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               And the girls look like baby-dolls, lush and soft with dark rings around; around glittering blue eyes, blue like ice. Lush, yes, lush the lips, red and ready, bloody and warm. Cheek flush like circles of passions, with red faux hair; the girls give themselves easily over to each other.

Boys are drab and bland, rarely showy. They adorn themselves neutrally and there on the faces inhabit the most beautiful eyes, full of soul, imagine. Deep brown pool like murky in escapable water, sink to the depths.

All have skin like velvet, moistened with emotion and dance and neurons. Boys move like the dead and the girls seize wildly, a show for all, so unlike their natural counterparts, out of line and out of beat in this imprisonment of cement and sound. They dance.               
                                                                                   -Melissa Beall


Lost Within The Woods
 And there I fell…
Eyes screaming across the paper.
‘Less there be something I missed before.
And I was falling.
Before my feet ever left the floor…
I was already reaching for a wall.
Already blinded
Before I saw it all…
Before his tears ever reached my hand.
It was then I couldn’t stand.
And there was always something in the way before…
In a moment, there were people I couldn’t hear.
And there were hopes and fears I couldn’t see.
As if there wasn’t me reaching for a wall.
And as I took my fall
There was nothing left to feel
Except shock and numbness towards it all.
And I wondered if it was real,
Because there was no wall…
No man who wept…
No floor…
And nothing to feel.
I was left with myself
Sitting in bed.
Yet the notebook was all that felt real.
          - Sabryna Henze

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