December 2016
Midnight Writers
Table of Contents Cover: “This is so Cool,” an illustration by Tech- Page 9: nicolor Zebra
This Page: “Winter Wonderland,” a photograph
“Tears,” an illustration by The Masked Lady “Stop and Go,” a poem by Aradia
by Maleficent
Page 10:
Ask Aphro & Dite
Page 11:
Page 3:
Aphro and Dite help out Snow. Y and Sick of Songs
You learn a little more about me
Dawn wishes you a great new year
Indecisiveness:
A Dose of Dawn
Page 4:
“Defrost,” a short story by Janus “Winter,” a poem by Technicolor Zebra “Ice Princess,” an illustration by Hestia “The Nutcracker,” a poem by Snowflake
Page 5:
“Brimstone,” an illustration by Calliope “I am Fire” a poem by Eris “Metro Loop,” a short story by Janus
Page 12:
“Take My Hand,” an illustration by The Masked Lady “The Backwards Enemy,” a poem by The Masked Lady “You Found Me,” a short story by Aradia “Stop Resisting,” an illustration by The Masked Lady
Page 13:
“Ice Tea,” an illustration by Calliope “Ficus,” a poem by Janus “Obsessed with Distress, “ a poem by Caprinae “The City,” an illustration by Calliope
“Merry Christmas Violet,” a poem by The Masked Lady “Merry Christmas Violet,” an illustration by The Masked La“What is Snow,” a short story by The Masked Lady dy “The Devil’s Library,” an illustration by The Masked Lady “Love,” a short story by Maleficent “Is This Snow?” an illustration by The Masked Lady
Page 14:
Page 6:
Page 15:
“I Wish We Could Remember What We Were Fighting For,” “Supernova: Chapter I,” a story by A.T. Pacem an illustration by The Masked Lady “About You,” a poem by A.T. Pacem “I Wish I Thanked You More,” an illustration by The Masked “Supernova,” continued Lady “Supernova,” an illustration by Caprinae “Love Words,” a poem by The Masked Lady “I Wish We Could Go Back,” an illustration by The Masked Lady “Homecoming,” a poem by A.T. Pacem
Page 16:
Page 7:
“I Wish You Were Right Here Right Now,” an illustration by The Masked Lady “Diamond Earrings,” a short story by Iris “Aching,” a short story by Hestia “I Wish You Would Wake Up,” an illustration by The Masked Lady “Make an Appearance and Stay,” a poem by Dawn “I Wish You Would Come Back,” an illustration by The Masked Lady
Page 8:
“Smile,” a short story by The Masked Lady “I Wish I Told You All These Things,” an illustration by The Masked Lady “I Wish I Could See You Smile One More Time,” an illustration by The Masked Lady “I Wish… I Could Have Saved You,” an illustration by The Masked Lady “Inside a Day,” a poem by Hypnos
issuu.com/midnightwriters midnightwriters2017@gmail.com
Ask Aphro & Dite
Indecisiveness
A Dose of Dawn
Dear Aphro, During the winter months, all of my friends get ice powers. They are able to shoot ice and snow out of their hands, and I am left out of the fun. Aphro, how do I get ice powers so that I can join in on the fun? Sincerely, Snow. Y
Last month this middle column was Kakia introducing herself, and the column to the left was horoscopes. But that isn’t me.
Musings for the Last Month of the Year As 2016 comes to a close, though this means my childhood is quickly approaching its end and my graduation year will soon be upon us, I’m quite excited. 2016 was a year filled with SAT retakes, the stress of junior year, and, of course, the dreaded college applications. However, it’s easy to focus only on the negatives. I shouldn’t let the positives get away without mention. At first glance, second glace, or even at third glance, I wouldn’t be able to find much I enjoyed about the year. But I really do have a lot to be thankful for. I don’t want to get into the basics, but I will say that I’m thankful that my biggest problems in life are related to school and studying and my educational future. There are so many people in this world that would kill to have these problems. The last month of 2016 means that a new beginning will be upon us all soon. And though this doesn’t change much, as it’s only the middle of the school year and we will all still carry on with the same lives we had in 2016, it gives people the idea that a new year should bring new changes. Everyone loves the idea of a clean slate in at least a few areas of their lives. Who wouldn’t want to start over or improve in something? So I’ll conclude my musings with a few of my own aspirations for the New Year. I hope to find out more about myself this year, learn more about what I love, and then do more of love. I hope to eat healthy, stay fit, and remain consistent with all of these things. Now ask yourself, what do you hope to do with this New Year?
Dear Snow. Y, First off, it is possible that you have not reached the age to receive your ice powers. Nevertheless, I know a few ways that can accelerate the process. You can start by contacting my dear friend the ice fairy. If you ask nicely and do everything she requires of you, she can grant you your ice powers. However, it can be difficult to keep up with where she is, so good luck finding her. There is another way, but it can be a bit painful: sticking your hands in ice water for 24 hours. It will for-sure give you your ice powers instantly, but you hands will be numb, and there are many risks. Or, you could just wait a while for them to come. Don’t be so impatient. You can always find other ways to have fun with your friends. With Love, Aphro Dear Dite, During this time of year, holiday music is playing everywhere I go. I don’t mind it at all. After a while, though, it gets stuck in my head and there is nothing I can do! How do I get the songs out of my head? Sincerely, Sick of Songs Dear Sick of Songs, I am very sorry to hear about your situation. There is nothing that you can do. The songs will be there every December. There is no escape. But, you could try to avoid hearing the upbeat music by buying some headphones, or by violently screeching whenever you hear some of the songs. But you would have to do it every loudly in order not to hear it, if you can spare the embarrassment. Hope that helps… a bit! With Love, Dite
I am President Eris and I am indecisive. This column will most likely just be me ranting about something or other every month, but who knows really. That is the future. So this month I am just going to write whatever comes to my head. Here we go :) I really like smiley faces, not emojis, but a colon and a ending parentheses. I feel like it shows more emotion, I don’t know why, I am just weird. I hope those of you who are applying to colleges get into your top choices, but just remember, if you don’t, it isn’t the end of the world. Wherever you end up for college you will have a good experience, life works weirdly. I don’t want to sound like a cliché, “life works in mysterious ways,” because I believe you have the power to make your life however you chose, but it is true. Life is weird. Sometimes its great, sometimes not so great, but it is what you decide to do with the life you are given that matters. Please don’t give up, life sucks, but its also great. Some great things in life: friendships, tea, holidays, snow, cold weather, warm weather, food, ice cream, art, expression, individuality, freedom, music, chocolate, puppies, warm showers, hot baths, love, weekends, parties, and most importantly, we are all alive and breathing. I know I sound all sappy, but I really, truly love each and everyone of you and I am so glad you are all alive. Without you guys I wouldn’t be sitting here typing this, I wouldn’t have the opportunity to publish your artwork and make you guys feel proud of your work. I am President Eris, I am indecisive, but I will always love each and every one of you.
Special thanks to Sra. Steele, Eris, The Masked Lady, Technicolor Zebra, Calliope, A.T. Pacem, Hestia, and Dawn
3
Defrost By Janus Far away, there is a room. Hidden in a forgotten castle, it has been untouched for centuries. Every surface is coated with a thick layer of ice. The floor is frozen, its slippery surface a hazard to those whom dare cross. Furniture is shapeless, hunched with piles of snow. The windows have shattered, and drifts of snow cover the floor. In the middle of this room, there is a bed, and on the bed is a girl. Her chest rises slightly as she breathes in and out. Her eyelashes are fringed with ice, her skin blue and cold, her clothes frozen to her body. For so long, the girl waited for someone to save her from her imprisonment. Nobody dared to enter the crystallized castle, glide down halls on ice skates, “Ice Princess,” an illustration by Hestia
and brave freezing stairs and glacial chambers. She was alone. She wanted to protect herself from the world for so long, enclosing herself in a cage of ice, but she knew it was impossible. Frost won’t make her thoughts disappear, only deaden them until she only remembered the past in bursts. The winter, once her companion, enclosed her until she felt trapped. Her time measured in eons, periods of melt and growth, like a glacier. Cold tears drip down her cheeks. Water puddles around where her legs used to be. It took years for her to get this far, though the initial spell lasted only a second. She worked patiently, slowly removing her frigid bonds. The only way out was to thaw, to break free from her self-inflicted confinement. One day her room will warp and thaw until there is only a puddle. She will melt until her heart is exposed to the air. Her tears are joyful as she waits – for salvation.
Winter By Technicolor Zebra
When the snow starts to fall In heaps of cold, white sheets Never leaving my blankets of warmth Taking sips of hot chocolate and Eating all of the cookies and soon Regretting it because I ate too much
The Nutcracker By Snowflake Whirling, twirling in the air Snowflakes getting in my hair These snowflakes didn’t fall from the sky They’re made of shredded paper that’s very dry Soon the show is over and I take a bow I’m not very tired, even though it’s late now My excitement warms the chilly night As I go outside where the snow is bright Then I pass Santa caroling on the street He gives me a present because he’s sweet I open the present eager to see what’s inside And to my surprise, it’s the Nutcracker character I played with pride
4
Merry Christmas Violet By the Masked Lady Hey you know I don't really like Christmas Every since the incident Christmas just isn’t enjoyable anymore I know Quite depressing isn’t it? But when I look at snowfall It looks like frozen tears that the clouds cry. You know Ginger bread was one of his favorite cookies But now that he is gone They now taste like rock salt that they toss on the roads I remember building snowmen with him But just like memories they all melt away Christmas gifts are now apologies “I’m so sorry for your loss” You know it’s been so long since I smiled But even though you know I hate Christmas Here you are Standing in front of my door Covered in piles of snow You cheerfully smile And tell me “ Lets make Christmas your favorite holiday again.” Don't you remember? I don't like gifts. But you wont stop trying to give this to me This giant pink present that smells like gingerbread You know I do sometimes miss enjoying Christmas But it’s just so hard I wish I could just keep smiling like you right now I finally agree to open the gift And inside is this strange green fuzzy plant I’m so confused And you start laughing like a little kid My cheeks turn bright peach Because all of the sudden You gave me a soft kiss on the cheek Still so confused My face becomes extremely red I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks “ It's a mistletoe silly.” You laugh I’m just dumbfounded But I feel a smile move across my lips “Merry Christmas Violet.” You laugh
“Merry Christmas Violet,” an illustration by The Masked Lady
Love By Maleficent Happy holidays you know what I want ? More than anything else, someone who doesn't make me feel lonely. I know that's a lot to ask for someone who's getting a trip to Israel as her gift, but more than anything I don't want to feel alone. I don't want to walk into a crowded room and feel alone, I want to find the reason I wake up with a smile on my face. I know that all I've experienced is “ young love” but he made me happy. When I was with him I wasn't alone and I wasn't the angsty teen writing this: I was the happy-go-lucky girl who had a great relationship that she would later lose to her best friend. And let me tell you they say it gets better and they say it goes away, but when you're suddenly not alone that feeling can never go away. You'll be glad they're happy, healthy and safe, but part of you will always wish they were happy, healthy, and safe with you. 5
about you By A.t. Pacem i hate the summer sun, and would rather opt for the black birds against autumn clouds in the afternoon, when all i can see is the love i have for the crimson, the gold, the orange leaves that stain the asphalt and swirl in perfect tandem, back and forth, across double yellow bars on ash.
“I Wish We Could Remember What We Were Fighting For,” an illustration by The Masked Lady
Love Words
By the Masked Lady You know I never really got to thank you For all the times you listened to me Even know I can be annoying crybaby I’ll always be grateful, grateful I’ll never forget those times When I was struggling with school And nothing in the textbooks made any sense But you gave me big thumbs up And said “ Don't worry Ill help you pass!” All these feelings I felt with you I hold deeply, deeply Even though people made fun of you For being friends with a girl But you didn't care Instead you took my hand And we walked far away from their hateful words These words I want to say Are full of love Because I’m so thankful, thankful Even though I’m so foolish and clumsy You gave all your affection and your love “I Wish We Could Go Back,” an illustration by The Masked Lady
i notice the crook you give your neck when you run a hand through your hair. i notice the way my name sits on your lips,
i don’t like stars because i don’t like my name. but you were something else, entirely, a supernova sending color through my veins with every step closer to the edge of the planet. i want to step over. and you’re not letting me; i don’t twist from your grip and instead, instead. i stay.
That one car trip where I was so tired That I needed something to rest on And you gladly gave me your shoulder to lean on I never felt so happy, happy That time when one of my friends told me “I don't want to be friends anymore.” I couldn't stop crying that I locked myself in my room But you convinced me to come out And you comforted me, comforted me You and me It was meant to be I was suppose to meet you the day you moved here And these words for you Are love words Because I like you, actually that's a lie Ha ha The truth is I love you So thank you for everything
“I Wish I Thanked You More,” an illustration by The Masked Lady
homecoming By A.T. Pacem
6
waiting to be kissed, and the flint in your too deep eyes. i roll my awkward ones and nudge you away with my shoulder.
if i could love you the same way the ocean falls victim to the moon i would. if i could love you between strands of of gold and auburn lips i would. if i could see the moonlight dance on your cheeks, and the quiet excitement of jubilance in your chest i would, i would. but i won’t, and not out of a fear for myself and the fragile heart behind your glass ribs but rather— if i could love you the same way the ocean falls victim to the moon i would. if i could love you between strands of of gold and auburn lips i would. if i could see the moonlight dance on your cheeks, and
the quiet excitement of jubilance in your chest i would, i would. but i won’t, only, maybe simply because I never liked the sun in your mouth and her rays in your hands and because the— if i could love you the same way the ocean falls victim to the moon i would. if i could love you between strands of of gold and auburn lips i would. if i could see the moonlight dance on your cheeks, and the quiet excitement of jubilance in your chest i would, i would. but i won’t. because i loved your moonlight, your supernovas, your dances in the middle of my dim living room, your kisses up and down my spine but never really. you. and i was never really sorry. for you.
“I Wish You Were Right Here Right Now,” an illustration by The Masked Lady
Diamond Earrings By Iris
The city killed my dreams with its lack of moonbeams. I traveled all night with my suitcase closed tight, But when I parked the car and looked to the stars All those city lights made me miss dark midnights. So I packed up the trunk emptied of the junk, All those maps filled with tourist traps, And left the city with my heart a little more empty. I wrote a new dream, something new to believe, About a new city that could fill me up plenty. I wrote about a place, and every single way That I could get there to feel the new city air.
Aching: intense or wistful sadness; throbbing pain. By Hestia
For the first time in months, a young girl steps outside. She freezes at the sudden drop in temperature, and takes a deep breath. The cold, crisp air is a refreshing change to the familiar stuffiness of a messy bedroom. She looks down at her feet, eyes fixated on a name engraved on a gravestone. The girl takes out her phone, and checks the date. It is winter, and so much has changed. She sighs, taking out a piece of paper and pen, and settles herself on a nearby bench. It was time to let go. The girl picks up her pen, and begins writing. As I watching the snowflakes fall, I can feel our memories fading. The last drop of laughter with you vanished with the warmth of summer. Like the coming of fall, we fell. Hard. It was only with a phone call and trembling hesitation in your voice did it all crumble. You were disappearing. All I could do was watch in vain, as my vision became blurred with endless crowds of people and the rushing of hospital beds and wheelchairs and sirens. Within seconds, the maelstrom dissipated. I was left behind at the waiting room, feet swinging back and forth in anticipation. Everything happened at once, and disappeared in a flash. All I could do was watch as they took you away. They didn’t even let me see your operation. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.
“I Wish You Would Wake Up,” an illustration by The Masked Lady
Somewhere I had never seen before besides on the TV at four. Because it’s easier to believe in a dream I have not seen. Everything that’s real leaves me numb to feel Because all the real things break my heart and my wings. Tonight I’ll go out and try to find someone to cure me of this drought. Slip on my diamond earrings to hid my heart, devoid of feelings. Earrings that from a dream, something I used to believe. Hey city, don’t you feel any pity? You stole my dream, and tonight – I lost my Diamond Earrings.
I still remember their final words: “I’m sorry. We did the best we could. He...didn’t make it.” Had I believed them, I would have left my room months ago. Before they hauled you away. I remember the look on your face. You were in so much pain. You were aching. Is this how you felt, the sudden crash of boulders on the roof of your existence, when you found out? When you only had weeks to live, but somehow it was reduced to thirty six hours and five minutes. Was this it, the constant throb of pain that almost made you wish you were pumped with anesthetics until your body became numb? Or was it the numbness, minutes before the operation, and you wish you could feel again but inside your mind was nothing. No emotion. Not even sadness, anger. Just. Nothing. I wonder if you moved on peacefully. I hope the aching stopped for you. I’d like to think that if you were here now, you’d tell me to get up. You’d tell me to keep breathing. Move on for the both of us. The girl pauses for a moment, adjusting her hat to cover the tips of her ears. She touched her cheek for a moment, numb fingers grazing a stray tear drop and brushing it away. She takes a deep breath, and picks up her pen for the final time. Well, I’m up now. I’m outside. Winter is here, but you are not. But I am, and I’ll keep walking. For us. She folds the sheet of paper in half and gently tears it in two, then three, and so on. The girl collects the slips in the palm of her hand, and blows. She watches the pieces dance in the air, a melancholic ballet, before finally vanishing in the distance. “Goodbye.” she whispers, words swept away by the winter breeze.
Make an Appearance and Stay
“I Wish You Would Come Back,” an illustration by The Masked Lady
By Dawn Voices surround my head Everywhere I go I’m clouded by opinions and thoughts And when I search and seek, I hear everyone’s but mine Where is it? I shovel through the depths of my mind And find bits and pieces. I’m unable to put them together I’m unable to make anything. I feel lost and out of place Amongst those who are found and safe. When will I find those missing parts? My mind wanders and ponders about Galloping through the experiences in my head The shadows of the bad tower over The sunshine of the good, Hidden and afraid to reveal their true colors. I plead with them to make an appearance But when they do, I’m not watching.
7
Smile
By the Masked Lady It seems I can't stop crying I wish I could I wish I could It is all kind of pointless, isn’t it? Because the tears just won't stop coming It just won’t stop no matter how much I try Why is this happening to me? I can't even remember what happiness feels like When was the last time I smiled? I don't even remember And that is when he appeared A boy with random streaks of purple hair He looks like someone I once knew But I can’t remember who “ You don't need to feel sad anymore.” he says “ Let me help you remember how to smile.” The words “ please help me” fell out of my mouth without realization And just like that he raises his pale hands Suddenly flowers bloom out of my fallen tears Then I was surrounded by lush gardens And I couldn't help but smile He helps me remember what joy feels like A forgotten sensation in my heart He truly is an angel Its as if my cries were heard And my guardian angel was sent to save me He replaces my cries with laughter With his dumb jokes and terrible puns Cakes and sweets And so many things he gives to me I can't help but laugh How did he know those things would unlock my heart? Every time he replaces a tear with a smile Fragments of a distant memory come back to me
Inside a Day, Outside a Year
Like a computer glitch, a crack in this world breaks open And right in front of me I see the truth I fully remember that lost memory That time appears in front of me The same boy but without purple hair is lying in a hospital bedI see me holding his hand I remember how cold his hands were And no matter how much I tried I couldn't keep them warm I knew he wasn't going to wake up He was going to a distant place and never coming back But in my memory I wouldn't stop screaming “ Why won't you wake up?” As tears dripped down on his hand No matter how many people tried to pull me away I refused and held his hand Because I wanted to be there just in case he woke up But he didn't… “You remember, huh?” The boy with purple hair said calmly “I'm sorry I left you all alone to fend for yourself.” He embraced me oh so tightly “I can't stay here but all I wanted was to return the favor.” “It's ok if you have to cry.” “But all I want is for you is to smile again.” I felt his warmth fading away His hands began disappearing from my grasp I noticed a tear dripping down his face But yet he just continued to smile Before he totally faded away I heard him whisper in my ear “ Smile.”
“I Wish I Told You All These Things,” an illustration by The Masked Lady
“I Wish I Could See You Smile Again,” an illustration by The Masked Lady “I Wish… I Could Have Saved You,” an illustration by The Masked Lady
As he disappeared into the light I felt a gentle warm breeze The world he created for me blew away And I was now standing in reality Tears still fell down my cheek but I had this new warm feeling I wiped my tears and Smiled
Our sight can’t keep up. Inside a Day By Hypnos The hard earned truths of the world Time moves at a turtles pace day by day Can drip away slowly Combining into a year blurred out Like viscous black ink By the shear speed of everything Washed away to reveal the ugly truths
And kind revelations. Outside a day nothing changes. Cycles repeated over and over Hair permanently wind-whipped And out of breath. The world stays the same
“Tears,� an illustration by The Masked Lady
Stop & Go By Aradia The woods may be lovely, dark, and deep And you may have promises to keep But the miles you go before you sleep Are all you have when words are cheap
9
“Brimstone,” an illustration by Calliope
I Am Fire By Eris
10
Everyone runs Everyone hides Shutting me out Even as I scream and shout They never let me in And then mourn where I’ve been I just want a friend, In this heat without end They run from my flames And when there is no one else to blame, They all say that I am the destroyer, But my feelings aren’t their toys.
I will become what they say Then they will all obey The world is my stage And I am bubbling with rage Because I am fire In my yellow, red, and orange attire They will all scream When I set off my brightest beam Then they will bawl Because I am fire, The destroyer of all
Metro Loop
By Janus “The train should be here by now,” Gail grumbled. She glanced at her watch. 6:21am. The train usually arrived at 6:10am, giving her an hour to get to work on time. Her stomach clenched into a tight ball as she mulled over the repercussions of being late. If she wasn’t at the law firm by 7:15am, her boss would yell at her again, and… The smell of stale wind blew through the station, and the train arrived, chugging like an old man running a marathon. It slowed to a stop and with a groan, the doors slid open. “Finally, took them long enough.” Gail ran inside, her feet aching from standing so long in high heels. As the door closed, she plopped onto a beige seat. There weren’t too many people that rode the metro as early as her, so she wasn’t surprised to see only a few commuters sitting in the grimy car. Eyes swollen from lack of sleep, most of the travelers stared at their phones or dozed off. The air itself was sour from the countless bodies that crammed into the train every day. Gail pulled down the hem of her navy skirt and took a few deep breaths. Pull yourself together, she thought, and looked at her watch. It’s only 6:23 a.m. If I can get off the Red Line at 6:45 a.m., then I’ll have enough time.
“Step back, doors closing. Please move to the center of the car.” The doors shut slowly, and the train took off. Gail tried to make herself comfortable for the long commute. She shifted her bag to the chair next to her. A man sitting across from her coughed, a hacking wheeze that filled the air. After a few seconds, he regained his breath and wiped his flushed face with his sleeve. Gail angled her body away from the man and peered out of the window. It took Gail a few moments to realize something was wrong. It was taking too long to get to the next stop, Friendship Heights. At most, it was only a minute or two ride through the tunnel. It had to have been at least five minutes, but the train hadn’t arrived at the station yet. Nobody else seemed to be wondering when the next stop would be. “Jacob, you’ll have to pick Timmy up at 6:00, I’m working until 7:30 again,” a woman said shrilly, cradling a shiny smartphone to her ear. A man coughed loudly. Maybe it was just her imagination, but Gail was sure she heard that man cough in exactly the same way only a second ago. One girl sitting a row behind Gail took out a compact mirror and foundation. Carefully, she started applying it to her face. The train went over a bump, and the whole car rattled. There was a thud, and someone swore in the back of the car.
Gail’s eyes drooped. As she struggled to stay awake, a poster flit by in the tunnel, emblazoned with the word SLUMBER in bright red letters. Occasionally, there were movie advertisements or graffiti in the metro tunnels that would flash by in the blink of an eye, but she hadn’t seen a cryptic message in her several years of commuting on the metro. Gail checked her watch, struggling to read the numbers in the dim light. After a few seconds, she makes out the time, 6:24am. Suddenly, the minute hand quivered, and to her surprise, started moving backwards. Then it slid forward, spinning wildly. It continued to oscillate, as she stared at the watch. “I really need more sleep,” she mumbled, and looked out the window. The SLUMBER poster winked past her. “Jacob, you’ll have to pick Timmy up at 6:00, I’m working until 7:30 again,” a woman said shrilly. Wasn’t it the same one from before? Another cough. The girl took out her makeup, and started putting it on like she did a minute ago? A bump rattled the train. Someone cursed. The SLUMBER poster. Gail checked her watch. It was 6:24am. The minute hand started to move back and forth. “I really need more sleep,” she mumbled. The SLUMBER poster raced by. As time continued to repeat, Gail wondered whether she would be late for work. 11
“Take My Hand,” an illustration by The Masked Lady
You Found Me By Aradia "Beloved," said I, "look at me." "My heart," she said, "I see you." I shook my head slowly. "Nay, you see nothing." "What do you wish me to see?" A breath. And I said, "Many small things. Many large. "The light under my lashes "My arms and their reach "At the corner of my mouth, a kiss "And yet, I feel alone." Her eyes smiled at me, though her mouth didn't move. "And thus spake Zarathustra," she said, "and thus speaketh I." She cupped my face in her hands And wiped my cheeks as though there were tears. "Some days I fear I've lost you to the space between the stars "Yet you always come back, love, and ask me how I am "Whether I am well, and whether I need you
Don't be so foolish and follow their lies Those beasts all smirk and laugh “ What an idiot” Living in a miserable life You cover yours eyes There are the nightmares you Come on stop crying! wish not to talk about You should be happy And they’re coming back to We both know its true haunt you. Because you are the Queen of Hey, we both know this would this tragedy happen You know you can’t keep hiding “ No let go of me!” you weep Do you remember our promise? “I want no more of this!” You cry over and over That I will come back Don't you understand? This is Welcome back to my prison fate! Don't try escaping Such a foolish girl “Oh god please no!” you cry Stop resisting already! Accept it already “ Maybe you are right,” you It was meant to be mumble That you would fall back into “ There is no stopping this.” my web Do you see those putrid people? I’m glad we agree but hey What are you doing? Those disgusting people were Why are you holding that knife? the ones that hurt you the most “ Hey, we both know its true.” You got to admit You chuckle I’m better than them “ That I am a monster just like Come and take my hand you.” Lets go back to our fairytale “ So stop resisting...”
The Backwards Enemy By the Masked Lady
"Dearest, you are not the lone, wandering rebel with no cause "Wherever you walk, many footprints follow beside you "You are not alone in a crowd." She paused. "The love in your veins drips to the ground "And it leaves a sorrowful trail behind you as you walk "Many walk behind you, mopping it off the tiled floor "Yet still you bleed, though you don't know it." She sat down, patting the seat beside her. "Come, precious, sit beside me, and let me bandage your wounds "Let the skin heal smooth and unbroken "And may the same befall you and your heart." I let her words wash over me, And heal me of the weight of my years. Like confectioner's sugar, light and Full of love. “Stop Resisting,” an illustration by The Masked Lady
“Ice Tea,” an illustration by Calliope
Ficus By Janus Their hunched trunks pray to glass gods Moss threaded through gnarled fingers Trailing the ground Curling at boney feet. Heads bowed, the humble servants Pray for summer sun to reach their skin Through the glass of the greenhouse A prayer never answered. Large fronds hide shameful rough bark Twisting around the crooked trunks Until leafy fingers grasp at rails Begging for freedom from the garden But their pleas are ignored Fingers only brush cold metal Like rosaries, moss sways in the steamy air Dotted with dew. Mist hisses through the steamy room How can this placate tropical plants Used to summer monsoons? Yet they pray.
Obsessed With Distress By Caprinae She told me I'm not perfect, She told me I was defect, I was an object to neglect, She spoke in a dialect that left me wrecked and I feel like she's making me an addict. I don't think I've been in love but I felt something close to it when I realized I was falling, when I got tired of hauling feelings around, bawling with the name calling that came sprawling from her mouth I say I'm tired but I don't want to go to sleep. I'm tired of weeping in a heap in my bed but I refuse to take the leap to turn out the lights and it's hard to say it but the voice that tells me to press deep to forgo upkeep is nice. Enticing, devising, she tells me just listening won't suffice. And so I do what she tells me, I eat up every word. I don't know how much I've lost, but I know I have not gained, I'm chained and contained, trained to follow her demands. So if you've found me in the sea, know it wasn't me. I've just fallen in love with falling and the ground just became reality. “The City,” an illustration by Calliope
13
What Is Snow? By the Masked Lady What is snow? I read about it in the books in the library. But why have I never seen it before? Out of all the collections of books the Pumpkin King has I cant find an answer. Ugh this is so frustrating. I continue sitting grumbling in front of the desk in the library. I don't know why I want to know so badly. I just do for some dumb reason. I notice Mr. Pumpkin sitting on my desk. He seems to be looking at a book on Pumpkin history. I didn't know pumpkins could read. Even if they could how can he flip the pages? Eve points in Mira’s direction where she continues to rest on an open book. “ Ha ha what was she doing?” the Pumpkin King chuckles. “ I think she was reading a book about snow.” Eve chuckles. “The Devil’s Library,” an illustration by The Masked Lady “Is This Snow?” an illustration by The Masked Lady
“ Mr. Pumpkin?” I ask politely. “ Yes Mira?” Mr. Pumpkin responded as he looked up from his book. “ What is snow?” I curiously ask. “Snow is frozen rain drops.” Mr. Pumpkin quickly answered. “ Really?” I ask surprisingly. “ I think so anyways.” Mr. pumpkin nervously answers. “ Why does it snow?” I continue to ask. Mr. pumpkin looks at me dumbfounded without a response. “ Do you know?” I question him. “Nope” Mr. Pumpkin chuckles. “ Well do you know why it doesn't snow here?” I continue to ask. “ Same reason why there are no clouds here.” Mr. Pumpkin laughs. “ Why?” I ask. “ Mira do you know where we are?” Mr. Pumpkin slowly asks. “ In the castle.” I confidently reply. “ Yeah… but where is the castle?” Mr. Pumpkin sighs. “ Uh here.” I confusingly say. “And where is here?” I don't respond since I realize I don't know the answer. “You know what Mira?” Mr. Pumpkin interrupts. “ I think you might have missed a few books about snow.” “ Really? Where?” I shouted excitingly. “Here take me with you and I will show you.” Mr. Pumpkin re sponds. *** “ Mira where are you?” The pumpkin king calls as he steps into the library. “ Oh hello sir!” Eve responds as she continues putting books away. “ Mira is at her desk. She fell asleep.” 14
Supernova: I By A.T. Pacem
of the public court and out into the city.
Erik takes Ana’s hand, Continued on Next Page makes a show of kissing her in front of their friends, and there’s wolf “Pass it, here! Here!” The ball’s thrown into whistling and clapping wide open white palms, abound. Ana shoves him and Erik lets the air snap off, grin wide, and Erik it between his hands be- only smiles when he feels fore he jumps, spins, and her hand in his again. He’s surrounded by sends the ball careening into the net. Score. With a friends in the best city on whip of laughter he turns Earth and nothing, he thinks, can beat this. back to his teammates, arms spread for hugs and The teams run into a high fives and the score- pizza place and take over board’s changed from 27- an entire half of tables 26 to 28-26. with rambunctious laughHe turns to Ana, captain of the other team with a smirk and corner of one eyebrow perking up. “I think I know who’s buying our rounds tonight.” He says, lighthearted in his stride back towards his side of the handball court. “We all know it’s because your wallet can’t handle a loss,” “Is that right?” “Mhm.” There’s a gentle glint in her eyes and Erik remembers just why he likes her so. His team loses in the end by a point, but it’s all laughter and the rustling of track jackets as clumps of teenagers make their way out
They shake hands, and Erik’s stunned by the name. “Asbjørn?”
pauses and Erik’s walked right into a smile again.
“Yeah, I know. A mouthful. Just call me Bjørn,”
“It kind of was.” He laughs well enough not to see the way Bjørn does too. “Where do you go to school?” He asks, tucking his hands into his pockets before his feet gently rock him back and forth.
“No, no, it’s - it’s nice?”
“That felt unnecessary,”
He laughs, uneasy of himself, and all Bjørn does is grin with crow’s feet dancing at the cor“The Academy,” ners of his eyes. Erik fid“Of Fine Arts?” dles with his receipt and “Mhm,” stuffs it in his jacket pocket, finding his worn “So you’re an artist?” adidas more bearable “Yeah. What about than the way the fluores- you?” cent lighting hits Bjørn’s “Me? I, uh - I just startter and squishing of their jaw. ed school at the Universibodies together to make He looks back to Ana ty,” room. Erik scrambles to and winks. She covers take everyone’s order, but her smile with a hand “Of Copenhagen?” gives up and settles on linked in rings. “Of Copenhagen. I’m four pizzas for the twenty studying astrophysics.” four of them, and takes to Something still pulls at Bjørn furrows his brow the line. He orders, waits, the hems of Erik’s heart bumping into a boy in his and he chooses to ignore like he’s never heard of clumsy attempt to move it; he notices the cigarette the subject before and behind Bjørn’s ear. Erik’s smiling hopelessly aside for someone. “Sorry,” he stammers; he “Erik,” he says. Bjørn because of it. doesn’t take notice of the looks back over. “Huh?” “Astro-what?” boy until he turns. “You “Erik, my name’s Erik. Erik grins and straightknow all of them?” the ens his spine, smiling in Erik Ritter,” boy asks, and it takes a upfront confidence and “Damn. I feel obligated minute for the words to Bjørn just chuckles toto tell tell you my last register in Erik’s brain. wards his feet, blonde name,” “Yeah - yeah, we all play hair slipping against his handball together,” “How many Asbjørns undercut before he checks his watch. Erik “Looks like a lot of fun, are there around here?” notices strikes of paint I’m not gonna lie. I’m “Good point. But my against bony fingers. Asbjørn, by the way.” last name’s Holst, so I’m 15 really Asbjørn Holst,” he
“Astrophysics.” He clari- pushing his Oxford glassfies. es up his nose before “So you want to be an pulling his own phone out of his back pocket to exastronaut?” tend it. Bjørn takes it, “Maybe. Something types in his number in a like that.” few short bursts, and Before Bjørn can speak gives it back before takagain - Erik can see it in ing his pizza and making the way his mouth opens his way out the door with and something stirs in his a grin. eyes - his order’s called. Erik waves goodbye, He frowns, and Erik can and Bjørn doesn’t see it. only smile. “Gimme your Which Erik thinks is fine number. I’ll give you a until he looks back to Ana ring later.” He offers, and feels something slow
and spiked run across his gut and there are just about a million things wrong with how he’s feeling right now. He doesn’t find the shame in finding someone else attractive - it’s the impulse he wanted to act on. He swallows and balls his fists in his pockets, tension lines drawn across his jacket where he pulls down on it with the weights of his hands.
The pizza boxes are warm when he takes them and draws them out across the table, where they’re greeted with cheers and a rush to hand absolutely everyone a paper plate. Erik cushions himself next to his girlfriend, kisses her, and tries to forget supernovas and stars in the irises of Bjørn’s eyes as they let hot pizza burn their tongues and give another color palette to the night.
“Supernova,” an illustration by Calliope
16