“There was something in the air that night at Casa Del Mar. Something that told me that I was gonna score…”
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The device is screaming.
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Printer paper and poetry
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But I don’t want that. I want to be better, I’d like my plastic heart to be glass again, and I want the world to know that I can be …
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The fox squealed and I looked up. The fox was boldly looking in my direction, its amber eyes glowing in line with my tired ones.
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By Rosemary Rodriguez
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By Evie Riker
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I cannot shake the feeling of perpetual otherness that sits like a paperweight atop the lining of my stomach.
