Regalities of Plainness, pt. II – Bryn Bluth

I gasped,

Over and over again I gasped.

Maybe he was in my lungs

And that’s why I had such a hard time breathing,

But he wasn’t there-

I know because I’ve always had bad lungs.


Perhaps that’s the reason I haven’t caught him,

My lungs gave out

When he took his leave.

Which I’m okay with- 

You can’t run very far without a spine.

Poetry, Prosetry

Random Musings – Brooke Safferman

Why is there a cotton ball in the Advil jar?

Did you tell him a secret that he couldn’t keep?

Did you tell him that you would always love him, before you threw him away?

And why, oh why, would you think that it would be any different this time?

I hope there’s peanut butter still left in the jar in the pantry

I can’t remember what happened last night but I do know that peanut butter was involved

So involved, why do we do this to ourselves?

Humans, trembling and vulnerable, yet we bring this cruelty into our own lives by our very own doings

Telling each other lies because the truth is awfully boring to bear and

Why do my fingers keep typing when all my mind wants to do is SCREAM!

This is not right, this is not right!

And let these words ring out, free and unadulterated (much unlike you and I)

And let them echo out into the vortex that is the nighttime

When you are alone and isolated

And a teenager.

poem, Poetry

Wishing for Home – Elena Barrera-Waters

it’s funny, because last time i wrote,

i said i didn’t love my home.

yet here i am, writing away,

filled with the loneliness for home that i’ve

never yet felt.

maybe it’s that i know i’m gone long,

or that i won’t be able to see the things with which

i’m most familiar,

or be able to pet my dogs and take a long shower

and curl into the covers in my cold room.

but it’s hot here, in rooms without ac.

and it’s lonely. in a week, no one has hugged me.

(and you don’t think about how much you need hugs

until you haven’t had one in a while and

your body feels cold and empty and dirty

and lonelier than even your heart)

and there aren’t dogs here, no sight of my family

worrying about me, and my happiness,

from nearly 2000 miles away.

and maybe that’s not far.

and maybe 3 weeks isn’t that long.

but if i’m missing a place that i’ve talked about disliking,

then clearly something is off.

when i went shopping the other day,

i saw a book about home

and burst into tears in the middle

of the store.

and while i certainly wish that

i could enjoy myself while here,

wanting to be home is something

i wish far more.