bu r n
[ v. 7 ] [ i. 1 ]
“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars...” ~ Jack Kerouac
“church of spilled blood”
[ art by scarlett wedergren ]
editorial policy
Marian presents Burn, a literary magazine that strives to showcase the original artwork, photography, and creative writing of our student body. Burn is published twice a year, once per semester and we accept submissions from all grade levels. Our submissions are judged anonymously and those that are selected are subject to minor grammatical or spelling corrections. Burn is a forum for creative student expression and our goal is to give students a place to publish their work and a place to have their peers appreciate their work. Burn is published by Automatic Printing Company. For the 2016-2017 school year, there will be 800 copies per semester. All titles of pieces and page numbers are set in FFF Tusj font. The text of the stories are set in GeoSans Light. The softwares used were Adobe InDesign CS6 and Adobe Phototshop CS6. Marian 7400 Military Ave. Omaha, NE 68134. burn@omahamarian.org
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16 & 17 front cover “funyak” [ olivia putnam ] “succulents bay” [ maggie 9:48 p.m. [ susana pettis ] prosser ] 18 & 19 2&3 “ferris mirror” [ rachel weremy ] “isolation” [ emma williams ] “altoona” [ becca williams ] “the hall” [ laura shaw ] our head in the clouds late night car rides [ brianna wessling ] [ gwendolyn johnson ] reflect [ susana pettis ] 4&5 20 & 21 “iowa state fair rooster” “cliffside” [ caroline drew } [ scarlet wedergren ] “gum is gross” [ rayna bartling ] “emily” [ caroline drew ] algebra [ brianna wessling ] 6&7 just a second [ megan “the walk of color” [ rachel doehner ] weremy ] 22 & 23 the unspoken reality “return to the sky” [ alyssa [ emily folts ] carlson ] 8&9 message in a bottle [ megan “humble hawaii” [ claire doehner ] kilborn ] the rain before the storm “room for change” [ rayna [ allison martin ] bartling ] in my wake [ brianna wessling ] broken bird [ gwendolyn 24 & 25 johnson ] “headless wonder” [ brigid 10 & 11 elbert ] “bulbs” [ emma williams ] “god couldn’t make up his “wooden” [ anna mantini ] mind” [ megan doehner ] idealist [ mary watson ] unconditionally black [ tylin 12 & 13 welch ] “renwick gallery” back cover [ becca townley ] “through another lens” 14 & 15 “brick wall waterfall” [ makayla [ andrea mikuls ] sedlacek ] “the golden gate city” [ emma herold ] shatter [ susana pettis ]
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01
late night car rides
[ writing by gwendolyn johnson ]
The handle turns slow enough to not make any noise It’s 12:30am and everyone is asleep The car is a block away And my body is shaking the entire way I’m cold Or nervous Or both It’s 2:00am and the radio is so loud that the thunder outside is as quiet as a cough I’m pressed against my best friend and a stranger We’re singing And laughing And that’s it It’s 3:37am and the gas station attendant thinks we are on something But the only thing in us is endorphins and adrenaline We feel reckless And stupid And invincible It’s 4:15am and the driver and I are the only one still awake enough to hold a conversation My best friend is a asleep on my shoulder and the stranger is a friend now too We are in front of my house And I’m a block away And the handle turns slow enough that it doesn’t make any noise
“isolation” [ photo by emma williams ]
03
“the hall” [ photo by laura shaw ]
02
[ photo by rayna bartling ]
“gum is gross�
05
“iowa state fair rooster” [ art by scarlet wedergren ]
04
the unspoken reality
[ writing by emily folts ]
They’ll assume you’ll never want to go with them to that little coffee shop on the corner of 13th street because that’s the place you first fell in love with his eyes. Because although they may look at you and think you are put together, they’ll start seeing all the pieces that were once you and him become just you. And what makes you different from any other girl? Maybe nothing. Maybe you’re just another girl who had too much reliance on a guy. Maybe you just lost one big piece of who you were. But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. They’ll just notice.
06
“the walk of color” [ photo by rachel weremy ]
07
broken bird [ writing by gwendolyn johnson ]
When I was five Flying seemed so easy Like all I had to do was flap my arms fast enough And I could take off and never come back Now I know the laws of physics won’t allow it But it doesn’t stop me from trying My arms flap incessantly Like a bird with broken wings Who hasn’t realized she’s stuck Who hasn’t realized she is staying where she is for now at least Until her wings mend Or a gust of wind takes her away Who hasn’t realized that maybe being stuck is okay That maybe she can’t fly away But she can walk And it may take longer to get to her destination But she will get there Who still regrets jumping out of the nest before she was ready Who still regrets pushing her mom away before she could properly feed herself Who had to learn how to do everything on her own The bird knows she is going She doesn’t know how far Or when But she is going And she’ll be dragging her broken wings behind her
“humble hawaii” [ photo by claire kilborn ]
09 09
“room for change� [ photo by rayna bartling ]
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“wooden” [ photo by anna mantini ]
idealist
[ writing by mary watson ]
10
To be an idealist is to be strong. Every day you long for world peace, for someone to help you pick up the fallen books, for everyone to be happy for the girl who makes the team instead of just her fellow players. For a kind note in your locker, a wish, a dream, laughter, a smile, you lay your heart on your sleeve and dare passerby to stare, to wonder at your bravery. And as the world defies your every hope, you tell them, I knew. I knew when I woke up this morning that the world is not perfect, that there is war, indifference, and jealousy. I knew. But that is the essence of an idealist, to know all of these things but hang on to hope. To truly believe today might be the day. And perhaps that is naïve. But it is not naïve to hope that things will get better. That’s called living.
“bulbs”
[ photo by emma williams ]
11
“watching colors” [ photo by becca townley ]
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13
“the golden gate city� [ photo by emma herold ]
15
“brick wall waterfall”
shatter
[ writing by susana pettis ]
[ photo by makayla sedlacek ]
14
how easy is it to break a heart? A few words, senseless and detached perhaps just the look you can ignore it sometimes and pretend you don’t see it the pieces shattered at my feet it’s not fair how you can smile at me like it’s nothing when I have trouble even meeting your eyes How easy is it to heal a heart? I guess I’ll let you know if I ever get there.
funyak
[ photo by olivia putnam ]
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9: 48 p.m. [ writing by susana pettis ] In retrospect, I realize that nothing I could have done would have stopped me from letting you lead me to where I am. It’s a battle that neither of us win because as much as you hope that your knives did more than scratch the surface, I would never show you that. I wouldn’t show you the scarred tissue or the hours and hours I spent stitching myself together. You can hope all you want that I finally feel everything at once, that it hits me like a wave that overtakes me and pulls me under, but I’m at the eye of the hurricane and I’m tired of fighting my way through the typhoon. I’m tired of fighting you and I’m tired of fighting me. I’m tired of sleepless nights, dissecting your words and your blank face. I’m tired of watching you sit back and smirk like you did nothing wrong and you had no control of the pathway to where we are now. When was the exact moment that your hand tightened and you started dragging me instead of supporting me? Was it when we were trudging through the snow or was it in the sticky nights of the summer? Was it when I separated myself in fear of spreading the poison further into your system? Was it when I couldn’t let you go but I surely couldn’t let you stay? You claim there are two parts of us. Then why did I feel like there were three? A sick triangle between me, you, and your pride. You’re scared of hurting yet you still shove the knife in deeper and deeper. In retrospect, I realize that nothing I could have done would have stopped me from letting you lead me to where I am. Yet there I was at 9:48 p.m. hating only one person more than I hated you: myself.
17
our head in the clouds
reflect
We all live tight rope lives Constantly striving towards that perfect balance Carefully tiptoeing towards a destination we’re not sure we want
You cover parts of yourself with my reflection But when the fog is gone All you see looking back is the sad truth of who you are And the sad truth of who I am.
[ writing by brianna wessling ]
[ writing by susana pettis ]
Most of us lack the grace to stride confidently The rope shakes beneath us and our legs strain We slip against our most ironclad will We slip when we doze off in class We slip when we miss a deadline We slip when we forget to say “please” and “thank you” and “I love you” Sometimes we hit the ground hard Sometimes our insecurities and mistakes splatter on the pavement But we always pick ourselves back up
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“altoona”
[ photo by becca williams ]
“ferris mirror” [ photo by rachel weremy ]
19
just a second
algebra
[ writing by megan doehner ]
[ writing by brianna wessling ]
Sometimes I’ll go through an instant Where my lungs ache to scream And my mind wants to crawl out from under my skin I want to be abandoned in a field And I want to be held close And I want to have another name Another start My heart threatens to fly out of my chest And ghosts of tears haunt my eyes
Use p of a to determine the value of happiness in your life You talk as if it is just that simple As if you could find the perfect formula, And then everything would be okay I’m not a math person But I know how to determine the value of a variable I know how you decided how much I was worth And that you decided that that amount was not enough But happiness is not a formula You cannot plug people in as one value and see if they work Happiness is an uphill battle One where you fight for the people you love to stay with you
Then I breathe And I go on
It’s long, and hard, and exhausting, And so so worth it I wish you the best with your impossible equation I have my own mountain to conquer
“emily” [ photo by caroline drew ]
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“cliffside” [ photo by caroline drew ]
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message in a bottle [ writing by megan doehner ] She was a message in a bottle Bobbing along the murky waters And I had found her But she had sea legs And thought she was still drifting around And only let me read bits of the pieces inside of her
in my wake [ writing by brianna wessling ] You must think I’m like water Easily directed, crystal clear Clean and pure and life giving Or maybe you see me as the earth Always there for you Stable, forgiving, easy to trust If only you could see that I’m fire Unforgiving, uncontrollable, unpredictable Leaving nothing but ashes behind me
23
the rain before the storm [ writing by allison martin ]
You were the rain before the storm, and boy you were beautiful But all you did is encourage this storm upon me, and boy did you mess me up
“return to the sky�
22
[ photo by alyssa carlson ]
headless wonder [ art by bridgid elbert ]
[ writing by tylin welch ]
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unconditionally black [ writing by tylin welch ]
i want my young african american boy to know it is okay to be as unapologetically black as he can be to know his masculinity or lack of should not be questioned that he can be as feminine as he wants to be that he can express himself however he wants to that he doesn’t have to fall under the stereotypes that he can live his life as he wants to he will wear what he wants he will not have to stay within the gender boundaries society sets up for him he will not be concerned with the thoughts of others if they are not positive and uplifting or helpful criticism which he will always be willing to take he will be willing to evolve and revolve and to inspire it is even okay if he does not inspire everyone, i hope he inspires me one day unapologetically black he will be and for my black daughter she will not have the feeling of societal pressure because i will let her know that it is okay for her hair to be tall as mountains because that is just how it grows it grows up i will lift her up always i will never let anyone put her down because of her name whatever that may be i will make sure that she will ensure that all of her friends, teachers, professors, coworkers, and whoever else she encounters will not have the ignorance of not pronouncing her name right they will try and try until the ignorance leaves their throats and the correct pronunciation of her name rolls off their tongue instead Zoya Asha Amina Nailah they will not proofread and correct her to their liking she will unapologetically be her as he will be unapologetically him
“god couldn’t make up his mind” [ photo by megan doehner ]
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