by Haley King
The mirror reflects your gray
eyes and freckled bridge. I can smell the beer on your breath
from your last drink. The one that went to your organs Continue reading
Liver Window
Filed under Poetry, Young Writers Edition
Ivy
by Marcyn Campbell-Ogbunezu
Growing over my dilapidated ruin, once there was only disrepair as far as the eye could see
A lost cause, doors that wouldn’t open, windows that wouldn’t shut
I was a house that was a ghost of a home, within just remnants of what had been
An iron tea kettle rusted over a brilliant ochre Continue reading
Filed under Poetry, Young Writers Edition
She Will Not Stir
by Elina Kumra
Rapid tweets across the valleys of the Kashmir,
where murmurs grow to roars, quelled by fog —
the hourglass frozen for the lost child on the lonely path.
Longing to chronicle the rape red-hot incident, the cast-off
gas canisters around their soles, chucked
onto the innocent paths of Dalits. (Go home? I am home. You
go the fuck home.) Continue reading
Filed under Poetry, Young Writers Edition
Vessels
by Haley King
I.
I learned the purple and blue
marks were ones of pain. They led to what
happened coming at you from everyone
who notices. I had this grape-color
on my knee for two weeks from falling on the pavement trying
to learn how to ride my bike. My mother said they made me
look stronger. I saw
I learned the purple and blue
marks were ones of pain. They led to what
happened coming at you from everyone
who notices. I had this grape-color
on my knee for two weeks from falling on the pavement trying
to learn how to ride my bike. My mother said they made me
look stronger. I saw
Filed under Poetry, Young Writers Edition
rusted
by Mikayla Maeshiro
i am the host to a funeral in my brain
an open casket with no body
a eulogy gratingly carved in sepia
grave-robbed flowers pay their respects
the living are not worthy of mourners. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry, Young Writers Edition
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