The painting hanging on the wall was unwelcoming and venerable with its twirling winds above the seaside as the thunder rumbled in the oil.  The storm mounted above the tropical scene makes me feel small, useless, a flea in a flea market, escaping the harsh crescendo of noise.  The mulberr
        -after Rejoice by Julien Baker  My whole family, an empty table, sitting together, watching the news on Mom’s birthday, it says I’m evil. Cried in the car alone on Jubilee. Call the hotline, curse her name ‘cause I know I’m still alive.  Gave me everything [&h
There’s absolutely nothing like the present Because when retold it is made up Edited in some shape or form You can not capture your emotion quite the same, your laugh or your pain All of those moments lay in different times  Remember when we… followed by laughter that could be heard from mil
By Julia Voyt Pages and pages of 12 size Times New Roman are bled across the paper feverishly, introductions and statistics under methods and conclusions. Not eating food and my bicep is smaller this week I talk faster to my family and I write, write, write. The earth outside smells different and sw
By Emma Gail Compton I made the table I eat dinner at. The wood was cheap but sturdy. The stain I chose is a dark oaky red and makes the small round table seem more expensive than it was. One could find something similar at any store, but this table, my table, I made. I […]
By Fara Ling Ah Ma,     A few weeks ago, I realized I have never written Ah Ma a letter. That means I have never told Ah Ma I love you. There’s no way to say it in Hokkien, Ah Ma’s mother tongue. Forcing the syllables wa ai lu to sit next to […]