Contained —Grace Mykityshyn ’22 no wall can trap me in the way those brisk voices echo for every time I hear them they are the sound of what I’m doing wrong. the criticism pushes me into oblivion I am only free when I’m alone. I grasp onto what always felt out of reach a place that still feels light as if that breath could be my last. exhale into the cloth covering my mouth I can still look into those lazy eyes though I can’t see all of the people who aren’t smiling back. we may all be in the same space again but we’re not any closer than before.
Issue 37 | 27
