elementia

childhood home

By Emily Martin

she is four years old

toddling around

on wooden floors

like a spinning top,

too short to reach the cabinets or

see above the sink,

clambering atop

countertops

to reach her

pink plastic glasses


Fifteen

By Abbey Roschak

Age is just a number

We all start out at one

But someone’s first year

Is another’s seventh

Their neighbor’s eleventh

My fifteenth


disillusioned revolutions

By Hailey Alexander

The clock glares at me,

with the steady

accusations

of her hands –

Where will you be

In an hour,

 In a day,

 In a year?


An Ode to My Innocence

By Kathryn Malnight

You ruffled dress.

You lip glossed, 

clean tongued, classy individual.