By Alana Becker, '22.
Gazing at me with an empty stare
she calls out my feelings
like no one has. The one who
lost her breath
spitting meaningless words
to a grown woman with a half-listening ear.
I climb down the stairs to the main room
where I meet her eye to eye, only
this time she walks
through my spinning head.
This time she is not there.
Anonymous / 12 That last day I walked those halls, I memorized, in my head, every sight and smell -- Stored it like a sacred star. And saw those vested men from afar As they began to crush and fell Th
Hannah Myers / 10 (BARE staff) I walk into the Ohio feather-leafed forest, my feet crackling with each step, the dead bodies of old green lying on top of moist-gut soil ready to be decomposed into dir
Jack Son / 12 The shape of water geometric automation of fluid vested upon all but itself unveils workings of gaia beneath and reflects essence unseen Geometric fabric of tao threads fates of predeter