growing up
Writing
All-American Adolescence
By Riley StraitTomorrow, I will worry about the future.
But today, I wallow in the past.
Tomorrow, I will be 16 and trying to remember
if the derivative of arcsin is one over
square-root-of-one-minus-u-squared
or square-root-of-u-squared-minus-one.
an uncomfortable comfort
By Leandra Hofor so long, i’ve crossed the same streets
i’ve smiled and waved to the same people in the hallways
i’ve thought the same thoughts
i’ve loved the same love
but i’ve outgrown my attachment to comfort and my warmth for the familiar sidewalks
From the Beginning
By Riley StraitPause, and capture me how I am now:
wrap me up in the minute we just lived:
make me your mosquito in amber –
ephemeral in life, eternal in death.
Freeze and pin me to your little brother’s trifold –
turn me into grade-school, spelling-test vocab:
Real World
By Maddie MiguelThis is the real world
With limited freedom, and lots of things to fear
Where you can’t get away from the truth
This is where violence lives, and people follow you
Where guns are triggered at any time or place
A Haiku on Fitting In
By AnonymousBeing young is hard;
often feeling all alone.
Your hair is a mess
and your face is
breaking out.
Being young is hard.
You aren’t quite sure of your friends,
you’re stressed out;
Where I Belong
By Lauren KellerI was once told that we must take adventures to know where we truly belong, meaning that we have to search to find the perfect place for ourselves. I do not necessarily agree or disagree with this statement.
Available Space
By Faith FreemanPlace: noun, defined as a portion of space available or designated for or being used by someone; i.e. one’s spot at the table, or if you think like me, one’s place in this world.
Empty Suitcase
By Rylee WilsonSome of us haven’t quite found a place
We wander with suitcases full of self-doubt and worry
We flit from person to person seeking acceptance
We run from place to place
searching for a passion where we can direct the never ending flow of time
The Mark of Love
By Kaylie MacLaughlinAria pointed at the little flower on her ankle with a short, chubby finger and asked her mother in her unpracticed, fragmented English about what it was. “Pretty,” she said, her ‘r’ little too rounded and her voice broken up by her childish laughter.
Dear Me: 1 Year Ago
By Emme MackenzieDear Me,
You lose in the end.
In the end, you cry for 6 months and spend sleepless nights wondering why you weren’t enough.
In the end, your bedsheets become tissues for your tears and your pillow becomes a microphone.
red heels
By Claire Hutchinsonwhen you click your heels and wish for home, where exactly is it that you go? i packed away all my ambition in manilla envelopes of faded dreams and sent them away to coral reefs so schools of fish a generation after me could learn from my mistakes.
PTA to AA
By Annie BarryShe stood in front of a mirror
Clean and sober thinking about how she feels taller than her own reflection
Then she took an injection
A Blessing or The Victory of Another Eighty-Two Years
By Molly HatesohlI remember Pauline Miller. Before she moved,
She lived in an understated, light green, box of house
on Raldoph Avenue.
She lived there for a long time.
childhood home
By Emily Martinshe 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
An Ode to My Innocence
By Kathryn MalnightYou ruffled dress.
You lip glossed,
clean tongued, classy individual.