Young Girls by anonymous

Bird by anonymous

May by Jack Sampson

Lobster White by Dana Sofié Nehring-Terrell

Lobster Blue by Dana Sofié Nehring-Terrell

Pink Lobster by Dana Sofié Nehring-Terrell

Lobster Green by Dana Sofié Nehring-Terrell

Green Grass by Victoria Kreyden

Thin blades of subtle grass–

Cower beneath the thick snow

Until summer comes.

Untitled by Dana Sofié Nehring-Terrell

In her I see something familiar
Something about knowing she is gone
Is haunting me more than the fact that
I wish I were her

The way her eyes look up and maybe feel nothing
Makes me wonder
Where she died and if she was alone

In her mind (and physically)
Stretched
To the point where the blue meets the black
And it’s just an endless strip of sky
No matter how much hope there is in our eyes

Someone who’s insane and insecure
On the edge of things, but too far invested in the good of the world
To let it go without leaving a mark

It’s scary how she parallels my life
To think that she was once alive
To think I could have known her
To think I could become her

And in her smile I don’t see me,
But in her eyes I see the demon
The thing we have in common, our faithful little friend
Gnawing at our core, spilling out our insides
Until we’re raw, and angry, and too far gone to care

And I wish that I could be something like her,
But all together, something the opposite

I see the risk and vulnerability in her eyes,
And I wonder if people see me this way,
Even though I know they don’t.
And sometimes I need to feel like her,
Reckless but scared

She takes my dreams and weaves them
Beautiful dreams, where things are wilting, and everything is a shade of blue
And people are shivering delicately in waves,
And the sea expands and rises, oddly turning the color of her eyes
Inexplicably moving,
Too fast for sound, even though there’s so much commotion

It’s this insecure security that scares me so much,
How we rise to the top, but once we’re there,
We’re so damn scared of falling off the edge,
That we’re willing to catapult ourselves all the way down,
Then float back up,
Just to see how it feels.

04/26/10

Winter by Quentin Toetz

A skull on the wall

A prize that I have claimed

Somewhere a fawn cries