beauty dies here: it slips from your fingers like silt as the sun slips beneath the distant horizon that you can run to but never truly touch. it wilts like the youthful flush in your cheeks as those rose colored days flicker in favor of an untimely and devastatingly human death. everything dies here, except for the distant rumbling of gears and tanks and guns and tears that stop sounding so distant when you listen closely. when i sit here on the rubble, i can hear the sl

Dream Small by Penn N. Teller Eyes creak open And bones complain Once we rise from slumber And stare at the rain An ant suffers With every raindrop Their kingdom will topple Yet their work never stops Whereas our houses Are not made of sand They weather this storm And will surely stand But the day is long And the world is unfair And your eyes are heavy Why even care? Ants smaller than you in size Whom we look down upon Will not look up to someone Whose zeal is all gone Only a

FROM KITCHEN TO SKIN: How I built a DIY Skincare Routine at Home by Itaribo Goodness Everyone wants healthy, glowing skin, but the cost of store-bought skincare products can be a barrier. Skincare isn’t just for the wealthy - it can be accessible to anyone if you know the right ingredients and how to use them. DIY skincare routines are simple, affordable, and effective. You don’t need to constantly buy expensive products to take care of your skin. Sometimes, it’s not about o

A hole is a place that is loud. It’s a place of conflict and gunshots and screams. Of the thundering roars of hate and fear that the rays of the western sunset will never kiss, will never shine on, like an ugly black hole– a disgusting blotch on human essence. A hole is a place that is hollow. It’s a place where all exits and entrances are sealed with the self-righteous thumb of ignorance, where murmured screams echo against the walls and right back into the screamer’s ears,

In Equality by Penn N. Teller Too many men Have drawn conclusions Taking mental note Of society’s exclusions Those excluded refrain From getting involved For the conversation Will surely devolve When will they Stop facing rejection In the midst Of society’s projections? Too many assume In bad faith Haunting the excluded Like wretched wraiths But their stance Stands no ground Except for sheep Societies build around Holding onto faith It will take To vanquish hate And never bre

The Wait, of the World, on our Shoulders The waiting game Cannot be willed by skill Nor by strategy, a tragedy For those who wait until The day their praises are sung The day the prize is won Is such a day as certain As the Moon after the Sun? Food for thought, yes Churning the cerebral cauldron Of a melting pot of men Who must shoulder this burden Some men stagnate And let Time burn But his clocks will tick And his hands will turn And they will learn They were mistaken When

Issue #3: Transitions In the Northern Hemisphere, Spring is finally settling in, and Autumn is finding its way to the Southern Hemisphere. These seasons are often seen as times of change, where one form of existence begins to blend into another. How have you seen the theme of transitions in the world around you or in your own life? Possible topics: Seasons Growing up Transitions How fashion trends change P.S., We're looking for more submissions! Created by Bri, creator of S

As of last week, we've begun introducing optional issues to inspire writers. Last week's prompt was abou t local injustices. Here's issue #2: Issue #2: How is your freedom of speech or expression impacted by where you're from? Is it overtly regulated by the government? Are there more covert ways through which the government or people around you lessen or control your freedom of speech? Is the creation of fashion or art inhibited by the limitations of freedom of speech? How do

I wear black when I feel a certain mood — mysterious, serious, unusual. Often this feeling comes after watching a movie, when I imagine myself as a character. On those days, I become deep, as if I’m keeping a secret. But there are also days when I want pink or something bright. Then I feel a glamorous vibe, a little bit of narcissism even. Bright colors make me feel light, confident, and ready to be seen. I used to think I had to choose one side. That it was strange to be bot

There is a silence that does not live in quiet— but in the spaces between words we almost said. It lingers in the throat, like a confession that grew roots instead of wings. We are archives of almosts— almost love, almost truth, almost becoming something unrecognizable to our past selves. And isn’t it strange— how memory edits itself like a careful liar? It smooths the sharp edges, dims the unbearable light, turns earthquakes into whispers we call “lessons.” But beneath it— o

Women: The kitchen is their home And their homes are their stretch Women: Their families are their lives Their furniture is their friend. Women: Dough is their glove, Their children are their purpose. But wait— Hold your breath for a minute and tie your tongue to your teeth And think. Just think. Open your eyes, broaden your mind and see; How it's Cleopatra who taught us how to lead, And how it's Zenobia who taught us how to save, How it's Kosem who showed us how she mothered

Before the first word there was a silence so complete it remembered everything. Not the silence of empty rooms, but the silence inside a seed waiting beneath winter soil, holding forests no one has seen yet. We are born from that silence. We arrive crying— not because the world is cruel, but because the soul has suddenly become too large for the small body of a moment. And so we spend our lives trying to remember. We build cities of language, towers of certainty, maps of tomo

Carpe diem, Seize the day, Before your time has passed Carpe diem, Life is short, Come, no more living lark, Raise your flag and raise it high Before it is your time to die. Carpe diem, Time long past, Memories are lost for last, Stop this hurt, End it now, Come, don't go break that vow, Carpe diem, Time is short. Written by Angela Rooney, an 8th grader interested in poetry, reading, and writing.

I never realized how easy people thought I had it academically until one day, a friend asked me: “Why do you always seem so calm during exams? What exactly do you do differently?” I understood the origin of the question because no matter how tough, I have never failed an exam, not because I’m the smartest in the room, not because I read for 12 hours straight and definitely not because everything comes easy to me. My real secret? Mindset. The way you think before you read is j