I keep pulling to free myself From the dead weight Holding me in the past Demons circling around Splitting my pure heart Into shreds for their pleasure I look into the mirror Only to see clouds of black A mist blinding my sight Disguising love as torture That dilutes my core To the point of exhaustion Self-defeat is defeating me As long as I believe it Andrea Lentz is a 30 year old aspiring writer from Austin, Texas, who has been driving away her life in the food

I’ve known dead who grab the steering wheel. Each time I wish they wouldn’t catch me with their eyes like I’m something that’s been broken. I’ve sworn I’m fine, I’m not lying, I’m just neglecting to talk about the reasons behind my wrinkles and the cracks in the plaster on my skin. The truth is, I’ve yelled more about love than sworn over mistakes. Mikael Vinke was previously an acting major at NYU and is now working on a degree in game design at UTD. Mikael has s

Caught out at the turn of the tide you learn to swim beneath the waves though the ocean never meant you harm still, corpses wash up every day. But swim away from that dream the cold one that bites at you the one where you look down on yourself feeling better than you have in years. And looking better with polished shoes and clipped nails a scrap of seaweed pinned in your lapel and a coral wreath around your head. Swim away from that dream the one where the ocean fil

Godspeed Fly ahead Go where I wish to be and feast on worms Fly back And become someone Else’s envy Wisps of life made so hollow In dead eyes and tepid wings Carry my ambitions for me When I send you off To never meet again I’ll never think "Star-winged thing- Fly where you wish Without thought of winter or cold Or the deadness of the earth Or beyond your will or The breath of your young," For if I had There would be no chirping to carry my heart across in spring

what if it just grows like a disgusting fruit and rots, and gets eaten by a hound of flies and what if it painfully strangles me taking me by surprise what if, from there, it’s just a slow ride to the dead valley, to the dreadful alley cornfields, a supernova in the sky spring blossoms, and I can feel the fresh air on my cheeks but then it gets darker and darker until no light can prosper until no eyes can bear the vision of a dry ocean what if it doesn’t get bett

Dear T.S. Eliot, I've seen the greatest minds of my generation destroyed by the lure of the esoteric, comfortable distractions from reality, the dull and ordinary comforts of monotony and security, the lofty ideals of white picket fences around homes with partners who are mere scholars of trivia. Potential greatness reduced to a dull catalogue of common things, the lot of them are. I fear the same pitfall awaits me as I sink into despair ever so slowly, without company - with

Photograph by the author All fowls die young trapped in their cages oblivious to what's outside their inner world oblivious to the meaning of true freedom All birds change their feathers to mimic their environment all birds become flames to survive If I were to become half of what the scenario has done to me If I had the chance of putting on one last costume solely for the sake of entertainment I would choose to be buried alive under all the roses of your dead garden No