stretch on forever, the uneven stone steps doing no favors for my aching body and mind. And as if on cue my
shoulders throbbed, the crescendo of my symphony of pain.
How wrong I was, the physical ache of my body was nothing to the mental convulsion that occurred when I took those final steps down. It was a stone chamber with one large room. Grime clung to the stone walls and floor. Along the walls was a canal of brown water, though it was so thick and vile, the title of water didn’t seem to fit. Flickering lights lined the walls, making the room seem only darker. In the center of the room stood a lectern, an ancient book upon it opened to a page covered in diagrams and paragraphs I didn’t understand. Despite the grotesque state of the room, my attention was drawn to one feature, a young man, curled up on the ground, he was off to the side as if simply discarded, a scrap of garbage to be disposed of. His arms and legs were bound together and his breathing was ragged, and he moved fitfully: in a nightmare away from this living one. But through the caked dirt and obvious malnourishment it was plain to see who it was.
“Ma-x?”, my voice gave away my shock. I don’t know what I had expected, but it
wasn’t…this. I rushed over and shook him until he startled awake, a wild look in his eyes as he tried to understand what was happening. I kept saying his name over and over, like a lifeline, “Max! Max! Max!”, it was just so surreal, I was thrilled to have found him, I didn’t know all this had been happening, but he was still so unsure, and his emotions reflected clearly across his face. Fear, confusion, understanding, elation, joy… fear. I felt my own face shift into confusion at that last one, but it all made sense when I heard an oil slick voice echo through the chamber, “Nighty, night little mouse.”. I felt my spine go iron rod straight, and my hands start to shake, but I didn’t even have time to turn before I was hit in the back of the head and I fell forward into welcoming darkness.
Rhythmic mumbling and pacing…Loud yelling… Light…so much light…dark
Knife…red on the dark stone…Max…Max…
A sharp slap woke me from my half-sleep, and all I saw were shining lights…too bright. felt woozy; unsteady. A rough hand forced m
up off the ground and onto my knees. My vision cleared and I suddenly longed for the half-sleep I had been in. All around me were red symbols…red…Max, where was Max?
Another sharp slap and a vial of putrid liquid was forced down my throat, bile rose up, but he clamped my mouth shut, forcing me to swallow or choke.
“You are lucky.”, said that nauseating voice, “Not everyone gets to witness the revival of the old ones.”, and with that, he pushed me down to the stone floor again, and that’s when I saw Max who was behind him, also on the floor but this time in a sickening puddle of red. I didn’t have time to process that as he started speaking again in a language I could not understand. And then…light. Beautiful welcoming light.
Untitled Jewelry by Miranda Fikes
Skinny Gummy Worms
Photography
by Illary Soto
O’Death
Poetry by Connor Brigham
Rattling bones, sweet death
Come embrace a past lover
Forgotten times, gone
Hidden Painting by Katherine LeMay
Cages
Poetry by Connor Brigham
The man who taught me to swim
Knew how to drown himself
Said you shouldn't trust me
I won't even trust myself
Our hearts are monsters
That's why our ribs are cages
The house on the corner
In the driveway
I wait for you
The air is heavy with dust
And dark with ashes
We loved until we were ghosts
Your breath was too thin to be
Screaming into a vacuum
She doesn't know who I am
She's just pretending
That nothing is wrong
When it's all ending
Our hearts are monsters
That's why our ribs are cages
The house on the corner
In the driveway
I wait for you
Our hearts are monsters
That's why our ribs are cages
The house on the corner
In the driveway I wait for you
Mr. Toad Photography by Anonymous
Untitled
Perrenial
Drawing by Madison Wincapaw
The End Painting by Katherine LeMay
Gargoyles
Photography by
Illary Soto
Letter From the Editors
Firstly we would like to thank Mr. Koon for allowing us to do this as our genius hour project. Your wisdom and guidance is invaluable.
We also want to thank our contributors. Thank you for being brave enough to let us see the heart and soul you put into your work. This couldn’t happen without you.
Lastly, thank you dear reader for appreciating the talents of those in the fine arts at Van Horn.
Adeline Deveney, Co-Editor
Eli Ordonez, Co-Editor