Three Little Birds by Thuy Nguyen

MUTE / ECHO by Josh Skalski

MUTE / ECHO

I don’t know how to speak to

people very well.

I don’t know how

this works.

I don’t know how to say

“I like you”

or

“I think you’re cute”

or

“I want to know you better.”

I speak, but I’m afraid that

you can’t hear

what I’m saying.

And,

what I’m saying is…

I’m just trying to tell you...

How I really feel.

I don’t, I could.

I can’t, I wish

but

That

I

Could

Speak.

And that you could finally hear me.

Quote of the Week

3/23/16

Yesterday I was clever,

So I wanted to change the world.

Today I am wise,

So I am changing myself. 

-Rumi

Happy Feet by Jillian Oliveira

DFd,jkfnwanf by Jillian Oliveira

If I should be alone or if I should not.

A strange, anxious, complex feeling bounces within me.

If I am alone, I think, I hurt.

I notice the goldfish swimming around in the tank, trapped, looking for an escape.

If I am not alone maybe it will stop.

She kisses my hand, it makes me feel warm. 

If I am alone it could stop also, but it hasn't.

The dull colors of the walls present a grey and drowsy feeling.

If I am not alone, I am happy.

If I am not alone, I am sad.

The desperations for relief grows and grows. 

There is an urge to see clearly again, to awaken.

I know I have the power to do so.

But the past prevents me every time. 

Comfortable Silence by Julia Johnson

Comfortable Silence

Working in a restaurant

has forced me to become attuned

to even the faintest sounds

Footsteps tip toeing near me

cause me to look up

from my seated position

on the white tile floor

A bag of crackers in my left hand

A price gun in my right hand

And I stop moving

You stop moving, 

glancing down at me

You are aware of 

my presence

The white shirt you wear

echoes off your pale skin

But your green eyes

glint beneath these fluorescent lights

They catch my attention

And for just a second,

a single, fleeting moment

Where time comes to a 

Stop

I dive head first into the lagoon

those eyes make

No one else noticed this

pause

in breath 

but I did

and I think 

You did too

No words were exchanged

Just a comfortable silence

And that seemed to be

Enough. 

The Typewriter by Julia Johnson

The Typewriter 

Paper piled upon paper

Word stacked upon word

Ink spills from the machine

Ink bleeds from my fingers

It is bulky and heavy

but beautiful all the same

It creates a world that lives

inside my brain

I press down on a key

performing magic in the process

The letters seem to float in

mid-air

bound

to a machine

like the workers in factories

 overseas 

wanting to escape a life 

that doesn't allow them to live

Yet the letters don't mind 

just as long as

they stay clean

Because clean means used

and used means loved

and loved is all 

anyone can ask for

Quote of the Week

3/9

Treat everyone with politeness, 

even those who are rude to you, 

not because they are not nice, 

but because you are nice.