Words From Molly Carlson.
- submissions listed below -
- submissions listed below -
For the Ones who Want to Know
By Molly Carlson
For the ones who want to know what its like to be me.
Its like you're emmerged in a creek of blood,
yet expected to get the stains out of your clothes after the swim.
Or like the morning after a bad trip, left with a spinning head and sore thoughts;
Questioning who i am.
Im familiar yet unsafe,
almost like learning to ride your bike with no wheels, or driving from the left lane.
Its like the hum of the ac in my basement that echoes,
but i will truly never be that noiseless to hear it over the bickering upstairs.
For the ones who want to know,
Its thinking i can be manipulated,
Take me for a fool, ill send you to therapy in 2 to 3 business days.
Its saying i love you so much, that you don't even mean it anymore.
Or being so torn between lust and hope that its simply because
Im just to indecisive.
For the ones who want to know what its like to be me
Its shouting im sorry before i've even come close to the end of a sentence.
Its telling me im wise, until you find out my age.
And saying im a liar until you hear both sides of the story.
And thinking i speak to much, but only because im trained to stay silent.
By Molly Carlson
For the ones who want to know what its like to be me.
Its like you're emmerged in a creek of blood,
yet expected to get the stains out of your clothes after the swim.
Or like the morning after a bad trip, left with a spinning head and sore thoughts;
Questioning who i am.
Im familiar yet unsafe,
almost like learning to ride your bike with no wheels, or driving from the left lane.
Its like the hum of the ac in my basement that echoes,
but i will truly never be that noiseless to hear it over the bickering upstairs.
For the ones who want to know,
Its thinking i can be manipulated,
Take me for a fool, ill send you to therapy in 2 to 3 business days.
Its saying i love you so much, that you don't even mean it anymore.
Or being so torn between lust and hope that its simply because
Im just to indecisive.
For the ones who want to know what its like to be me
Its shouting im sorry before i've even come close to the end of a sentence.
Its telling me im wise, until you find out my age.
And saying im a liar until you hear both sides of the story.
And thinking i speak to much, but only because im trained to stay silent.
To Kill or to Slow Down
By Molly Carlson
The impact of pain.
The ones who seek to sorrow.
Weapons of guns and swords, battling breath and chances.
To kill or to slow down.
My mom has cancer
And no there are no guns swept to a closet nor no sword shoved down the barrel of a rifle.
She's being killed;
and my mother is narcissistic with a victim complex.
But shes being real this time.
I swear.
Inmobility, heartbeat I can hear all the way from the kitchen, drip sweat, freeze into ice.
I have never once cried on my birthday until now.
She ask what i want, with arms as open as possibe,
pressed against the wheels to a chair.
clogged w too much soil.
she forgot I love flowers, and threw my cash.
5$ 3 ones
so
i bought cigarettes.
to kill or to slow down
By Molly Carlson
The impact of pain.
The ones who seek to sorrow.
Weapons of guns and swords, battling breath and chances.
To kill or to slow down.
My mom has cancer
And no there are no guns swept to a closet nor no sword shoved down the barrel of a rifle.
She's being killed;
and my mother is narcissistic with a victim complex.
But shes being real this time.
I swear.
Inmobility, heartbeat I can hear all the way from the kitchen, drip sweat, freeze into ice.
I have never once cried on my birthday until now.
She ask what i want, with arms as open as possibe,
pressed against the wheels to a chair.
clogged w too much soil.
she forgot I love flowers, and threw my cash.
5$ 3 ones
so
i bought cigarettes.
to kill or to slow down
Garage of the One Floor House
By Molly Carlson
Garage of a one floor house
Windows that fog when coming face to face with the silence past 11pm.
Yelling barricaded, crys kept quiet, us dying slowing,
suffocated by his breath named Jack Daniels.
In the garage of the one floor house,
Pinging and ponging used as distraction.
You can only play so many games against yourself.
Stomping off to the excess doors, just to not breathe the same air as you,
But swiftly migrating back as though you had me attached to your hip.
Like the money you held to buy the new pair of shoes,
not to wear, to sell for more money,
You were always stingy.
In the garage of a one floor house,
Im guided by voices
Whispers of “i love you” in dawn, shouting “fuck you” by dusk,
Your personality switches more than how many times I had to change outfits,
and no i wasn't just asking for it.
Only asking you why?
You dont even understand the answer yourself.
In the garage of the one floor house,
Initials carved into the foggy glass,
Dads collection of oberon bottles,
Long sofa layed upon cement.
Jumping, crying, fucking, holding, lying, shreking , sleeping, grabbing
Leather sofa holds more money in the crevises than your piggy bank.
Dig into the leather for your next purchase fund.
In the garage of the one floor house,
Barricaded. Crys kept silent.
Us dying.
By Molly Carlson
Garage of a one floor house
Windows that fog when coming face to face with the silence past 11pm.
Yelling barricaded, crys kept quiet, us dying slowing,
suffocated by his breath named Jack Daniels.
In the garage of the one floor house,
Pinging and ponging used as distraction.
You can only play so many games against yourself.
Stomping off to the excess doors, just to not breathe the same air as you,
But swiftly migrating back as though you had me attached to your hip.
Like the money you held to buy the new pair of shoes,
not to wear, to sell for more money,
You were always stingy.
In the garage of a one floor house,
Im guided by voices
Whispers of “i love you” in dawn, shouting “fuck you” by dusk,
Your personality switches more than how many times I had to change outfits,
and no i wasn't just asking for it.
Only asking you why?
You dont even understand the answer yourself.
In the garage of the one floor house,
Initials carved into the foggy glass,
Dads collection of oberon bottles,
Long sofa layed upon cement.
Jumping, crying, fucking, holding, lying, shreking , sleeping, grabbing
Leather sofa holds more money in the crevises than your piggy bank.
Dig into the leather for your next purchase fund.
In the garage of the one floor house,
Barricaded. Crys kept silent.
Us dying.
Crab Apples
By Molly Carlson
Intertwined.
Branch bark twisted. Hung low, sagged, due to ripe apples in August.
Precisely placed upon the roads curb, Next to the fire hydrant that has seen rough sex, and spotted deaths.
On Draper Blvd,
A true driveby of amusement.
Ran by those apples last time, dad tried to kick me out. Saw them on Tuesday, when no dinner was set.
So I ate them.
I don't think they agreed, seemed too sour to enjoy.
With brown simplified to cardboard,
And leaves as autumn rain drops;
Crab apples watch my growth.
A drunk entrance headed to doors, eyes blue almost black. They don't know how late I was.
Trees don't have watches.
Seen me exit on my first day and arrive on my last. They bite their nails, simplified as leaves,
As officer after officer,
begins to speak in stanzas to Mom.
Intertwined. Branches twisted. Hung low, sagged,
Now due to ripe apples in October.
By Molly Carlson
Intertwined.
Branch bark twisted. Hung low, sagged, due to ripe apples in August.
Precisely placed upon the roads curb, Next to the fire hydrant that has seen rough sex, and spotted deaths.
On Draper Blvd,
A true driveby of amusement.
Ran by those apples last time, dad tried to kick me out. Saw them on Tuesday, when no dinner was set.
So I ate them.
I don't think they agreed, seemed too sour to enjoy.
With brown simplified to cardboard,
And leaves as autumn rain drops;
Crab apples watch my growth.
A drunk entrance headed to doors, eyes blue almost black. They don't know how late I was.
Trees don't have watches.
Seen me exit on my first day and arrive on my last. They bite their nails, simplified as leaves,
As officer after officer,
begins to speak in stanzas to Mom.
Intertwined. Branches twisted. Hung low, sagged,
Now due to ripe apples in October.
Frictionless Movement
By Molly Carlson
I have hit a stage of frictionless movement.
No kick me sign taped to my back,
along with an absence of the bully.
Living has never felt so normal;
so unplanned.
I have entered a phase of an open heart.
Feeling nostalgic to my past,
and avaliable for my future.
My mind has calmed from the destructive era,
and ready to redeem satisfaction
in this stage of frictionless movement.
By Molly Carlson
I have hit a stage of frictionless movement.
No kick me sign taped to my back,
along with an absence of the bully.
Living has never felt so normal;
so unplanned.
I have entered a phase of an open heart.
Feeling nostalgic to my past,
and avaliable for my future.
My mind has calmed from the destructive era,
and ready to redeem satisfaction
in this stage of frictionless movement.
Purple Elegance
by Molly Carlson
photo: @shansingz
There was a moment in time where you reminded me of a lavender field.
A beautiful, detailed landscape of everything I could ever want,
and held the smells of heaven.
A field that bloomed in May, peaked within summer,
and died upon the approach of the fall.
The excitement of adventuring became still, peacefulness turned to aggression, and love became less than dust.
A war of self-destruction turned the tables to excuses.
Your defences became stubborn, and blocked me out from your powers of reasoning.
Get your dose of oxytocin and take that as a hint to show emotion… to show any sensation.
I grasped your hand to try to pull you back to the cloying meadow of detail, but you changed your route on your own. Barricaded between two worlds of my existence,
yet I still held on tight to each side, as every part of my body stretched and shattered to pieces.
by Molly Carlson
photo: @shansingz
There was a moment in time where you reminded me of a lavender field.
A beautiful, detailed landscape of everything I could ever want,
and held the smells of heaven.
A field that bloomed in May, peaked within summer,
and died upon the approach of the fall.
The excitement of adventuring became still, peacefulness turned to aggression, and love became less than dust.
A war of self-destruction turned the tables to excuses.
Your defences became stubborn, and blocked me out from your powers of reasoning.
Get your dose of oxytocin and take that as a hint to show emotion… to show any sensation.
I grasped your hand to try to pull you back to the cloying meadow of detail, but you changed your route on your own. Barricaded between two worlds of my existence,
yet I still held on tight to each side, as every part of my body stretched and shattered to pieces.
What gives you power?
by Molly Carlson
TW // sexual assult
What gives you the power to hide behind your lies.
To sacrifise the mental capacity of others.
Do you know you hurt?
I look at you and I see pain.
Your hands touch, yet leave marks upon people
I have your marks.
I try to scrub, but they are stuck upon my skin, like black ink.
I´ve tried to release your name, but they don´t believe.
Sadly, your just known for holding a football, around the guys
but trust me you´re known as monster in disguise to the girls.
What gives you the power?
Is guilt a word to you?
by Molly Carlson
TW // sexual assult
What gives you the power to hide behind your lies.
To sacrifise the mental capacity of others.
Do you know you hurt?
I look at you and I see pain.
Your hands touch, yet leave marks upon people
I have your marks.
I try to scrub, but they are stuck upon my skin, like black ink.
I´ve tried to release your name, but they don´t believe.
Sadly, your just known for holding a football, around the guys
but trust me you´re known as monster in disguise to the girls.
What gives you the power?
Is guilt a word to you?
@art.skyyy |
Would have been easier
By Molly Carlson "The man that I love hates me." It would’ve been easier if you didn't scream. Why did you stay? The ever slow turning idea of letting myself go back and I stopped it, What would change? Am i dealing with it all wrong? Driving down the road by the church and it becoming a segment from the past. A different memory. "Not reality. No longer sweet". Sweet the way Sunday's ice cream taste in my mouth. Sweet like when I was young driving down those same roads, before we met. Before I had lost and you had won. The challenge left will be to shut the door on the past and step ahead blindly. "No destination intact only the directions are in the compass - To move forward." I drove back-and-forth on the road of Normandy Avenue. "And the beauty of its name reminded me that I am beautiful." Cherishable for no reason at all. Not everyone needs to pretend to be in love with their girlfriend, just because they are afraid of a change in season. There is nothing to hash upon. No words to say. Except that I was brave, and it would’ve been so much easier if I didn’t stay. |
Monsters ARE real.
By Molly Carlson
Last year I wrote my first letter, the beginning of my poetry.
I’ll let you know I was figuring out the true nature of my heart.
"I now know love can be evil. I was convinced that darkness is real, and that the devil is a real devil. That monsters don’t always know they are monsters."
He said he doesn't know who I am anymore
Well..
I love flowers. I buy roses every time someone leaves me.
My mother gives me cash.
I enjoy the smell of fresh cut grass,
on an April morning,
along with the laughter of the blue jays.
I favor the words you once spoke,
yet now locked in an inventory of fears with my greatest monsters.
By Molly Carlson
Last year I wrote my first letter, the beginning of my poetry.
I’ll let you know I was figuring out the true nature of my heart.
"I now know love can be evil. I was convinced that darkness is real, and that the devil is a real devil. That monsters don’t always know they are monsters."
He said he doesn't know who I am anymore
Well..
I love flowers. I buy roses every time someone leaves me.
My mother gives me cash.
I enjoy the smell of fresh cut grass,
on an April morning,
along with the laughter of the blue jays.
I favor the words you once spoke,
yet now locked in an inventory of fears with my greatest monsters.
The Flowers.
photo: @shotsbyjulianne
"My bedroom is a sacred place now."
Three girls are at the foot of my bed.
They told me stories about the friends that pretended to have them, and now no longer are present with them.
Little yellow flowers that I grew myself in white vases
Lavender scent of the secret room.
baby blue bird.
only some understand.
The longer I stay in my secret place here
the more I am sure i will not fall back into the forceful habit of inappreciation.
photo: @shotsbyjulianne
"My bedroom is a sacred place now."
Three girls are at the foot of my bed.
They told me stories about the friends that pretended to have them, and now no longer are present with them.
Little yellow flowers that I grew myself in white vases
Lavender scent of the secret room.
baby blue bird.
only some understand.
The longer I stay in my secret place here
the more I am sure i will not fall back into the forceful habit of inappreciation.
Inventory of Fears
by Molly Carlson My life is valued with an inventory of fears now. They sit in the basement of my own soul, with just one string light in the middle of a dark room. I spent time confiding love with a person behind a mask. Their ever so silent whispers, echoed as ¨i love you¨s. Once a mask was lifted upon the the night of a New Year, I noticed thoughts of commitment can be immature. yes, I said it. and yes, you are. You want respect, yet act like a child. No more games for you. Your mask created my basement of an inventory of fears. ¨im bad¨ ¨im alone¨ ¨im crazy¨ ¨i have no love left¨ The Hammock.
by Molly Carlson I still lay in the hammock some days. No it’s not the same, feels empty... it feels like with one slip, I will fall out. I remember the warmth of the 5 o’clock sun upon my skin, which quickly turned to the 7 o clock breeze. I look to my right, and I saw happiness, adventure and every possible thing I had not had in my life before that moment. Everything my body was craving. Do you think the wood table is still there, with its mold and broken nails? Someday I’ll go back there and sit at that wood table. Watch the deer walk and the feel the 5 o clock sun on my skin. FRANKFORT.
by Molly Carlson Are you forgetting how It felt to indulge into the open? Not worrying is not a feeling anymore. Used to feel surrounded by culture. Now arms only hug you in, in the rarest moments. Are you who you used to be before? Structure to the core of your own mind. Now stop, and When you close your eyes you should feel like you’re running along the beach in Frankfort. Playing Pinegrove, a never ending landscape. Now if you close your eyes and see darkness, you’re doing it wrong. SHARE YOUR WORDS
|
Life of a traveler.
by Molly Carlson Where have you been my whole life? I always imagined, a spitting image, of a different perspective of myself. I reckon, I’m in a dream. Where I’m able to visit the desert, and wonder where the stars take me. A dream were within just one moment, you know me better than I know my own self. An illusion of perfection. How did the compass find you from once 7,000 miles away. Play me to sleep, my traveler, so I can never stop this dream. But Me.
by Molly Carlson Some people drink, until they wake up in a random place. Others go from body to body, hoping they will find someone who fits into the shape of the person they once loved. They inhale chemicals or plants to numb the longing of what it feels like to miss someone. But me? I write until it hurts. I write until all the anger and frustration all the sadness all the confusion settles. Helping me heal from the person that hurt me the most. Nothing going on.
by Molly Carlson I finally have no reason for tears, not today at 1:25. First time in a while. I felt close to my own self. The background hum of the television, love has room to grow. "No more secrets, no more reasons to put off what I already knew", No more big projects to help me get done before Friday, No more new ways of listening, no new Pink Floyd songs to play. "No more joints being fractured, and no melodies chanting in the bars of my own head. " So you run to catch up with the sun, but it’s sinking. short of breath, but one day closer, he sang. No news, nothing going on at 1:25 just a background hum of the television. Bad Scrape.
by Molly Carlson "I told you don’t buy me flowers; they live, they die, that hurts. That’s something we will have to work on, or is that just me." We’re we thinking of the same thing? I have eyes in the back of my head, but I never saw this one coming. It stings like fresh scrap from the concrete. You decided to hand me a band aid, and continue walking forward without me. I understand and I thank you, but the sting doesn’t go away. |
Submissions
The words of your peers.
Traffic
by Julianne Dial
photo : @shotsbyjulianne
let’s kiss at a red light
glow overheating the sparks of black
you grace my lungs
lungs of blue and red and blue
a beetle sinks into the grass
and you notice --
you notice the crinkle in my nose when my laugh gives an echo
how my eyes begin to fall into the black when we’re lying
alone, together. how a body grabs a body.
hungry.it’s sharp. it’s ache. it’s nectar.
we’ll build a fort and fill it with maple trees gone gaudy with cobalt wishing stones.
we’ll crawl inside and imagine how maybe we used to laugh.
the hum of incandescence.
the lips we nurse begin to burn in unrequited alleyways. we count morning stars falling for their target audiences.
we aren’t to blame for shots that pan from bare bed to window
by Julianne Dial
photo : @shotsbyjulianne
let’s kiss at a red light
glow overheating the sparks of black
you grace my lungs
lungs of blue and red and blue
a beetle sinks into the grass
and you notice --
you notice the crinkle in my nose when my laugh gives an echo
how my eyes begin to fall into the black when we’re lying
alone, together. how a body grabs a body.
hungry.it’s sharp. it’s ache. it’s nectar.
we’ll build a fort and fill it with maple trees gone gaudy with cobalt wishing stones.
we’ll crawl inside and imagine how maybe we used to laugh.
the hum of incandescence.
the lips we nurse begin to burn in unrequited alleyways. we count morning stars falling for their target audiences.
we aren’t to blame for shots that pan from bare bed to window
Making love poetically
by EB
Handsomely you sit
dwelled in a tree
silent and kind
watching over me
your evergreen eyes
and your crooked smile
and with your humorous glance
you asked for a dance
those fragmented dimples
that form at the end of your lips
who knew those small features
could make me fall in love like this
you’re intelligent but kind
strong but gentle
you watch as a protecter
as my guardian angel
you tell me i’m beautiful
you tell me i’m enough
slowly kiss me
and slowly make love
and though you vividly lose yourself
only a whisper away
you still hold me
and make sure i’m okay
i was caught in a daydream
caught in the wind
but i didn’t blow away
for i did not sin
you dug your love into my body
but there wasn’t pain
for i finally felt like somebody
all because you loved me
by EB
Handsomely you sit
dwelled in a tree
silent and kind
watching over me
your evergreen eyes
and your crooked smile
and with your humorous glance
you asked for a dance
those fragmented dimples
that form at the end of your lips
who knew those small features
could make me fall in love like this
you’re intelligent but kind
strong but gentle
you watch as a protecter
as my guardian angel
you tell me i’m beautiful
you tell me i’m enough
slowly kiss me
and slowly make love
and though you vividly lose yourself
only a whisper away
you still hold me
and make sure i’m okay
i was caught in a daydream
caught in the wind
but i didn’t blow away
for i did not sin
you dug your love into my body
but there wasn’t pain
for i finally felt like somebody
all because you loved me
He saved me!
by Natalie Walsh
When I write stuff that really reaches out to people, I love to listen to music while doing it. Especially worship music if you are into that or not. Now, in the world, we have so much to thank God for, but we also have so much that we wish he did this past year but didn’t happen. This past year we can all agree that it was not what we expected. Throughout the whole year, all I thought of was “aww 2020, this is my year, this is the year for me to finally get my life in order, and become the best version of myself.” I think everything happened except that. When I think of what God does for others I think of miracles. I think of the passion that he has for helping people through dark times, he wants to do that. He wants you to be successful, and that’s the only thing that he wants. If you think about it. Your parents want you to be successful. Think about this as God is also your parent, he is your everloving father he also has a plan in mind that was made exactly for you. When I think of this past year, a bunch of adjectives come to my mind, HEARTBREAK, INJUSTICE, DEPRESSION, 6 - FEET. This left us wanting so much more. Especially me. When my school first went into quarantine, it was the hardest time. I was so depressed I couldn’t eat, I didn't want to be around anybody. But little did I know, I needed that human interaction that my body craves. It got pretty serious to where I was taken to the hospital for treatment. I did not receive treatment because I didn’t want to leave my mom. I was going to have to leave her for a week, and that was brought to my attention while I was there. Half of my mind thinks that if I would have known that little fact, I would have let my body suffer and I wouldn’t know if I would come out the other end. But I did, it was very challenging, but it was not impossible. With the power of God and my family and friends anything is possible. God didn’t want me to go down that path. He didn’t want to see me yet. I knew deep down that I was not ready to be welcomed into heaven yet. And especially my mom. The words that she told me were “ Natalie, If we lost you, I wouldn’t know what to do.” It was the boost of power that I needed to keep going. Just remember that there is always a path for you. God will lead you in that path. He will welcome you when he is ready:) Psalm 116: 3-4 says “ The cords of death entangled me, the anguish of the grave came over me. I was overcome by distress and sorrow. Then I called on the name of the Lord. Lord, save me!” He saved me!!
by Natalie Walsh
When I write stuff that really reaches out to people, I love to listen to music while doing it. Especially worship music if you are into that or not. Now, in the world, we have so much to thank God for, but we also have so much that we wish he did this past year but didn’t happen. This past year we can all agree that it was not what we expected. Throughout the whole year, all I thought of was “aww 2020, this is my year, this is the year for me to finally get my life in order, and become the best version of myself.” I think everything happened except that. When I think of what God does for others I think of miracles. I think of the passion that he has for helping people through dark times, he wants to do that. He wants you to be successful, and that’s the only thing that he wants. If you think about it. Your parents want you to be successful. Think about this as God is also your parent, he is your everloving father he also has a plan in mind that was made exactly for you. When I think of this past year, a bunch of adjectives come to my mind, HEARTBREAK, INJUSTICE, DEPRESSION, 6 - FEET. This left us wanting so much more. Especially me. When my school first went into quarantine, it was the hardest time. I was so depressed I couldn’t eat, I didn't want to be around anybody. But little did I know, I needed that human interaction that my body craves. It got pretty serious to where I was taken to the hospital for treatment. I did not receive treatment because I didn’t want to leave my mom. I was going to have to leave her for a week, and that was brought to my attention while I was there. Half of my mind thinks that if I would have known that little fact, I would have let my body suffer and I wouldn’t know if I would come out the other end. But I did, it was very challenging, but it was not impossible. With the power of God and my family and friends anything is possible. God didn’t want me to go down that path. He didn’t want to see me yet. I knew deep down that I was not ready to be welcomed into heaven yet. And especially my mom. The words that she told me were “ Natalie, If we lost you, I wouldn’t know what to do.” It was the boost of power that I needed to keep going. Just remember that there is always a path for you. God will lead you in that path. He will welcome you when he is ready:) Psalm 116: 3-4 says “ The cords of death entangled me, the anguish of the grave came over me. I was overcome by distress and sorrow. Then I called on the name of the Lord. Lord, save me!” He saved me!!
Life now.
An anonymous submission.
photo: @shotsbyjulianne
How to navigate this time of peril?
Surrounded by death and sadness.
and sacrificing, yet some still deny.
I will not be muzzled. I’m not going to be brainwashed, my body my choice.The facility is so low.
Split becomes families of who are empathetic and who are selfish.
Dinner becomes a battlefield without trenches, clamor and agitation becoming usual good nights.
I love you’s become one-sided, touches recoiled.
An anonymous submission.
photo: @shotsbyjulianne
How to navigate this time of peril?
Surrounded by death and sadness.
and sacrificing, yet some still deny.
I will not be muzzled. I’m not going to be brainwashed, my body my choice.The facility is so low.
Split becomes families of who are empathetic and who are selfish.
Dinner becomes a battlefield without trenches, clamor and agitation becoming usual good nights.
I love you’s become one-sided, touches recoiled.
A simple statement.
by Lily Grumblatt
he picked a flower, pulled and poked its poor petals, yet expected growth.
by Lily Grumblatt
he picked a flower, pulled and poked its poor petals, yet expected growth.
sleep paralysis.
by Julianne Dial
photo: @arts.skyyy
stone after stone, i’m defacing the river of being in love with you.
true, i don’t care how that sounds.
i have a list of paper maché pieces to transform my body:
uncontrollable
shaking. sleep paralysis. dread of eating. i’m guilty
of pretending the roads to your house are no longer roads
but playground slides angled crooked through the dusk
again the water doesn’t stop; it rains even when the weather is overdue: a holy
parallel. my mouth is rotted & anonymous,
tell me i’m crazy, deface my skin with graffiti,
no matter to me. i’ve lost my senses.
the grainy feeling of a tongues lost taste buds
the bed needs scaffolds.
i’m infatuated of dust but only new dust arriving unmarked, after you leave. after you leave, you leave & thicketed in sludge I’ve been glued open. I have read the whole moon cycle; it doesn’t explain the cracks.
mercury for once cannot be blamed.
my dishes float in soap like little planets.
i drop my hands in the sink. they come up vacant
you can’t see my eyes.
you’ve never seen them.
by Julianne Dial
photo: @arts.skyyy
stone after stone, i’m defacing the river of being in love with you.
true, i don’t care how that sounds.
i have a list of paper maché pieces to transform my body:
uncontrollable
shaking. sleep paralysis. dread of eating. i’m guilty
of pretending the roads to your house are no longer roads
but playground slides angled crooked through the dusk
again the water doesn’t stop; it rains even when the weather is overdue: a holy
parallel. my mouth is rotted & anonymous,
tell me i’m crazy, deface my skin with graffiti,
no matter to me. i’ve lost my senses.
the grainy feeling of a tongues lost taste buds
the bed needs scaffolds.
i’m infatuated of dust but only new dust arriving unmarked, after you leave. after you leave, you leave & thicketed in sludge I’ve been glued open. I have read the whole moon cycle; it doesn’t explain the cracks.
mercury for once cannot be blamed.
my dishes float in soap like little planets.
i drop my hands in the sink. they come up vacant
you can’t see my eyes.
you’ve never seen them.
Jack Daniel´s
An anonymous submission
when i was about five year old i had a shirt. the shirt was covered in a cute little monkey and big bubble letters that wrote out the phrase, “daddy’s girl.” the irony, of this monkey shirt, was the fact i didn’t even know my dad. sure, he lived in my house, said hellos and goodbyes, sat on the couch with his bourbon in one hand and the tv remote in the other, but that was it. i never got to know his middle name, or why he hated to attend church but always played the sunday sermons on the radio, how he made mom fall in love with him or why he always listened to that damn Eli Young Band song. one of my only memories of him as a kid was when i fell super hard and started to cry, he looked at me and said, “you’re ok. just get back up. see you’re ok!” and just like that i was and my tears dried. and of course i have those scattered memories of the drinking with dan and all the fights with mom, but each year i get older the more i try to cling to those smaller memories with the monkey shirt and dried tears. because with each year, the more i long for what i never got as a kid. how i never played with him in the pool or danced at a dads and daughters dance with him or just simply sat there by him and listened to his 80s hair bands. for each year the more i want to apologize to the little girl whose “daddy’s girl” shirt turned into daddy issues.
An anonymous submission
when i was about five year old i had a shirt. the shirt was covered in a cute little monkey and big bubble letters that wrote out the phrase, “daddy’s girl.” the irony, of this monkey shirt, was the fact i didn’t even know my dad. sure, he lived in my house, said hellos and goodbyes, sat on the couch with his bourbon in one hand and the tv remote in the other, but that was it. i never got to know his middle name, or why he hated to attend church but always played the sunday sermons on the radio, how he made mom fall in love with him or why he always listened to that damn Eli Young Band song. one of my only memories of him as a kid was when i fell super hard and started to cry, he looked at me and said, “you’re ok. just get back up. see you’re ok!” and just like that i was and my tears dried. and of course i have those scattered memories of the drinking with dan and all the fights with mom, but each year i get older the more i try to cling to those smaller memories with the monkey shirt and dried tears. because with each year, the more i long for what i never got as a kid. how i never played with him in the pool or danced at a dads and daughters dance with him or just simply sat there by him and listened to his 80s hair bands. for each year the more i want to apologize to the little girl whose “daddy’s girl” shirt turned into daddy issues.
The interrogation
by Julianne Dial
if they ask you how it was to know her
tell them she carved your being
through a supernova of confusion
and you begged to whoever the fuck
sees into our fragile fates
that she would always, always,
return to your presence
and if they ask you how it was to feel her
tell them you struck closer than veins
lightning on her rugged silk
she had not been washed
and you used
the whole world of yours
to clean her
but she never became clean
and when they ask you how it was to see her
tell them your eyes were washed
with the salt of the sea
the sand of the shore.
seaweed slipping off your shoulders
as you tried to hold her hands
and when they ask you how it was
to break her, tell them nothing but the truth
tell them how her ribs caved in
to show the blood-stained wildflowers
infested with your fingertips
by Julianne Dial
if they ask you how it was to know her
tell them she carved your being
through a supernova of confusion
and you begged to whoever the fuck
sees into our fragile fates
that she would always, always,
return to your presence
and if they ask you how it was to feel her
tell them you struck closer than veins
lightning on her rugged silk
she had not been washed
and you used
the whole world of yours
to clean her
but she never became clean
and when they ask you how it was to see her
tell them your eyes were washed
with the salt of the sea
the sand of the shore.
seaweed slipping off your shoulders
as you tried to hold her hands
and when they ask you how it was
to break her, tell them nothing but the truth
tell them how her ribs caved in
to show the blood-stained wildflowers
infested with your fingertips
I'm Brave.
TW //sexual assault
An anonymous submission
photo: @art.skyyy
life is hard when you have secrets. sad secrets, traumatic secrets. a recurring memory. him standing over me. the smile he had on his face. the grin. the snicker. yet he gets away with his deed. and i am left to suffer. his name left untouched, unlike me. touched everywhere. if he reads this, i hope he knows that he is the reason i am who i am.
he made me brave.
*****
TW //sexual assault
An anonymous submission
photo: @art.skyyy
life is hard when you have secrets. sad secrets, traumatic secrets. a recurring memory. him standing over me. the smile he had on his face. the grin. the snicker. yet he gets away with his deed. and i am left to suffer. his name left untouched, unlike me. touched everywhere. if he reads this, i hope he knows that he is the reason i am who i am.
he made me brave.
*****
Good
by L
You’re good in the way that one might be after they climb nearly to the top of the alpes but suffer from a stroke right before they reach the top. Good like a dead end magician is after he gives a magnificent show all to return home to his apartment with the stained carpets and jobless roommate. When the magician turns to him and says “I’m good”, Good like the fact that you don’t love me is poppycock. Like your entire existence screams balderdash. Your good like the moment after you realize you’ve used the wrong your. You’re sentence has now been ruined This is all to say I think we should date
by L
You’re good in the way that one might be after they climb nearly to the top of the alpes but suffer from a stroke right before they reach the top. Good like a dead end magician is after he gives a magnificent show all to return home to his apartment with the stained carpets and jobless roommate. When the magician turns to him and says “I’m good”, Good like the fact that you don’t love me is poppycock. Like your entire existence screams balderdash. Your good like the moment after you realize you’ve used the wrong your. You’re sentence has now been ruined This is all to say I think we should date
Make it what you want.
by Alex Craven
As human being on the face of the earth, we experience everything that creates who we are today. There are times where we are living our best life and wish those days would never come to an end. Then, there are days when we can’t get ourselves out of bed. Whatever stage you’re at right now, I want to emphasize how important it is for us to understand that we have complete control over our own emotions. Take charge of your emotions and the life that you want to live. It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to feel lost. Whatever you’re feeling is complete valid & normal. However, we can’t let those thoughts and emotions control every aspect of our life. Everyone deserve to live the life that they envision to have one day. It might take days, weeks, months, and even years to be at the place that you want to be. But, just remember good things don’t come easy to us. So, I strongly urge you to start by taking small steps and set small goals to get to the big goals. Start to appreciate the little things that may seem so underrated. Once we show gratitude and appreciation towards the small things in life, we step back and realize how beautiful our life is. If you made it this far, I want to let you know that you have a purpose. And I know you heard that phrase time and time again, but I’ve never heard such an accurate statement. Let yourself radiate into this beautiful world because we need you. I hope this gives you the courage to start creating your life that you want.
by Alex Craven
As human being on the face of the earth, we experience everything that creates who we are today. There are times where we are living our best life and wish those days would never come to an end. Then, there are days when we can’t get ourselves out of bed. Whatever stage you’re at right now, I want to emphasize how important it is for us to understand that we have complete control over our own emotions. Take charge of your emotions and the life that you want to live. It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to feel lost. Whatever you’re feeling is complete valid & normal. However, we can’t let those thoughts and emotions control every aspect of our life. Everyone deserve to live the life that they envision to have one day. It might take days, weeks, months, and even years to be at the place that you want to be. But, just remember good things don’t come easy to us. So, I strongly urge you to start by taking small steps and set small goals to get to the big goals. Start to appreciate the little things that may seem so underrated. Once we show gratitude and appreciation towards the small things in life, we step back and realize how beautiful our life is. If you made it this far, I want to let you know that you have a purpose. And I know you heard that phrase time and time again, but I’ve never heard such an accurate statement. Let yourself radiate into this beautiful world because we need you. I hope this gives you the courage to start creating your life that you want.
Undo me
by Hannah Tulett
photo: @arts.skyyy
when we met i was so enamored by you everything you said everything you did , every time you so much as talked to me or said my name. I wanted to make you laugh. I wanted to be with you, every second, of every day. and you looked right through me. so I grew up. and we grew close. and I got to know you. but i got over it. then we...we started changing I held you at arm’s length, but then you learned how to spin me. and it was fun, and exciting, some part of me realized I still… what am i supposed to do with this now? why are you doing this to me now? did you know it would hurt? did you know it would undo me?
by Hannah Tulett
photo: @arts.skyyy
when we met i was so enamored by you everything you said everything you did , every time you so much as talked to me or said my name. I wanted to make you laugh. I wanted to be with you, every second, of every day. and you looked right through me. so I grew up. and we grew close. and I got to know you. but i got over it. then we...we started changing I held you at arm’s length, but then you learned how to spin me. and it was fun, and exciting, some part of me realized I still… what am i supposed to do with this now? why are you doing this to me now? did you know it would hurt? did you know it would undo me?
A MYA WEISS COLLECTION
photo: @arts.skyyy
Difference in Existence
By Mya Weiss
Humans are so quick to judge one another based solely off of what they can see, when behind that there is so much more. We all are different in our own ways, so what makes one difference better or worse than another? We all need to stop focusing on people’s differences in a negative way, and instead, focus on how amazing that is, that people have so many differences, whether it’s appearance, minds, attractions, preferences, or way of thinking entirely, everyone is completely different and uniquely themselves. That is what keeps life interesting. If we were all the same, how would life ever work? There would be no emotions, no love, no loss, no life at all, just existence, and that’s not what I signed up for. Everyone and everything just wants to live, so let them.
Fading
By Mya Weiss
The days will fade, memories will eventually too. You’ll never be able to go back, no matter how much you wish you could, so all you can do is move forward. Make the memories worth making, and live the life worth living, because before you know it, your life will fade too.
Shadow
By Mya Weiss
It is like a shadow, it follows you around everywhere you go, always close behind. You stare at the sun so long it feels like its gone away completely. But once that cloud comes back, and the sun is covered again, it surrounds you, confines you to that feeling you know oh so well. Traps you in the same way that it’s done millions of times before. You’re frozen, you can’t breath. It’s almost as if something else has more control over you than you do. Everything continues to go on around you, but you stop. You know this feeling well, yet it still overtakes you, it still makes your already hard day even harder, it still makes you feel weak, it’s still just as unbearable as it was the first time it happened, yet you push through that pain, even though you know it will be just as hard the next time too.
photo: @arts.skyyy
Difference in Existence
By Mya Weiss
Humans are so quick to judge one another based solely off of what they can see, when behind that there is so much more. We all are different in our own ways, so what makes one difference better or worse than another? We all need to stop focusing on people’s differences in a negative way, and instead, focus on how amazing that is, that people have so many differences, whether it’s appearance, minds, attractions, preferences, or way of thinking entirely, everyone is completely different and uniquely themselves. That is what keeps life interesting. If we were all the same, how would life ever work? There would be no emotions, no love, no loss, no life at all, just existence, and that’s not what I signed up for. Everyone and everything just wants to live, so let them.
Fading
By Mya Weiss
The days will fade, memories will eventually too. You’ll never be able to go back, no matter how much you wish you could, so all you can do is move forward. Make the memories worth making, and live the life worth living, because before you know it, your life will fade too.
Shadow
By Mya Weiss
It is like a shadow, it follows you around everywhere you go, always close behind. You stare at the sun so long it feels like its gone away completely. But once that cloud comes back, and the sun is covered again, it surrounds you, confines you to that feeling you know oh so well. Traps you in the same way that it’s done millions of times before. You’re frozen, you can’t breath. It’s almost as if something else has more control over you than you do. Everything continues to go on around you, but you stop. You know this feeling well, yet it still overtakes you, it still makes your already hard day even harder, it still makes you feel weak, it’s still just as unbearable as it was the first time it happened, yet you push through that pain, even though you know it will be just as hard the next time too.
An illusion
An anonymous submission
photo: @shotsbyjulianne
Life can be an illusion sometimes, every thing can look awful.
As hard as it is right now, your time will come in the future.
Two words of advice for people going through tough times:
Patience and Perseverance.
It all will be worth it in the future, you just need to see it out and make it trough one day at a time. One day you will look back and think “this was all worth it”, so just remember that everyday, especially when you are questioning yourself and purpose in this world. Everyone has dreams no matter how big or small, just stick to it and get back up every in every time you want to lay flat face down on the ground. Only you have to power to control your life, so make it a good one because you cannot undo time.
Be the change in your life, you will be happy one day but getting there is not lite work.
An anonymous submission
photo: @shotsbyjulianne
Life can be an illusion sometimes, every thing can look awful.
As hard as it is right now, your time will come in the future.
Two words of advice for people going through tough times:
Patience and Perseverance.
It all will be worth it in the future, you just need to see it out and make it trough one day at a time. One day you will look back and think “this was all worth it”, so just remember that everyday, especially when you are questioning yourself and purpose in this world. Everyone has dreams no matter how big or small, just stick to it and get back up every in every time you want to lay flat face down on the ground. Only you have to power to control your life, so make it a good one because you cannot undo time.
Be the change in your life, you will be happy one day but getting there is not lite work.
Green Glitter 77
by Julian Gonzalez
photo: @enna.fretz
It’s 11:50 in the morning right now.
Not that time is real or a possession.
But right now, it is not my time.
In theory, my time are the hours of the night.
My favorites are 1 through 4.
The shadows make me feel different,
They make me feel refreshed and cool.
More lively, present, disorganized, sporadic
And at the same time
More disconnected and imaginative.
Darkness is so cool
Without light, I see nothing.
But I can also see everything
Ha!
I don’t see monsters or killers,
I see the words I can use for my next pop song.
I see the Capricorn girl who I can’t seem to get over.
I see so much
I truly never see enough.
But right now, all I can see is the real world.
by Julian Gonzalez
photo: @enna.fretz
It’s 11:50 in the morning right now.
Not that time is real or a possession.
But right now, it is not my time.
In theory, my time are the hours of the night.
My favorites are 1 through 4.
The shadows make me feel different,
They make me feel refreshed and cool.
More lively, present, disorganized, sporadic
And at the same time
More disconnected and imaginative.
Darkness is so cool
Without light, I see nothing.
But I can also see everything
Ha!
I don’t see monsters or killers,
I see the words I can use for my next pop song.
I see the Capricorn girl who I can’t seem to get over.
I see so much
I truly never see enough.
But right now, all I can see is the real world.
Words from Shannon Thompson
photo: @shotsbyjulianne
Age two, trees tall, no need for that stroller. My mom’s messy curls, a highlighted blonde, seemed like rays from Jesus in the summer sun because to me she was an angel. My dad, skin as red as his hair, didn’t care, wasn’t yet an angel. Undeterred by my constant wobble, I strutted. Undeterred by my constant wobble, I skipped. Blistering heat matched my blistering feet. I wear my shoes how I want to, I can dress myself. I set my own boundaries. Maybe I fell on purpose, don’t have to walk after that. Skinned summer knees burn as if the sun peeled them itself, the way it does my dad’s back. My dad can carry me, no need for that stroller. Milk it, more tears means more sweets when we get home. Striking a pose, the flowers greet me as I approach. My trike, more wheels than my years, calls to me. It doesn’t hurt so bad. ‘No, I’ve already hurt myself, playtime’s over.’ My pavement peeled skin prickles and percolates the instant I lose control. ‘Better wash it, don’t want an infection.’ Blacktop pebbles bury themselves beneath my bloody surface, their bumps imprinted onto my hands. Damp cloths feel like daggers. Suspense grows more and more with the bathroom fan monster’s growls. My stomach growls in tune, more sweets. The sugar dad dumped in my plain cheerios this morning crashed hours ago. Clinking and hissing puts the fan to shame. Flight and fight will fail and I feel uneasy. I’ve already had enough of the sun, don’t need Solarcaine. Persistent pleading won’t appease her, she has the power. Trapped on porcelain, nowhere to run. Tears come easy now as she nears with the aerosol bottle. She sets down the spray seeing my hysteria. Relief seeps into my bloodstream like oxygen. ‘Pinky promise, she won’t.’ Trust turns the tables like telling the truth. She’s shit at that. The betrayal sets in as I mourn my distressed knee. Teddy Bear's Playhouse greets me with a vivacious smile as my mom rolls me to the door in my stroller.
photo: @shotsbyjulianne
Age two, trees tall, no need for that stroller. My mom’s messy curls, a highlighted blonde, seemed like rays from Jesus in the summer sun because to me she was an angel. My dad, skin as red as his hair, didn’t care, wasn’t yet an angel. Undeterred by my constant wobble, I strutted. Undeterred by my constant wobble, I skipped. Blistering heat matched my blistering feet. I wear my shoes how I want to, I can dress myself. I set my own boundaries. Maybe I fell on purpose, don’t have to walk after that. Skinned summer knees burn as if the sun peeled them itself, the way it does my dad’s back. My dad can carry me, no need for that stroller. Milk it, more tears means more sweets when we get home. Striking a pose, the flowers greet me as I approach. My trike, more wheels than my years, calls to me. It doesn’t hurt so bad. ‘No, I’ve already hurt myself, playtime’s over.’ My pavement peeled skin prickles and percolates the instant I lose control. ‘Better wash it, don’t want an infection.’ Blacktop pebbles bury themselves beneath my bloody surface, their bumps imprinted onto my hands. Damp cloths feel like daggers. Suspense grows more and more with the bathroom fan monster’s growls. My stomach growls in tune, more sweets. The sugar dad dumped in my plain cheerios this morning crashed hours ago. Clinking and hissing puts the fan to shame. Flight and fight will fail and I feel uneasy. I’ve already had enough of the sun, don’t need Solarcaine. Persistent pleading won’t appease her, she has the power. Trapped on porcelain, nowhere to run. Tears come easy now as she nears with the aerosol bottle. She sets down the spray seeing my hysteria. Relief seeps into my bloodstream like oxygen. ‘Pinky promise, she won’t.’ Trust turns the tables like telling the truth. She’s shit at that. The betrayal sets in as I mourn my distressed knee. Teddy Bear's Playhouse greets me with a vivacious smile as my mom rolls me to the door in my stroller.
I remember.
An anonymous submission
photo: @shotsbyjulianne
I remember gradually losing myself. I remember wondering whether the fat on my skin should be even more rid of and whether I looked the part of the perfect girl. Was someone going to call me fat again? Was I going to be made fun of for my weight still? Flashbacks from stupid middle school appear in my head. I remember how I made sure to eat that single piece of broccoli, so my poor mom didn’t worry, even though I know she did. I remember having sleepless nights over having a piece of chocolate and wondering why I am such a failure. I remember refusing to eat with my friends due to not wanting to consume any food. I remember my health falling apart. I remember the doctor saying I may need surgery. I remember laying on the hospital bed, wondering what I had done to myself. I remember staring up at the flickering white lights in the bland hospital room, trying to wrap my head around the fact that I need help. I didn’t want to admit it. I remember the day I chose to start recovery. I remember the day I could finally see glimpses of the real me again.
An anonymous submission
photo: @shotsbyjulianne
I remember gradually losing myself. I remember wondering whether the fat on my skin should be even more rid of and whether I looked the part of the perfect girl. Was someone going to call me fat again? Was I going to be made fun of for my weight still? Flashbacks from stupid middle school appear in my head. I remember how I made sure to eat that single piece of broccoli, so my poor mom didn’t worry, even though I know she did. I remember having sleepless nights over having a piece of chocolate and wondering why I am such a failure. I remember refusing to eat with my friends due to not wanting to consume any food. I remember my health falling apart. I remember the doctor saying I may need surgery. I remember laying on the hospital bed, wondering what I had done to myself. I remember staring up at the flickering white lights in the bland hospital room, trying to wrap my head around the fact that I need help. I didn’t want to admit it. I remember the day I chose to start recovery. I remember the day I could finally see glimpses of the real me again.
Set me free
by Abby Potoff
photo : @shotsbyjulianne
Set Me Free Relieve me of those thoughts. I cannot find myself to bring my mind off you. I cannot find myself. In my thoughts, I am getting lost and lost drowning within every second my mind may wander at the idea of you. You, it is always you. The inconsideration of anyone but yourself seems to drive me crazy, crazy for you. Everything I do is for you for you for you Set me free is all I ask.
by Abby Potoff
photo : @shotsbyjulianne
Set Me Free Relieve me of those thoughts. I cannot find myself to bring my mind off you. I cannot find myself. In my thoughts, I am getting lost and lost drowning within every second my mind may wander at the idea of you. You, it is always you. The inconsideration of anyone but yourself seems to drive me crazy, crazy for you. Everything I do is for you for you for you Set me free is all I ask.
Words from Aaron J Puno
Racial justice in 2021? Don’t forget about transit and urban freeways Over the past year or so, calls for racial justice in this country have increased dramatically. Injustices of the past and present have been front and center. But I, as a self-proclaimed planning geek and an urbanist-in-training, think that there is a great deal of injustice that many on the activist left or the common person on the street have never learned about. There once was a man named Robert Moses. Moses was the influential Master Builder of New York City during a large portion of the 20th Century. Moses was decidedly pro-car and anti-transit. Robert Moses was mainly responsible for Freeways driven straight through Downtowns and city neighborhoods. A staggering amount of these neighborhoods were minority neighborhoods, which are now disconnected and decimated. We can see examples of this in Detroit. I-75 and I-375 were built through the wealthy minority neighborhood of Black Bottom. While we may never see Black Bottom again, we can rectify the mistakes of the past. The lifespan of most infrastructure for I-375 is passed it’s good-by date. MDOT is currently considering tearing down the underused and over intrusive freeway and replacing it with a much more equitable and attractive boulevard. MDOT might also redesign the interchange that links I-375 and I-75 to be less intrusive. We owe it to racial justice efforts as well as climate justice and urban efforts to push MDOT to get rid of this freeway. That’s not all we can do, though. With the death of anti-transit Oakland County Executive L. Brooks Patterson in 2019, and a new transit-friendly administration in Washington, Metro Detroit voters could pass a new version of the RTA Transit Plan in 2022. The 2016 RTA plan was narrowly defeated after the Koch brothers and other oil and gas interests poured millions into defeating the plan. A plan in 2022 would establish regional rail service between Ann Arbor and Detroit, as well as bus rapid transit (heavily upgraded busses with dedicated lanes/paths and train-like stations) on Michigan, Gratiot, Woodward, and Jefferson Avenues, as well as local, cross-county, and commuter bus services across the metro area. Everybody is helped by better public transportation. According to a widely distributed Harvard study, access to transportation is the number one factor in an individual’s ability to get out of poverty. More public transportation means more people are able to get to jobs across Metro Detroit and less traffic on our streets by reducing car use. More transit and transit ridership, even using diesel and gasoline powered equipment, would still be orders of magnitude better for climate change than the same amount of people being transported by automobiles. So, I call on all of you reading this, activist left or common sap on the street, to advocate for I-375 removal and regional transit on the ballot in 2022.
Racial justice in 2021? Don’t forget about transit and urban freeways Over the past year or so, calls for racial justice in this country have increased dramatically. Injustices of the past and present have been front and center. But I, as a self-proclaimed planning geek and an urbanist-in-training, think that there is a great deal of injustice that many on the activist left or the common person on the street have never learned about. There once was a man named Robert Moses. Moses was the influential Master Builder of New York City during a large portion of the 20th Century. Moses was decidedly pro-car and anti-transit. Robert Moses was mainly responsible for Freeways driven straight through Downtowns and city neighborhoods. A staggering amount of these neighborhoods were minority neighborhoods, which are now disconnected and decimated. We can see examples of this in Detroit. I-75 and I-375 were built through the wealthy minority neighborhood of Black Bottom. While we may never see Black Bottom again, we can rectify the mistakes of the past. The lifespan of most infrastructure for I-375 is passed it’s good-by date. MDOT is currently considering tearing down the underused and over intrusive freeway and replacing it with a much more equitable and attractive boulevard. MDOT might also redesign the interchange that links I-375 and I-75 to be less intrusive. We owe it to racial justice efforts as well as climate justice and urban efforts to push MDOT to get rid of this freeway. That’s not all we can do, though. With the death of anti-transit Oakland County Executive L. Brooks Patterson in 2019, and a new transit-friendly administration in Washington, Metro Detroit voters could pass a new version of the RTA Transit Plan in 2022. The 2016 RTA plan was narrowly defeated after the Koch brothers and other oil and gas interests poured millions into defeating the plan. A plan in 2022 would establish regional rail service between Ann Arbor and Detroit, as well as bus rapid transit (heavily upgraded busses with dedicated lanes/paths and train-like stations) on Michigan, Gratiot, Woodward, and Jefferson Avenues, as well as local, cross-county, and commuter bus services across the metro area. Everybody is helped by better public transportation. According to a widely distributed Harvard study, access to transportation is the number one factor in an individual’s ability to get out of poverty. More public transportation means more people are able to get to jobs across Metro Detroit and less traffic on our streets by reducing car use. More transit and transit ridership, even using diesel and gasoline powered equipment, would still be orders of magnitude better for climate change than the same amount of people being transported by automobiles. So, I call on all of you reading this, activist left or common sap on the street, to advocate for I-375 removal and regional transit on the ballot in 2022.
Growing up
by Ilsa Barnes
photo: @shansingz
i knew i was growing up when i stopped sleeping with my bear
i knew i was growing up when i stopped running up the stairs
i knew i was growing up when my parents were getting old
i knew i was growing up when my toys were getting sold
i knew i was growing up when i cared about what i wore
i knew i was growing up when i found myself sobbing on the floor
by Ilsa Barnes
photo: @shansingz
i knew i was growing up when i stopped sleeping with my bear
i knew i was growing up when i stopped running up the stairs
i knew i was growing up when my parents were getting old
i knew i was growing up when my toys were getting sold
i knew i was growing up when i cared about what i wore
i knew i was growing up when i found myself sobbing on the floor
I just wanted to be White.
by Manar Khan
photo: @shansingz
I wanted my skin to match yours
The color of beauty, The color of privilege
The color that blends with the snow
I wanted to bleach my skin to match yours
Now I am proud
Proud of how far I’ve come
Proud of the rich culture my skin carries
Proud of my smooth brown skin
Skin that smells like fresh cardamom and turmeric
Now I am proud of my skin
by Manar Khan
photo: @shansingz
I wanted my skin to match yours
The color of beauty, The color of privilege
The color that blends with the snow
I wanted to bleach my skin to match yours
Now I am proud
Proud of how far I’ve come
Proud of the rich culture my skin carries
Proud of my smooth brown skin
Skin that smells like fresh cardamom and turmeric
Now I am proud of my skin
Finally Free
by Sam Craven
photo: @shansingz
Finally Free I did it, I did it One foot after another one day at a time the hold you had on me and on my mind. You grip was strong but my will was stronger, my will to live my will to laugh my will to see tomorrows end. I did it, I did it I will never forget how in the beginning all I was was happy but the longer I let you whisper in my ear the short my days became, the short my life would be. You never loved me at least not like I loved you, behind your eyes was a constant threat a threat to be left in the mess i had become. I did it, I did it When you weakened your grip just in the slightest I slipped away far away, i found myself longing for you back i wanted your touch you voice your grip back on my neck. I took a step, one more away, I didnt need you I didnt have to stay I did it, I did it I will always love you but you wont love me. I will never forget my time with you standing just next to me. But I did it I finally left and I am finally free. I no longer need you and you never needed me.
by Sam Craven
photo: @shansingz
Finally Free I did it, I did it One foot after another one day at a time the hold you had on me and on my mind. You grip was strong but my will was stronger, my will to live my will to laugh my will to see tomorrows end. I did it, I did it I will never forget how in the beginning all I was was happy but the longer I let you whisper in my ear the short my days became, the short my life would be. You never loved me at least not like I loved you, behind your eyes was a constant threat a threat to be left in the mess i had become. I did it, I did it When you weakened your grip just in the slightest I slipped away far away, i found myself longing for you back i wanted your touch you voice your grip back on my neck. I took a step, one more away, I didnt need you I didnt have to stay I did it, I did it I will always love you but you wont love me. I will never forget my time with you standing just next to me. But I did it I finally left and I am finally free. I no longer need you and you never needed me.
An anonymous submission.
as i crack open my window i get a small puff of ice cold air across my cheek, with the vivid memory of your breath hitting the same spot. delicate snowflakes fall through my hair, as your hands once did. the feeling of your kisses on my forehead return, as the cold air nips at my skin. i try to replace you but i never can, because each one of you that comes, is even colder than the last.
as i crack open my window i get a small puff of ice cold air across my cheek, with the vivid memory of your breath hitting the same spot. delicate snowflakes fall through my hair, as your hands once did. the feeling of your kisses on my forehead return, as the cold air nips at my skin. i try to replace you but i never can, because each one of you that comes, is even colder than the last.
An anonymous submission.
You've taken trust and made it wrong. You have made love a dirty word. You’ve given lies and taught me well. I know what I must be to keep the pain and hurt away and carry on for me.
You've taken trust and made it wrong. You have made love a dirty word. You’ve given lies and taught me well. I know what I must be to keep the pain and hurt away and carry on for me.
Insecure vs. confidence.
An anonymous submission.
Insecure. What is your definition of insecure? I define insecure as having self-doubt, not feeling confident, having uncertainty about yourself. Insecurities are a funny thing, right? It’s things we nitpick about ourselves that cause self-destruction in the long run. Everyone at one point in time has felt insecure or has had insecurities; I mean, I have. Is the bump on my nose too big? Is the muscle on my thighs too masculine? Do I talk too much where people get annoyed with me? Are my eyebrows too bushy? Should I pluck them? People associate people who feel insecure as attention seekers, as people who are not grateful. Confidence. I define confidence as self-assurance and appreciating ourselves. People don’t have enough of it, and when they do, they are labeled as conceited or full of themselves. So what if someone likes how they look. So what if someone posts a photo of themselves feeling beautiful. But no, they are just self-centered. Insecure vs. Confidence. Are you going to make me choose?
An anonymous submission.
Insecure. What is your definition of insecure? I define insecure as having self-doubt, not feeling confident, having uncertainty about yourself. Insecurities are a funny thing, right? It’s things we nitpick about ourselves that cause self-destruction in the long run. Everyone at one point in time has felt insecure or has had insecurities; I mean, I have. Is the bump on my nose too big? Is the muscle on my thighs too masculine? Do I talk too much where people get annoyed with me? Are my eyebrows too bushy? Should I pluck them? People associate people who feel insecure as attention seekers, as people who are not grateful. Confidence. I define confidence as self-assurance and appreciating ourselves. People don’t have enough of it, and when they do, they are labeled as conceited or full of themselves. So what if someone likes how they look. So what if someone posts a photo of themselves feeling beautiful. But no, they are just self-centered. Insecure vs. Confidence. Are you going to make me choose?
Words from Rory Sullivian
photo: @shotsbyjulianne
Growing up isn’t easy.
Really it’s the hardest thing you’ll ever do.
One minute you’re happy the next darkness falls upon you.
Growing up is supposed to be fun, but for many it becomes a fantasy.
“Don’t grow up too fast” they always say.
How do we do that when life is moving so fast?
When life isn’t fair and throws every obstacle at you, telling you you’re not good enough.
“Don’t grow up” they say. “
I wish I didn’t” I say quietly
Looking back I wish i took that advice
photo: @shotsbyjulianne
Growing up isn’t easy.
Really it’s the hardest thing you’ll ever do.
One minute you’re happy the next darkness falls upon you.
Growing up is supposed to be fun, but for many it becomes a fantasy.
“Don’t grow up too fast” they always say.
How do we do that when life is moving so fast?
When life isn’t fair and throws every obstacle at you, telling you you’re not good enough.
“Don’t grow up” they say. “
I wish I didn’t” I say quietly
Looking back I wish i took that advice
An anonymous submission
photo: @art.skyyy
We are dreaming of tomorrow and tomorrow isn't coming, We are dreaming of a glory that we don't really want. We are dreaming of a new day when the new day's here already. We are running from the battle when it's one that must be fought. And still we sleep. We are listening for the calling but never really heeding, Hoping for the future when the future's only plans. Dreaming of the wisdom that we are dodging daily, Praying for a savior when salvation's in our hands. And still we sleep. And still we dream. And still we pray. And still we fear. And still we sleep
photo: @art.skyyy
We are dreaming of tomorrow and tomorrow isn't coming, We are dreaming of a glory that we don't really want. We are dreaming of a new day when the new day's here already. We are running from the battle when it's one that must be fought. And still we sleep. We are listening for the calling but never really heeding, Hoping for the future when the future's only plans. Dreaming of the wisdom that we are dodging daily, Praying for a savior when salvation's in our hands. And still we sleep. And still we dream. And still we pray. And still we fear. And still we sleep