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Lindsey, cloak by Cody Min | University of Pennsylvania, PA

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Untitled III by Anya Katz | Oberlin College, OH

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Searching by Erica Ursin-Smith | Boston College, MA

Searching

Some people say:

Dare to be different

But we’re all the same.

Intricate minds and delicate hearts,

Deep down we’re

strong willed

yet

carefree -

Wind blowing the blonde streaks 

of a brunette

Gold flashes before his eyes,

like the rays of reliable sun.

But then, it’s gone.

They say:

One day you’ll meet your soul mate.

perhaps your other half,

which is to say

until that moment,

you’ve never been whole.

This “person”, your reflection

in one of life’s

ambiguous mirrors,

has been chasing you

for years.

But then you wonder,

is it you who has been running?

Or do you follow?

Perhaps, it is both.

For in the end, 

you have found you.

Now whole, 

souls mated as souls should

You realize: difference is

impossible.

Why dare to be different

while the earth rotates

circular motions

bringing you back,

back home

to you.

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Untitled by Danielle Dinstman | Interlochen Arts Academy, MI

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"Plate 1" by Maria Gonzalez | Harvard-Westlake School, CA

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Combust by Daniela Grande | Harvard-Westlake School, CA

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"I don't even really take notes anymore" by Miranda Van Iderstine | Harvard-Westlake School, CA

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Untitled by Nick Perr | Crossroads School, CA

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California by Rhett Gentile | Harvard-Westlake School, CA

Moonlight bouncing off an empty street

Reflecting the drippings of that bruised sky

God has been playing rough with the heavens.

Storm breaks; inconsistent, like everything

In California; the

Hills, the forests, the highways

Faces, not immune to those questing hands of change.

Your house, your car, your city, your nose

Couldn’t it be prettier? Wouldn’t

A dollop here, a tuck there

Fill that hole left by the liposuction ‘cause

You were trying to fill that hole with Twinkies and espressos?

But now, you know, you get it

Walking down that long dark street

Smacking raindrops out of the air like flies

You understand

The holes just get deeper

The change can’t sit still, can it, no

Jittering, has to move

Up, move out, move around

Who were you, to ask for

Some steadiness, some stability

Holding her down, crushing her wings?

She knew the California way. She

Kept moving, kept changing

Relationships are suggestions

Guidelines, not really concrete

Have to keep it fresh, can’t stop

Every day the same, and her mother’s face

Gets a little closer in the mirror

And eventually that botox cage will break

And it will fly out and attach itself with Velcro wrinkles

Over her $8000 nose and $3000 eyes

But not now, oh god please, not ever

Keep that away, until Ladies Nite finishes her

Off the side of the PCH, wheels still spinning

Moving, changing, till the end. 

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Young Love by Elise Guarna | The Berkeley Carroll School, NY

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8:30 PM

Carla waits on the edge of the tub as the water runs.  Dave isn’t home yet.  Dave hasn’t been home before nine o’clock for the past three months.  A lot of work, Carla, I have a lot of work.  Carla believes him and believes he’s working- for now.  Their five-year anniversary is in two weeks.  There’s no mark on the calendar for dinner reservations or show tickets like there has been for the past four years.  Carla can’t tell if Dave really did forget, or if he is trying to trick her into anxiety for amusement.  That was one of the things she liked about him when she first met Dave, his wicked sense of humor.

The water fills exactly ¾ of the tub just the way Carla likes and she turns the knob off.  Before she can get in, the phone rings.

“Hello?” She answers.

“Carla, it’s me,” the voice sighs.

Dave won’t be home till midnight.  A lot of work, Carla, I have a lot of work.  Carla laughs.  Dave tells her not wait up, not to make food for him, and not to leave the light on.  He can find his way in the dark.  Dave is sorry.  A lot of work, Carla, I have a lot of work.  Carla says it’s okay, she understands.  Carla is a very understanding person.

She returns to the tub and sinks slowly into the water.  It’s almost hot enough to burn her bare skin.  It’s electric, but she likes it.  Carla sits in the bath as the water slowly loses heat and her skin slowly prunes until she is left shivering, wondering why she has stayed in it for so long.

  "8:30 PM" by Louly Maya | Harvard-Westlake School, CA

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Untitled by Jessica Lalonde | Interlochen Arts Academy, MI

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Artist of the Week 1: John Bergin | Massachusetts

7

we freeze together two ice sculptures

solid ice except for our breath hot as a volcano

you are a volcano inside of me I want to

pour baking soda into you and feel you erupt feel you succeed

feel your success

by John Bergin | Westford Academy, MA

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Artist of the Week 1: John Bergin | Massachusetts

6

This train ride is a short one

I am on a train that lasts forever with her

There are beds that we sleep on

and breakfast for dinner

There’s no reason to tweet her because we’re always in the same train

no service here anyways

by John Bergin | Westford Academy, MA

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"Virus" Danielle Dinstman, Interlochen Arts Academy, MI

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Artist of the Week 1: John Bergin | Massachusetts

5

your hands are softer than newly printed paper

I want your hands in my hands

and my hands in your hair brushing your hair

with my fingers

you have such clean fingers

by John Bergin | Westford Academy, MA

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"Broken" by Danielle Dinstman | Interlochen Arts Academy, MI