Ronin Hernandez — Young Women’s Leadership Academy

They say “gut out the fish”

So i imagine carnage and slaughter

Looking at my sushi and my mothers sashimi

I really am my fathers daughter

I wonder how different reality would be

If we all knew what’s like to drown in salty seas

Keira Clements - North East School of the Arts

Vast eternal cemeteries sprawl upon the grasses of mankind.

Pass along these rows of stone engraved,

the dearest saints once worshiped by our kind.

But they are nameless now, shrouded with clovers and vines

Isabel Brown - North East School of the Arts

The church was not

A single sanctuary,

But the entire neighborhood.

Hundreds of bricks

Lay as God’s bone

Annaliese Herrera - Young Women’s Leadership Academy

When she is beautiful like the women in magazines.

What, then, will you say?

That dignity is confined within

Never, for a creature on display.

Shanzay Hasan - Young Women’s Leadership Academy

The young woman gripped the blackwood-hilted pocket knife pocketknife in her sleep, her body sprawled haphazardly against dozens of tattered, bulging trash bags that were invisible in the cavernous night. Lying beside her was a dirt-stained Styrofoam takeout box—not a crumb of food left inside, yet still heavy with the guilt and adrenaline of theft.

Esteban Mielnik - North East School of the Arts

Hey darling, give me a mouth to bleed from

Tell me some gelatinous sugary lie with rainbow sprinkles and all

Chewy chewy and oh-so sweet

Sophia Nyunt

Loud, grainy gravel crunched under his feet as he stepped out of the taxi. He wasn’t on the clock, but his boss didn’t need to know that. In fact, no one needed to know what he was up to—not when it could potentially end his life. David Perez had been asked specifically by the brass not to go poking around where he didn't belong, not after his last case. But that wasn’t who David was, and while he hated himself for what he’d done, he couldn’t sit back when people were being killed.

Tanielle Dlamini - North East School of the Arts

Wynter sat in the office, staring at the paintings behind her therapist's head. The paintings weren’t intriguing at all, but they took her mind off of the smell of the room. Fabricated Febreze scents filtered through her nose hairs, and she wanted to rip out her hair.

Lily Thomas - Texas Online Preparatory

You never truly know when you fall asleep. One moment, you’re closing your eyes, and the next, it’s morning. Hell, it’s like that when waking up, too—you’re dreaming, drifting, and then all of a sudden, you have conscious thought again, and everything else becomes a distant, barely-there memory. It’s so hard to explain.

Isabella Tellez - Young Women’s Leadership Academy

My clock flashed midnight, and as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I thought I saw a figure, but as soon as they adjusted, it was gone. I got up to use the restroom, and I swear I saw something in the mirror, but when I looked again, there was nothing there. As I headed back to bed, I thought I saw it again, but I figured I was just tired, so I went to bed.

Tanielle Dlamini - North East Academy of the Arts

The leaves outside fly to the ground. The temperatures start to drop. Wal-Mart begins putting out dreadfully ugly Christmas sweaters. In comes the spur of pumpkin patch and cemetery dates, cuddling while watching horror movies, and sharing, more like stealing hoodies. Infamously known as Cuffing Season.

Cassia Perez - Young Women’s Leadership Academy

There has been a crack in your ceiling

For as long as you can remember

You’ve had dust on your face

As you rest

Below the stars in your room

Ophelia Grey - Young Women’s Leadership Academy

IF YOU ARE READING THIS, STAY INSIDE

THERE HAVE BEEN REPORTS OF A ‘NEW’ VIRAL ILLNESS ON THE RISE

Keira Clements - North East School of the Arts

When the front door creaks open,

Raspy groans and vodka flood my senses.

Surprise falls far behind me.

I was raised to be cautious,

To distrust every rise in tone.

Nicole Evangelista - Young Women’s Leadership Academy

How can one faithful flower

betray its stem?

Lily Thomas - Texas Online Preparatory School

I can’t match you for poetry. But what I can do is write this.

It’s November, and I haven’t seen you in 1, 2, 3, 4, or 5 months, and yet, you’re still here. You’re a thousand miles away, and you’re still here. Enveloping my brain, just a phone call away, and you’re here, you’re here, you’re here.

It’s getting colder. The plants, somehow, aren’t dying yet, but the months-long heat wave is slowly, slowly ending.

Lily Thomas - Texas Online Preparatory School

Explosions occur within my body,

within my veins, my blood, my brain

My heart, even, when I reach the stars

When they're in my grasp, that's when I'm done for

Audrina Miranda - Young Women’s Leadership Academy

Grief is a boulder charging its way down a mountain,

Thrashing around,

Flattening everything.

Breaking through the walls of trees that have held strong for decades,

Destroying the beauties of life that once were shared with them,