by Brittney Watson

My signature of success

Has become my signature of death

My name precedes me

That is the only reason

They need me

I am their fortune and future

While my future is bleak

I am a silenced voice

For only the power of my name speaks

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by Lara Campbell

My loneliness rips through my cartilage.

It tears to the small but shiny dust in my soul.

Do I even have a soul? Have I ever? But yet I still feel.

I feel with every memory, trauma, heartache, wound, mistake,

and failure

Does anyone hear me?

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by Jeneth Hughes

As I sit in the brutal space
I look into an unfamiliar face
They’ve beaten my human side
so long my spirit has nowhere
         to hide
I can’t remember who I once
         was and where I was headed...

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 by Michelle Jones

The body of Juana of Castile is likened unto a strikingly luminescent orb.  An orb floating about the land of her people, equally tangible and intangible, equally desired and repulsed, beautiful, but hard to look at, hard to take in.

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