2018 Literary Magazine

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celestial -decribing the universe beyond the earth's atmosphere -relating to the spiritual or invisible heaven -supremely good -another way of saying this publication is out of this world-


-table of

#4 Sean Fogarty and De’Ja Mathews #5 De’Ja Mathews #6 Alexandra Weisshaar #7 Karen Larionova #8 Lauren Madison #9 Alexis Hedberg #10 Sean Fogarty #11 Bella Beck #12 Noah Pettit #13 Kristina Cooke

#14 Zuzana Kuzelkova and Mackenzie Basch #15 Sophia Sailer #16 Eliza Nebeker and Elizabeth Buse #17 Dominic Kirkpatrick #18 JZKC #19 JZKC 2


contents-

Alexandra Weisshaar and Anisha Joshi #20 Anisha Joshi #21 Anisha Joshi #22 Anisha Joshi #23 Eliza Nebeker #24 Ashley Perttula #25

Dominic Kirkpatrick and Amirah Razman #26 Vinuthna Akurati #27 Allison Fenske #28 Robbie Breese and Jenna Dykes #29 Kristina Cooke and Eliza Nebeker #30 Eliza Nebeker #31 Nadia Al-Yasin #32 Nadia Al-Yasin #33 Bella Beck #34 Emma Swanson #35 3


-Sean Fogarty

Transcendence -De'Ja MathewsThe only space I can find you is in my head At night My eyes closed Dreaming but wide awake Staring into the constellations Of our demise Stars outline moments That I fantasize Of our end Comets dance across the sky Like musicians playing ubiquitously as one They march songs of the Big Bang 4

Stellar moments of late night loving And laughter illuminating the dark Transformed Into subpar dreams No, nightmares Nightmares that haunt me Squeeze my eyes tighter Try and ignore the sound Of your voice ringing through my galaxy Maybe if I lay here long enough Our memory will melt into the atmosphere Surely then we’ll suffocate


Dear Love -De'Ja Mathews-

I don’t love you anymore. You see, you told me not to get attached and, for awhile, I was tangled in you.

When I first heard you, I let you play my heart like a harp and darling you sounded like an orchestra all your own. My wrists got caught in the strings. But my eyes fixated on impossible eventualities, I forgot we pledged no strings attached. Every word off your tongue a new melody, each one wrapping itself around my throat until it wound so tight. I was stuck on repeat. The composition of the same 5 words played, “Love isn’t in my vocabulary. Love isn’t in my vocabulary. Love isn’t in my vocabulary. Love isn’t in my vocabulary. My love isn’t for you.” It wasn’t my favorite line, but it was yours so I let it play hoping that soon enough you’d change the song.

For a while you loved that I was a well paying audience. You liked the rhythm in my hips and philharmonic in my eyes. You let me take your attention. I got your song stuck in my head. Little did I know, I wasn’t the only girl you played. Your bridge came but the rhythm was off beat. We can’t be. We can’t be. We can’t be booming in the back of your throat, drowning out our duet. I tried to ignore the sound. Play your melody a little louder in the car. Sing your favorite lines with more soul. But I couldn’t. I could no longer listen to your monotonic notes when I realized I deserved a whole goddamn mixtape. I finally had the courage to skip the song. End the love affair of overplaying your rhyme. Your melodic sound no longer stuck in my head. No longer could I bare your fingers getting caught on my strings. So I got some scissors and cut my heart strings because if it wasn’t your hands playing me, it would someone elses and who needs a beating heart if it’s got no perfect melody?

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-Alexandra Weisshaar 6


HER MAGIC TRANCE

-Karen Larionova-

I cry out from my ship, While I’m cast out into sea. The captain loses grip, Because a siren screams for me. The captain and the crew, They all tumble off the boat. The siren takes me too, But I cannot seem to float.

I’m taken by her magic trance, Her touch blows winds and waves. My men and I don’t stand a chance, Our future is our graves.

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-Lauren Madison

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CHOOSE I put up with you for 15 years But looking back I should have left 5 years ago Let me walk you out the door i don't wanna see you anymore I'm so done standing by your side, i wish i could tell you why You might have loved me I know I loved you But i can't deal with it anymore I wish I was your #1 But you chose him So I give up, im done

THE BIG BAD Everyone thinks I had a great life As I sit here in silence Screaming for help as she braids my hair I try to find help, i found my best friend Only to find that she has stabbed me in the back I felt so betrayed I felt so angry I wanted to scream But instead I sit here in silence Letting the big bad get to me

-Alexis Hedberg9


-Sean Fogarty 10


-Bella Beck

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She is plagued by her thoughts, drowning in turmoil And anchored by her mind, irremovable weights. Flowers grow from her tears when they fall to the soil, Released only after she opens the gates.

-Noah Pettit-

The currents flow beside her, as she stands still Before she falls to her knees, overcome with grief. She wants to rise once more, but the tides take her will And she is lost to an unforgiving sea. The once green grasses upon which her mind grazed Have withered to ashes of which she cannot rid. Nothing to sustain her sanity has she raised, No hope to live with and nothing worth her bid. Unleashing her self unto self is her vice, Bringing harm to her body and harm to her mind. The storm continues to brew as lightning strikes twice, And leaves her alone with her own heart to find. Cradled in covers absent of comforting Words and soothing phrases to maintain harmony. Pillows to cloud and muffle thoughts that hurt her, she Struggles to find unwritten testimony. The water she treads on threatens to swallow Her hope and her future and all her desire. Dreams of finding them once more are soon to follow, After which they fall to the flames of the fire. A brutal blaze that feeds on the ashes of Hopes that she once held, now nothing more than embers. Her walls are caving, tears craving heat from above, Opposites meeting like sun in December. The stars in the night, they reflect in her eyes, And slide with the sorrows so smoothly down her cheek. She gathers them gently and looks up to the skies, Constellations to tell of times not so bleak.

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-Kristina Cooke

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i, too, sing america. I am not here for very long time, I am not aware of the value of dime. Still remember my native language, But trying to practice fluent English. But I try, And I always will, Because I am living my middle school dream. If there was a way to stay a little longer Because once we leave Again we never meet. And I know, The bittersweet feeling Of being temporary there where you belong. I never more know where my home is, it is everywhere and it is nowhere. I am victim of my own success, But I believe, That we all may meet again. I, too, am America.

-Zuzana Kuzelkova-Mackenzie Bosch 14


-Sophia Sailor-

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Realism is the beat that I jive to I can’t walk with imagination I don’t skip with joy The spring in my step is a harsh click I don’t believe in the power of hope I stomp with pragmatism Existentialism is my bygone dance step I march to the beat of my own drum Don’t be surprised if I crush dreams when I take a stroll The glass isn’t half full if my foot falls knock it over But sometimes, the beat is a little too loud for my own fragile ears

Self talk

-Elizabeth Buse16

-Eliza Nebeker-

Realism is the beat that I jive to

Talk to yourself in a way that you’ll listen You deserve to be drowned in words of affirmation Remember that it doesn’t always have to be external But to feel positive causation You are suffocating yourself in self hate So much that you refuse to accept the love others try to give Engulf those thoughts with acceptance Choose to be better for yourself, so that you create a life worthy to live


-Dominic Kirkpatrick 17


-JZKC-

STAR

Once upon a time, a little boy looked up at the sky, marveling at its stars. His name was Joey, and he loved to stargaze. Living on the moon gave him an amazing view. In his lap, he had a jar of blueberries- his favorite fruit. He stuck his thumbs into the berries, and popped them into his mouth. This was an unusual way to eat berries, he knew, but he liked to try new things. It was very messy, so he decided to eat them the usual way- with a fork. Soon, his jar was out of berries, and he lied on his back, jar on his chest. He had no people to talk to, all alone on the moon. But, he still had his things. He had his blueberry bush, his flower garden, his jar, his fork, and his clothes. Every day, he’d tend to his violets, roses, and lavenders, and tell stories to entertain them. He would imagine that they were laughing. Then, He’d water his bush and kiss it for good luck. Sometimes, Joey would dance for the stars, and the stars would wink their approval. He usually wore blue, warm pajamas, and kept his red pajamas in the garden. They were the only clothes he had, but he didn’t mind. They kept him warm and cozy on the cold moon, and that’s all he needed. He wore blue for his regular activities, and saved red for adventures. Joey had never gone on an adventure, but he liked to think that one was on its way. Even though Joey had everything he needed, he still envied the stars. They were just like each other. They chased each other around the sky, and would communicate through winks. They shared secrets, confessions, and thoughts the boy would never understand. Sometimes, they’d wink at him too. It was a kind gesture, but he never knew what they were trying to say. Tonight, Joey felt exceptionally jealous. While the berries where delicious, and the flowers’ scents were at the height of their seasons, they weren’t enough anymore. He looked through the jar at the stars, and turned his head to make the stars bend and stretch. If he shook his head quickly enough, they looked like they were dancing. Suddenly, Joey got an idea.

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B Y He didn’t even take the time to put on his red pajamas before standing up and raising his arms to the sky. He reached as far as he could, but it wasn’t enough. He was too short. He suddenly remembered his fork, and pointed it at the closest star. It pierced the star, sticking it to the fork. It worked! He continued to pick every star from the sky and gently set them into his jar. They were his friends, and he didn’t want to hurt them. He didn’t notice the white liquid that began to drip from their new holes, or the way that they trembled in the jar. Finally, the child plucked the last star, put it into his jar, and began to twist on the top. The inside of the jar was a confusing place. The stars were used to having an infinite amount of space in all directions, but there, space was limited. They were used to seeing for light years in all directions, but here- the top blocked their view, and the glass disoriented everything outside of it. The night sky, the moon, and the boy all bent and swirled, it made one star a little sick. They were also used to no scent at all, but here, it smelled strongly of berry juice, which did not help the sick star get accustomed to his new home. The stars huddled together, a single frozen, trembling mass. They stared at each other, and at the smooth glass prison that confined them. What has this cruel child done to them? Joey beamed. Now, his new friends were close enough to teach him how to wink, and he could learn all about them. He was no longer alone! Before, the stars were mere acquaintances with whom, he shared the sky. Now, they would become best friends. They would learn each other’s deepest wishes and desires, and they would dance together, and they would light up each others days. The lid stopped turning as the jar was sealed. The stars realized that it was time to take action. At once, all the stars in the sky rammed against the lid.

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-Alexandra Weisshaar

Spring Terms

-Anisha Joshi-

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In a small coffee shop, off of Fifth Street and Maple Avenue, students huddled up in the corners studying while young couples were on coffee dates and college students came in to have their afternoon caffeine fix. Tobias sat, all six foot three of himself, at one of the tables by the windows


overlooking the garden. A slender hand set down a lidded drink in front of him. “Black coffee with two sugars and a pump of chocolate, right?” Tobias looked at the pale brunette with a sad familiarity. “You still remember?” he asked softly. It had been a long time since the two had spoken face to face. “Hard to forget,” she smirked. “You had a tendency to throw a fit whenever there was no chocolate in the house.” “You were just as bad whenever we ran out of Hot Cheetos, Eleanor,” Tobias shot back. Eleanor grinned roguishly. Tobias’s heart ached ever so slightly. “Yeah,” she shook her head, “Remember that time we ran out of food and went out on a midnight munchies run?” “The one where we ended up raiding a frat party or the time we accidently ended up in a strip club?” “What’s the difference?” Eleanor snickered. Tobias joined her as their snickers evolved into chuckles to quiet laughter. “Remember when Felix got so drunk that he ended up serenading Alix with a strip show at the bar?” “How could I forget?” Eleanor threw her head back, wheezing through her laughs. “I mean, we were out on a date and ended up seeing Felix looking drunk and lovesick. Next thing we know he’s stripping and singing to Alix to forgive him!” She shook her head, “The funniest part was that Alix wasn’t even mad at him to begin with!” Tobias joined her breathless laughter. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so carefree. His cheeks ached from all of his smiles, his gut cramped from the sharp bursts of laughter. “Felix was always so goofy,” Tobias breathed out, smile still on his face. “That’s what Alix loves about him,” Eleanor rebutted before adding, “I mean they’ve lasted this long, haven’t they?” “Yeah, didn’t Felix propose over the summer?” asked Tobias. The mood between them dampened slightly. “Alix was so happy when he did,” Eleanor replied, melancholy in her voice, “They plan to have their wedding in the spring.” “Have they set a date set yet?” “They’re thinking of having it in another month or so. Just a small wedding with some of family and friends. They just sent out the invitations last week.” “I see.” The two sat quietly, the laughter from a moment ago reduced to no more than a shadow. Eleanor fiddled with the band on her finger, a flash of gold catching Tobias’s eye. 21


Spring Terms Continued . . . “I heard you got engaged.” His smile had a touch of sadness in it. “Yeah,” Eleanor brighten, her smile was soft with love and memories. “Otto proposed on our anniversary.” “Congratulations,” Tobias’s words were genuine and gentle, “When is the wedding?” “We’re thinking of having a spring wedding next year.” “What’s with all the spring weddings?” Tobias joked lightly. Eleanor giggled. “Spring is special for Otto and me,” she explained, “Just like fall was for us.” The tension in the air thickened slightly. They sat in silence, the sipping of coffee and soft jazz filling the air between them. “Are you happy?” His whisper was almost lost in the shop’s bustle, but Eleanor still heard it. She smiled, brighter than any of the other smiles she showed him. It was the same look Tobias remembered seeing on his parents’ face, the same face his brother had whenever he looked at his wife, a face so full of love and joy that it made Eleanor look younger than ever. Tobias hadn’t ever seen her look like that when they were dating. “He makes me smile. It feels like with him, I can brave the world,” Eleanor spoke. Her tone spoke like as if she was praying, like her love was her God, the tether in her life. Tobias was quiet, a bittersweet feeling rose up in his chest, making its home in his chest with the memories he shared with the girl he used to love. He looked at Eleanor. “I’m glad,” he smiled, “Happiness suits you.” She smiled back. “What about you?” she asked, “Anyone caught your fancy?” “Yeah,” he hesitated, “I have Max. We’ve been dating for a few months” “Ooh, Max hmm?” she teased, “What’s she like?” Tobias hesitated. “More like he,” he corrected gently. He took a sip of his drink, watching as the surprise flashed across her face. “Oh,” she said dopily. She hesitated before asking, “Does this mean you’re–?” “I’m not really sure,” he cut her off, “but Max . . . Max feels like home. Like the world could end and we’d still be in our pajamas, drinking hot chocolate like any other night.” Eleanor sat there, absorbing the new information. “Are you happy?” she asked this more clearly than Tobias had asked her,

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but it was still fairly quiet. Tobias was silent. “I think so. It’s not the same as when you and I dated. When we were together, it was like fireworks and storms, full of life and passion and intensity. That is, until it died down leaving ashes and water and tears behind. With Max, it’s like honey and hugs, blankets and rainy days with books with stories that make you feel. There’s still passion, but there’s more of the love that’s about hugs and cuddles and waking up together than it is about sex and cigarettes and 3 am adventures,” Tobias went on tentatively. “It’s different, but I don’t think it’s bad.” Eleanor just stared at him. “Well, you sound as dramatic as always,” she jabbed lightly. A laugh bubbled to the surface. At Tobias’s resigned expression, she became more serious, “I think that you sound happy. What you have with Max is different than what we had, and I think that’s a good thing. We were young fools in love, living on the edge with fire and rebellion in our hearts. But we’ve grown up since then, Tobias. We’re not a pair of invincible 20-somethings anymore,” Eleanor took a sip of her cooling beverage, “You don’t want to say that you’re happy with Max because you’re scared. Scared that you’re mistaken, scared that what you’re feeling isn’t love, but Tobias,” Eleanor’s warm brown eyes meet Tobias’s sad blue ones, “it sounds to me like you’re happy with Max. You sound like you are completely and utterly in love with him,” she smiled, sadly, encouragingly. “Don’t be so afraid to be happy.” Eleanor got up and gathered her stuff. As she turned to leave, she looked at Tobias. “You know something else? Happiness suits you too. It suits you really well. See you around, Tobias.” Tobias stayed where he was with a cup of half-cold coffee, feeling as if a great burden had been lifted from his shoulders. “Good bye, Eleanor,” he called to her as she left the shop. He didn’t know whether she heard him or not, but he knew she understood. Tobias looked out the window. The sun was setting, painting the sky with the colors of fire. He watched as Eleanor’s small silver car pulled out of the parking lot and left, splashing through the puddles of melted snow. He glanced at where the coffee shop’s garden was supposed to be. Between the dirt and the snow, a little green shoot peaked though.

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A Reflection -Eliza Nebeker-

Caught between two mirrors, blood red glass and blue darker than the hours before dawn. Shimmer and shine oh mirror of mine Show me what’s divine My face caught in both yet neither glass A reflection powered by a distant ball of gas The red of the glass pushes me forward But the blue holds me back Holds me down like the arms of a lover Heavier than any other Red for the blood boiling in my veins For the heat of hell in my mind and the running trains of fear Shimmer and shine oh mirror of mine Show me what’s divine Clarify this human mind Wipe away the dust that all may see the light Green as springtime and amorphous color of water

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-Ashley Perttula 25


you are in an amusement park you are on a rollercoaster a rollercoaster that has many ups and many downs that has twists and turns that feels happiness and sorrow yet you manage to express love for this rollercoaster which gives you little prizes that are free and deserving minds become filled with images of joy and scars my favorite rollercoaster is the one called life blessings were made to live to the stars feelings turn to gratitude and memories become treasures what i love to do the most despite the twists, turns, sorrow is to celebrate life to celebrate the thousands of days you've seen this planet so my advice is always remember to celebrate life

La vie est belle -Dominic Kirkpatrick 26

-Amirah Razman-


-Vinuthna Akurati 27


George

-Allison Fenske 28


-Robbie BreeseI see it poised there, across the room. Beckoning me closer with parallel strings Like train tracks, leading ever onward To brighter, bigger, better things. Gleaming pegs become six friends Some sharply make demands Others speaking somewhat flatly All waiting to take my hands. I do my best not to fret Lest it eat my time; yet Always it seems my fingers are let To dance, as my lips do rhyme. What a cruel temptress! To distract me night and day With promises of expression In a rhythmic sort of way.

-Jenna Dykes

But how can I ever ignore My favorite pastime, by far? That favored instrument o’mine My beautiful guitar.

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unlikely literature

R -Kristina Cooke-

30

oe shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and stumbled around the library. His untied shoelaces strangled his moving feet. The overhead lights flickered on and off every five seconds. Librarians and patrons shuffled in darkened book alleys. He tightened his grip on his wallet so the librarians couldn’t take overdue fines. This library didn’t carry the nice book smell, instead rotting newspaper and dust flooded Roe’s nostrils. The main thing this branch carried was trashed copies of encyclopedias that had been partially chewed on. Shuffling forward, Roe nearly face planted due to tripping on a cracked floor tile. His father had sent him out of the house before the yelling started. He checked his watch. He had wasted a half hour already but most of his parents’ fights took an hour. The only good thing about this place, was that it was always open, if you knew the back entrance. As Roe walked past each of the twenty half empty aisles in turn, something caught his eye. An emerald green leather-bound tome called from one of the shelves. He was inexorably drawn forward. Without realising what he was doing, he reached forward and stroked the cover. The cover was older than he would’ve guessed but well maintained. The copper corner clasps winked at him as he pulled the volume from the shelf. He turned the book over to search for a title or a description. The back was torn up and closely resembled the other encyclopedias.


-Eliza NebekerRoe nearly dropped the book. From the front, the whole book was in mint condition. From the back it was like everything else in the library. Roe turned over the next book on the shelf. He shook his head when it didn’t transfigure itself into something mysterious and leather bound. To avoid the suspicion of the library crones, he turned the book over to its disguise. Whipping around the corner, a prune faced library man appeared. “What you got there? Can I eat it?” the man whisper-shrieked. It was at this moment Roe realised that most of the hunched figures were not librarians, but hobos and addicts. “It’s ..uh.. Something for school. The paper’s probably poisonous or something,” he coughed out lamely. “Are you sure?” asked the prune, grabbing Roe’s faded t-shirt. “Yep. Coated in lead and dipped in rat poison,” he said, trying to duck out of the man’s iron tight grip. The man accepted this and shrunk back into the dark. Roe clutched the book tightly to his chest and ran out of the rundown library, his long legs propelling him forward into the dusk. He ran until he reached the neighborhood park. The park was almost as dilapidated as the library but with fewer shadowy figures. Roe chose a tree to sit under. In the fading sunlight he started to crack open the tome’s yellowed pages. The pages featured cramped handwriting and odd diagrams. The diagrams were sketches of plant like creatures. He tried to understand the writing but most of the text was in greek. Roe flipped another page and read the message scrawled in red pen on the page It read, “If you’re reading this, it’s too late for me. Put this book down right now and walk away and

whatever you do, don’t let any ---” The message was in feminine handwriting and it abruptly ended there with a few long gouges in the paper. “It’s probably just a joke,” Roe said firmly to himself. “A joke huh? Well kid, I’ve been waiting to get out of this book for ten years. The closest I got was a hobo trying to cook me alive,” a voice said from the direction of his lap. Roe nearly snapped his neck, jumping up from where he was sitting. “Let me out, pal? And don’t worry about that chick, she’s in here too, somewhere,” the same voice said. “How?” “Just set the book open in the grass on the plant monster pages. You might want to step back.” Roe shook himself and tried to make sense of the book’s request. But before he could think it through, the same force that made him pick up the book in the first place shoved him to put the book down. The wind ruffled the pages to the right spot. Roe stumbled back and fell on his back. He watched as green vines started to snake their way out of the center of the book. The vines rose and writhed, forming the shape of two women. With a savage snap, the vines broke apart and disintegrated. Two women stood in front of him. One, a curvy woman in her late forties wore a leopard print dress, smoke curling from the long cigatree perched in between her lips. The other looked rail-thin and barely twenty her shirt and shorts. “I tried to warn you,” the mousy young one said, her brown eyes swimming with tears. “You’re gonna regret this so much, your name might’ve been Rue,” the other woman snapped. 31


DEAR GIRL

-Nadia Al -Yasin-

Natural beauty they don’t get to tell you what to look like You do! Stay true to yourself because you are beautiful I want you to know that If nobody has told you that today or even ever I’M TELLING YOU RIGHT NOW THAT YOU ARE Stay true to yourself and don’t let people try to Push you down because you deserve better. Dear girl who every day has to deal with inner and outer demons Every single day Who uses something to mark up her body to Numb the pain and shut the demons out temporarily But it comes back and she does it over and over again Because it’s the only way she feels like she can feel alive. She feels like nobody is there for her Nobody cares, or wants her. Well I want you to know this

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Dear girl in the back of the classroom who can’t even get a word out of her mouth Cause she’s so scared that she is going to be judged Judged by the way she sounds or the way she talks She starts to believe that she is too annoying to speak her mind Well I want you to know this Your voice and your thoughts do matter Because everybody deserves a chance to speak their mind Maybe one day you can use your voice to change and inspire the world! Dear girl who feels like she has to wake up ever day At early hours of the morning so she can put makeup on and Look perfect She puts on makeup and does her right to Impress someone or their “friends” told them They look better with makeup on and it makes them look Attractive. I want you to know this, You are gorgeous whether or not you wear makeup and do your hair Or not. The only person who gets to decide if you put makeup on or do your hair Is you, not anybody else And if anybody else tells you different they aren’t good enough to see you


YOU ARE WORTH IT You deserve to be here as much as everybody else does You have so much to look forward to in life The feeling is temporary and somebody cares about you I know you may feel that the thing you use to numb the pain Is the only option but its not Somebody loves and cares about you Just remember that Dear girl who feels scared to be at school cause some jerk decided to hurt you They told you never tell or say anything because they said nobody will believe you You feel like your vulnerable and trapped like you cant do anything You start to believe that nothing really did happen even though it did I want to tell you something though, I am so sorry that you are having to go or have had to go through this But I want you to know that if anyone has ever Grabbed you, hit you, threatened you, yelled at you, manipulated or Made you question your own self to the point where you feel like you have gone crazy They did hurt you. And I am sorry for all of us girls who live in this generation Where people can’t understand the words “No Means No!” I just want you to know that if you feel like nobody

is listening to you I am and Will never doubt you What happened to you happened. I will always love you no matter what someone Else says. Dear girl who doesn’t feel like she is good enough. She feels like she had to do better in order to “fit in” Always stepping on the scale and pushing herself past her limit To make herself look pretty. You are gorgeous just the way you are No matter what shape or size you are You were gifted with the body you have so don’t ruin it. Don’t give into social media, it ruins yourself esteem you are perfect the way don’t let some dumb post determine anything else Dear any girl that is struggling I want you to remember this You are worth it You deserve everything in life You are the leaders of today, tomorrow and beyond Don’t spend your time on the last chapter Because it is in the past and the last time I checked You don’t read the end of the book and then go back to the beginning Your past does not define you so just don’t go there Use your voice Encourage empower and change the world.

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-Bella Beck 34


-Emma Swanson 35


Nick Walfrid

Bella Beck

Inika Shetty Lauren Murphy Emma Swanson

Lit Mag Team The Eden Prairie Literary Magazine is a publication featuring work of the student and staff body. We are dedicated to showcasing the creative talents, inclusive nature, and worldly expression of our entire school.

Eden Prairie High Schoool: 2017-2018


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