Questioning

Writing

Rain of Mortality

By Zoë Christianson

 I killed a tree writing notes last night,
 but the question ravaging my mind
 does not relate to the fine points of progressivism.
 Even I, as little as I live, am too distracted to get this right.
 I take a seat on the steps of my porch


Darkness Inside

By Lauren McGrath

This darkness inside my heart
Residing in my pitiless mind
A fuel to a fire of ever-burning odium

That cutting sarcasm of such cruelty
The cold cynical aura that never abates
What is it that filled me with such hate?