That seasonal edition perfume
Might smell like another
Retail brand attempting to
Make a quick buck
From the “cool kids”
Who only shop at their shop.

I, on the other hand, recognize
The smell as that night
I wore a camo zip-up hoodie,
Another retail brand’s
Pink v-neck tee
With the words “American
Eagle” printed in purple on the front,
And a pair of jeans.

I walked into that freshman
Dorm hoping we’d do more than
Just your English Composition paper,
But then you showed me where your
Desk was and I sat down to write
An “A” paper for you.

You sat your left cheek on what
Was left on the seat that I was sitting on
So you could see better than awkwardly
Laying on your bed which was against the desk.

I told you to sit down.
You sat down.
I, then sat on your lap,
“Because now we can both see.”

You said “You smell good”
And the rest was history.

Standing across the table (there were no chairs in the house) was my father, Emilo. The table itself was a sturdy rosewood, and one of the last items in the home. We had sold our belongings after mother had died -- my father said it was to help pay for school. We had each kept one tattered shirt and one nice shirt which I would wear to class every other day (we were shirtless in this moment, no need to sweat in clothes unnecessarily). We had one pair of jeans each - both tattered and mended with old quilts taken from the tailor's trash can. We also kept three of mom's blouses - one for me, one for father, and one for her. We were close to pawning hers, though. On the table, near my father (and, away from me) was my semester's grades and a polished bottle of amber liquor. His skinny arm swung across the table, smashing the bottle of gasoline-smelling alcohol against the bareness of the dry, wood wall. The liquid seeped into the pores of that portion of our home leaving a dripping stain. It never really dried. Two weeks and three days later, my father would flick the ashy edge of a cigarette **** into the wall. He was too drunk to know he wasn't in Hell.

I realized recently

That my biggest fear

Is

Living a boring life.

Not necessarily a life full of regret,

But a life in which I never built my own door of opportunity,

Picked the lock

And stepped inside.

A life in which I never took the risks I knew I had to,

If I wanted even the chance

Of becoming a singer,

Actress,

Comedian.

Not that I mind the regular route,

But that one is already barely guaranteed in the first place.

I don’t even know what job I’d enjoy.

How can I continue like this?

Not knowing if I’ll be okay at the job I’m studying for.

Living comfortably is a luxury these days.

What if I’m not cut out for commission work?

I’m terrified.

It could all be a waste.

I just want to coast if I can’t be happy.

But what if coasting isn’t an option?

What if just managing isn’t an option?

What if I can’t do it?

The whole point is to find a better job, one where I rarely cry because I’m trying my best and it just isn’t good enough.

I hate this misconception, that Millennials are lazy.

I’ve worked my *** off, and I will continue to because that is required to survive.

I’ve worked harder at my minimum wage job than many at their 60k a year plus benefits.

I’m just worried that I’m making the wrong choices,

Because there is information I just cannot know as of yet.

And I could have set myself up for the best, right now.

But I don’t know what that is.

two and three, three and two
the son, me, the moon and you
I’ll be back one night for you
another one night beneath the blue

red and green and fallen trees
fog, steam and icy weaves
you were everything, the breeze
the blizzard, the rain, a hundred degrees


feathers, bricks and party tricks
out looking for that midnight fix
anything’s something when nothing sticks
just take your pick and see what fits

below the stars, beyond the clocks
we danced salsa at needle drops
with candy bars and soda pop
we sang and we danced while the prophets taught


what happened to those nights spent crashing through the morning light?
how did my haze conceal the daze that lay ahead of me?

can you take me back there?
I'm afraid I've missed my only chance
I woke up to find four years had passed
now this child's scared and lonely


seventeen's a symphony of mood swings and movie scenes
moon beams that he sees, she feels as bees’ stings
now please to be with trees, seeds, streams, rocky springs, and prairie seas
sweet retreat from three rings, but fleet feet still need to eat
the mystery of everything that we can think that we could be
little things that we can scheme beneath the sheets, between the seams
what she means to me
but anything that we can dream needs something to breathe its steam, bring the heat, keep the beat, seek the spirit, steal the key
while streets and wheels lead the deal, the kingdom kneels and leaves
feel it bleed, hear us sing
free on twenty-three's wings


this is where the summers end
fest, fair, I called a friend
starry eyed and innocent
wondering where the weekend went

remember running through the snow?
the trains and plains, the fox and crow
but I saw storms through your rainbow
down the rabbit hole that I called home
I waited, you waited, I never showed


where is the static laughter outside my open window?
what is this silent hum, my fluorescent companion?

can you take me back there?
I'm afraid I've missed my only chance
I've grown up and it went by too fast
now the child's gone


two and three, me and you
the sun is set, the day is through
I’ll be back tonight for you

Amongst alien places and alien faces,
Where familiarity had no traces,
In the scorching sun, still feeling cold,
Falling down and having nobody to hold,
My fears untold ,I had a fake smile,
I secretly shed a tear , every once in a while,
I longed to be independent of those chains of misery,
Little did I know , that was my key to be free,
My key to step out of my cocoon,
My chance to touch the stars and the moon,
My chance to start a brand new tale,
I had no one to judge me even when I fail,
I failed and I failed but I knew I would sail,
You won't feel pleasure if you haven't seen pain,
Trust me , the struggle never goes in vain,
I met the kind of people, I didn't even know exist,
I felt good about the opportunities I hadn't missed,
I thought I had a terrible life , but I was wrong,
The struggle stays for a bit , but the pleasure period is long,
I looked back , from where I started,
From where me and my comfort parted,
And the transformation in me brought tears in my eyes,
I had finally achieved victory, the new me, was my prize ,
It was the best feeling I had ever felt ,
I went to my Mom and down I knelt,
I thanked her for sending me away,
And I thanked her again, everyday.
-Aastha Arora

It’s almost like floating
Repeating the same task each week
It is painful, waking up each day
It kind of feels like someone broke your heart, the subtle retraction of reality’s painful knife stabs you again this morning
And you let out a couple of tears before you sit up and rub your face and ask yourself again, why it is you are still here?
You are not invisible, but no one looks at you
In class you sit with a tightened chest, afraid, petrified, that is what anxiety feels like
You can’t ask for help, there is a sock in your mouth but even if you could yell, would anyone come?
Your body hates you,
It aches and starves but you just lay in bed
Nothing will change
You’ve said this is temporary for many years now I believe that this pain is permanent
No one can fix this
Isolation is like a thin film surrounding your body and mind
You know very well that human interaction is vital, but you cannot bring yourself to ask for companionship
There is a false tone of voice you switch to when your loved one asks you if you are alright, they are tired of hearing you weep.
Maybe the cold wind will wisp you away into oblivion

I never asked you to touch me.
My limbs were heavy with sleep as you moved over me,
Doing things that I wouldn’t let you do earlier, when we were awake.
My first slumber party with a college boy took a turn at 3 AM
My eyes rolling back in my head,
And I felt your hands pulling the tops of my jeans down over my legs
Sleeping, I must be sleeping, dreaming, I must be dreaming…

Did you kiss me? I don’t remember
What did you do to me?
I don’t remember. Did I say yes, no, maybe, please?
I don’t remember.

But in the morning, I was staring at the ceiling while you slept, thinking
About my friend
Whose boyfriend pushed her down onto the bed
Calling her a tease and saying that if they were going to stay together
She was going to have to fulfill all of his needs…

And my Christian friend, who saw that cute guy at a party
And all night he kept complimenting her, bringing her drinks,
Until they slipped away into one of the back rooms,
And he forced her down to the floor, on her knees.
She called me the next morning, crying
Asking if I could please go pick up something for her.
“What?”
“God, this is so embarrassing… ok… I need a Plan B”.

And now I’m thinking about my ex, who had asked
His crush over to hangout and watch some Netflix
And
He was never sure what exactly happened, but
First they were kissing, then things escalated and
She took charge of his body, his hands and
A few days later he was standing in line to get an STD test.

I remember enough, though, enough from last night to know that
We didn’t have ***.
So.
Things could always be worse, I tell myself.
Things could always be worse… I guess.

I walk into class and sit in my chair.
H. smiles, their chair spinning around to face me.
I look up at H., awkwardly smiling back.
They ask me how I am, their foot gently tapping my leg.
I take a deep breath.
The feeling of H.'s foot against my leg sends shivers all over my body.
I respond, and unpack my things.
Class goes on, H.'s foot occasionally brushing against my leg.
Accidently?
Purposely?
The professor says something vaguely stupid.
H. glances over at me and rolls their eyes, smiling.
That smile, it gets me every time.
Class comes to an end, with reality rushing towards me.
H. picks up their cell phone and laughs, texting their special someone.
Someone else.
We part ways and I sigh.
Until next lecture.
Until then, I will wait for H.
And smile at the simple thought of them.

I remember the day I came here
And I promised myself that this year will be full of hard work and pain
And all the best was all I could hear
But now that is all down the drain

I spend my days here all covered in sweat
And the nights are too much the same
And on myself I daily bet
And when I fail, myself I do blame

Free time here is yawn inducing
And the food here, tasteless
The people here are a lot confusing
The relationships are a mess.

Now I remember why all this is worth watching
'cuz, if I were at home , I would see my brothers plot hatching