On the Sunday morning that the two of us spent lying on my dorm room bed, the harsh sound of rain was constant and pierced the noises being made in the common hall. I had my computer resting on my lap while my fingers leisurely circled the keyboard, still taking breaks to watch you sleep. My favorite mug filled with caramel espresso sat at my bedside, waiting to be picked up. The drowsy weather made the room a shade of grey, yet some light peeked through to shine on him, maki

I don’t want you—that beautifully framed body and tender soul—to go before I. See, the day you die my dear I will too. I know you’d want me to sing the Song of Life but I can’t, I won’t. Our service will be shared so our lives can be cherished and wept for at once. We will also share a coffin, so when our bodies decay to bone, our femurs and fibulas will cuddle until the end of time. JAKE GREENBERG he, him, his College of Arts & Sciences Class of 2022, Psychology Women, Gende

Nights like these when I feel the walls turning yellow and the stainless crystal glass bell jar surrounding me, I think of u I think of u inside out ur skin ur kiss I ache And look at the pictures, two girls in a frame some of me some of u most of us in soft embrace Blank face and awake When my hands take ahold of my heart’s intention and I reach for my phone My stomach can't bear it so I wait then I call and I forget to speak But u knew it was me U can taste my tears thru th

I can’t see her anymore, I can’t look at her pictures because she’s happy without me. She’s in a relationship with someone else better. I want to say her name. I want to taste her name on my tongue in between my lips again. I want to talk about her all day. But I know I can’t, if I do I’ll lose myself even more. In my moments of silence I am wrestling with this thing in my throat that wants me say her name over and over again. I am trying to have the slightest control over it

Again, my bed is a pond because I called again, and she did not respond. Now, tonight my bed is a river for I asked and she delivered images I could never find upon search; you are finally mine. MYKA GREENE College of Arts & Sciences Class of 2022, English, Creative Writing concentration Drama minor Myka Greene is a writer, poet, and filmmaker who was born and raised in Richmond, Va.. In 2019, she began writing her first book, entitled Sanity Slip Songs, a collection of perso

regret slides through my window at night i watch the shapes form in my bedroom i’ve become his favorite visitor in the dark he whispers, “silly girl, why didn’t you kiss her?” MYKA GREENE she, her, hers College of Arts & Sciences Class of 2022, English, Creative Writing concentration Drama minor Myka Greene is a writer, poet, and filmmaker who was born and raised in Richmond, Va.. In 2019, she began writing her first book, entitled Sanity Slip Songs, a collection of perso

let me be your wallpaper the image you see when you wake the break of light in your darkness the picture you wish to see every single time you look at your screen. me. i could be your wallpaper the poster child of a barricade, the thing you punish to confinement in your grip. i can be the outline of that figure, the ghost of what was once there. i could be the wallpaper on your walls, i could be the thing you rip into pieces after you’re tired of seeing it. you want

You stand in front of your closet, frantically tearing articles of clothing from their hangers and laying them on your bed, your heart churning. Ba-bum ba-bum ba-bum. A regular two-beat rhythm pulses quickly yet softly in your chest, so paradoxical that you think it might give out. You gingerly lay a burgundy button-up streaked with heathers atop a pair of khaki jeans. You look up across the room, searching for approval. Cooper walks over and pores over the selection. “You ca

It is hot. The sun is bearing down on you—a simmering eighty degrees, unusual for September in upstate New York—and it feels like a physical weight across your shoulders. The cicadas scream and you usually hate the noise, but you can hardly pay attention to it. You are too focused on Holly. Your class has received the rare privilege of playing on the playground meant for the Older Kids today, and she is standing above you on the steps to the swirly s

Medium: Digital Art Size: 595 x 842 pixels (A4 dimensions) This piece was inspired by Mitski's song, “My Body's Made Of Crushed Little Stars,” presenting an alternative explanation to Zoe's nonbinary gender as something nebulous, unexplainable, and joyful. ZOE PHAM they, them, theirs College of Arts & Sciences Class of 2022, Computer Science Zoe is a huge nerd and is influenced by punk rock, comics, and cartoons, and love science fiction and fantasy. They create digital art a