Editor’s Letter: Ah, high school. A time of tears in bathroom stalls and skipping gym class in the library. I don’t know a single person who enjoyed, or is enjoying, the high school experience. It’s 4 years of utter bullshit masquerading as real life. Trust me though, it isn’t. There’s a whole world beyond 9 am classes and sports team. The rad as hell part is, you don’t have to feel like a complete freak in it either. Lunches aren’t always served in cafeteria lines and friendships are worth more than the cheerleading squad.
Love Love Love,
You’re probably one of those guys who
avoids the rain because you’re protective
of your hair. You probably know way
too much about cars because it seems
masculine and expected. You definitely read
poetry when it’s dark, and when you feel
the need to think. You were probably some sad
prepubescent eleven year old who’d
masturbate themselves to sleep every night
with the lights dimmed, no less. I bet you
You seem super raw and chill
but that shit’s not genuine. You’re like a
pomegranate. Incredibly thick and stiff
on the outside, with millions of secrets buried
inside that can only be scraped out. You bleed
your life sparingly in the process, staining fingers
and leaving a permanent residue of what you said.
I’d tell you now that I’m not
attracted to you, but that’s a lie. You’re mysterious,
but in a very obvious way. You seem to want
to act caring and sincere, but you’re kind
of full of shit. You seem to need someone
to worry about you, regardless of
your constant struggle for individuality.
You’re kind of a dick.
You probably only talk to girls with blond hair
and an obvious 34C. You seem to subconsciously
like mirrors because your shoulders look
broad, and your cheekbones look
prominent. You probably love sandwiches
because you get to eat with your hands. You
definitely own a nail file.
I’m sure you bring up your sexual
escapades to reassure yourself that they
actually happened. I bet you
– Charlotte Rauner
i don’t know how to be better
but maybe i could learn like
maybe i could drink until
i couldn’t speak without
throwing flames or maybe
i could stay in the shower
for days until all the bad
was washed out or maybe
drive away the ones who
love this thing in me or i
could punch out every
mirror i come across and
maybe build a new body
with all those shards so
maybe then i could feel
safe in everyone
– Chey Addison
It’s not quite late enough to justify
the irrational anger that I feel
seeing you saying yes to her request
to go to fucking formal like we’re thirteen again
and I’m cutting class to pile on purple eyeshadow
and trying to pull up my skirt
in our old high school bathroom
pretending to not see the cross on the wall
cause my time with you always felt like a sin
they could lecture me about sacraments
but they never mentioned your skin
and your plaid shirt that felt so soft
when you held me at homecoming
and I thought that was what growing up was supposed to be like
late night calls and classes spent
hoping our hands would brush
as you walked to your seat
but all the purple eyeshadow in the world
wouldn’t change how it stung
when I asked and you hesitated
because that was enough
I was young but not stupid
and I knew what rejection was like
and it sure as hell wasn’t the way you looked when she asked
and I may still be young
and maybe I am a little bit stupid
but I can’t help but wonder
if I asked you now
without the crosses and sins
without the eyeshadow and skirts
would I be enough?
– Remy Anne
this building tried to
eat me alive
sucked my motivation
through the cracks
in the walls
so i left
– Sarah Freemyer
I always knew I’d never see
The real you
The real us
At night I am haunted
By visions of what might have been
Visions of a face
I know I’ll never see
You stalk my dreams
You wonder through my thoughts
As I try to sleep.
In the middle of the night I awaken
With your name on my heart
In my lips
Through, my, head.
Like a curious child
I touched the flame
Just to see if it would burn me
Or offer me warmth and comfort.
But in the way you haunt me
I have the afterglow to keep me warm.
I always knew you’d never let me see your face
And what lies
Behind the mask
I always knew you were nothing but a vision
I always knew
I’d never see the real you.
And still I am haunted
By what we
By who you
Might have been
If you had been real.
You said you knew
But never truly knew
The real us
The real me.
I see visions of what could have been
But I know they’ll never be.
Which is forever in my heart
Until the end of time.
I try to call your name out
But no sound comes from my lips.
The flame in my heart
And I’m not sure I can keep trying.
I’m running after you
But you’re too far away.
I wake up every night
If it was all a dream
Why heart aches.
Maybe it was real
But I will never know.
Because what once was there
– Bridgette Annalyse