Red String
by Hiley Davis, Class of 2024
When I was five, I found
a red string tied around
my pinky.
It looked like a bow
and it flowed from my finger
before stopping
and dangling
into nothingness.
And as I made my way
through my early years,
everyone found someone to tie
their strings together with.
Everyone except me.
But then I was ten
and I found a boy in my class
who didn’t have someone
he was tied together with.
He was there, and then he was gone
and I had three strings coming from
my pinky.
But my red string was still untied.
He came back one day
and it was like he never went away.
We laughed
and we cried
and we fought
and we lied.
We were together for years,
friends through all the obstacles
life threw at us.
I used his shoulder to cry
and his smile to spark joy.
But perhaps I cried too much.
Perhaps I was not enough
for him.
Perhaps the string that held us together…
perhaps it started to stretch too far.
It felt as if I barely realized our
strings had come
together
when he began cutting them apart.
I cried but
he would not listen.
He chopped at our string,
tufts of red
falling to the ground.
And he turned away
with a smile
saying
“We can still be friends
just not as close.”
But how can we still be friends
if you won’t even
look at me?
I have other strings, too,
and I’ve grown closer to them
and I am happy.
But my red string on my pinky,
frayed and worn and faded,
still remains untied
in case he ever decides to
come back.
Beast
by Nikkola Brown, Class of 2024
Oh come, oh you dastardly creature,
veins bulging black with bastard blood.
Come, oh come, and approach my frail dove,
wings clipping with each single step.
Oh dare, oh you grizzled darkness,
your foot causing cracks in the concrete.
Dare, oh dare, and claim my soul,
break my bones and stain my white dress.
Oh steal, oh you evil beast,
your hand grasping with muscles clenching.
Steal, oh steal, and break my faith,
impale my innocence on the wings of Fate.
Breathing
by Alyson Gammons, Class of 2024
Branches on a tree are burdened,
Raindrops sag the bough,
Evermore do the trees grow.
Always cultivating the neighboring
Timber to thrive and the sapling to derive.
How precious art the life you give.
Imagine the forest without you,
No more can that thought linger.
Grounded are your roots to give life.