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Poetry

Nails done, hair done too

And that's on period pooh 

Twists, curls and kinks that's all that ppl think

Straights, waves and braids all have to be laid

Melanin poppin, lots of talkin

When we’re young we’re told not to snitch 

That you’re not that type of chick

Type of chick that don’t even say hello 

Stay listenin to bodak yellow

Ripped jeans, laughs that scream

You’re either up in the hood 

Or living good

You ask me if I play basketball 

But I’m not playin these games 

Always tryna to make me feel ashamed

But we’re not angry

Always calling us strong

But when we speak up we’re wrong 

But we’re not angry 

The lighter the berry the sweeter the juice 

I tried to convince u otherwise but what’s the use 

But we’re not angry 

You say we got an attitude

Yet you say being rude

But we’re not angry 

You tell us to calm down to not frown 

But our hearts are breaking 

An our backs are aching 

We’re not angry

But should we be?

We're not angry

Grace Akoth

Hey, you (song lyrics)

​

Joanna Zhang

​

​

I wonder if you feel it too

I wonder if you feel tonight

Is the perfect time to be alive

 

Hey, you

I wonder, if we could unite

Would we shine brighter than the skies

Would we be perfect in our eyes

 

If we just fall down the rabbit-hole

I wonder if we would return

Set a fire and watch it burn

 

If we go into Wonderland

I wonder if we’d understand

Each other’s feelings and our plans

 

We shine brighter than the sky

We have lost and found ourselves

We have blazed a trail of glory

And we’re going back for more

 

Can you see us now in twenty years

We fight for life and face our fears

There’s no hurry, no rush of tears

We’ll do it all, while we’re side by side

 

We’ll do it all, while we’re side by side

Photograph by Julianne Reynolds

The Devil’s Horn

​

Lisa Wang
 

​

Toy soldiers sink into the tarpit,

​

the white of eyes dully vibrate.

 

Chivalry men, stretching their arms high,

 

godless creatures praying for salvation.

 

I hold my sword proud,

 

three tubes cleanly removed from Cupid.

 

The battle horn sounds,

 

the battle is no more.

 

I take a sip of my long bottled drink,

 

Its tint reflective,

 

my skin glows eternally crimson.

 

Fix my eyes, onto the far-away wonderland,

 

where angels fly, undoubtedly, freed.

 

The three-horned helmet slips off my head,

 

the blackened gold tint grabs my eye once more

 

before it tumbles

 

into the tarpit,

 

where all shall eventually go.

 

As men descend once more,

 

I raise my tainted hands,

 

for the next toast.

Reckless
Megan Higgins

i.

I can never sit still.

The clock ticks and my fingers tap

An irritating rhythm on the bottom of my chair

The ever-present click of my broken black pen earns me dark stares

As my foot taps too hard against linoleum floors


 

ii. 

I write poetry in bathroom stalls 

On crumpled napkins in the back of empty diners

On someone else’s clammy skin 

in pale blue ink. 

And then, not at all.

Because I can’t figure out 

how to put it all into words

 

iii.

Mama tells me

Darling please

Slow down

Sit still

Don’t be so reckless.

A china plate shatters on the floor. 

Look, there, you’ve done it again. 

 

iv.

Cold mountain air blows my hair from my face

bites into my skin

pushes up the hem of my shirt as I roll down the window 

and scream into the night.

A voice in the back of my mind reminds me

Darling please,

Don’t be so impulsive. 


 

vi.

I need my body to fly.

I need to run through the tall grass and 

plunge into the cold cold water and 

set every inch of my body on fire and

Fill my lungs with terror. 

 

vii. 

To stop moving feels like all the air has been sucked out of my lungs.

I gasp for a flood of relief

But stillness suffocates me

I can never sit still because when I do

I am alone in the silence at 3 AM 

stumbling awake and not recognizing my own face in the mirror. 

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