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.