The State of Journalism

The great schism is upon us of the government of the United States.

The risen values of opposition, the empty expectations of moderation have dripped, dripped down the drain of compliancy. Polarization does not equal the liberation of your aspirations. My hands the tools of implementation. Condemnation, when will the trepidation in my voice give you pause for thought? I have sought salvation in this once great nation, the culmination of art and celebration, but intimidation the only song playing on TV, damnation the only song playing in Congress’s heart.

Stripped. Tripped. My voice was silenced.

—Jamie Pellikaan

Soundtrack Of My Life

Like voices excitedly calling out for me.

Like neon lights splendidly flashing through the room.

Like salt slightly biting my tongue.

Like laughter happily echoing through the streets.

Like bass fiercely moving the walls.

Like rain gently hitting my face.

Like wind keenly pulling back my hair.

Like tears slowly rolling down my cheeks.

Like smiles inconspicuously brightening my day.

Like arms purposely laying around my shoulders.

Like bodies hypnotically dancing in the crepuscule.

Like melodies loudly bouncing through my ear.

Like perfume sweetly reaching up my nose.

Like children flutteringly running through the park.

Like hands kindly clasping my wrists.

Like air softly brushing my skin.

Like pebble stones painfully scratching my bare feet.

Like waves naturally breaking against my legs.

Like sunshine graciously warming my body.

Like hair unintentionally tickling my neck.

Like happiness enjoyably flooding through my veins.

—Miriam Gaentgen

Wanderlust

We’re all born with stardust in our veins

And the sounds of thunderstorms echoing in our hearts

The water in our skin has traveled the world and we ache with wanderlust

The homemade picture books that lay forgotten in a mountain of nostalgia

Reveal a world of possibility in adventure

When summer meant freedom and sweet corn from the back of a truck

And anyone who interrupted could be shunned by hands covering ears

Where mermaids used manta rays as pillows and had dolphins for friends

And waking up early on Saturdays meant fresh tortillas and churros

When living meant playing pretend and going to bed excited to greet the next day

—Abigail Cottingham

My Greatest Enemy

There is a monster in my mirror

I see it there, its teeth and claws

There is a devil, horrid beast

Scraping feet, and gaping jaws

There is a monster in my mirror

Its arms are scarred with streaks of white

Sharp nails dragging on my bedsheets

I hear its moans into the night

There is a monster in my mirror

Untamed hair, and frenzied eyes

Soulless villain, empty smile

It follows me and whispers lies

There is a monster in my mirror

Tears make puddles at its feet

There is a monster, it’s right here

A terror you shudder to meet

There is a monster in my mirror

And it kills me more each day

There is a monster, it is me

The only dragon I can’t slay

—Hannah Alleyne