The birds sing louder…
Not because of joy or pain,
Or sadness or fear.
They sing louder because,
The cars howl under their homes.
Yannick Wallace
2012
The birds sing louder…
Not because of joy or pain,
Or sadness or fear.
They sing louder because,
The cars howl under their homes.
Yannick Wallace
2012
Everything in my life needs to be a certain specific way.Everywhere I go, whether I’m at work or at home, anything andeverything needs to be molded and crafted to meet my set of veryspecific standards and practices. For instance, at home I have a vastcollection of books and CD’s and I can’t just put them…
I’m having a love affair with my pillow.No matter how many times it doubles in size—soaked with the weight of my problems—or I smear all my makeup from another long day,or I scrunch and I squish it this way and that,it loves me back.Every night, it cradles my face,and for hours while I dream—helpless and…
Liana Florez2015
Sabrina Castaño, ‘20
December 1994Anthony is sunken into the queen-sized mattress pulling his knees up to his chin. He clutches at his ankles withblistered hands. Hands that had built some of the structures that surround the city, but he would never notice.His palms are thick and brawny. Big blue veins emphasizethe muscles that gloat over his metacarpals. His…
Liana Florez2015