
Good Enough for Me
An apology. All I really wanted was an apology, any sort of acknowledgement that you see what you did wrong to me.

Howl
you think I’m on my knees but I am not on my knees every step is preparation muscles slowly locking into place beneath bruised skin

Walk Proudly and Carry a Big Lathi
What do you do when you’re trying to take a nice, peaceful walk around town when you see some guy beating his girl in the middle of the street? Let’s face it, some of us would walk on past and others would give him quite a mouthful. Well, then-53-year-old Indian woman Sampat Pal Devi...

i wear my mother’s sadness like a wedding dress
silverware clinks and this is the language of our conversation. you are angrier today, fork drawing scars across your plate. i am breathing quietly.

Defective Magical Girl: Channeling “Shortcomings” Like Usagi Tsukino
There is nothing more ironic than a magical girl without great powers. Imagine if Sailor Moon never met Luna and never realized her true identity as a Moon Princess.

Boogey Man
When I was a child, I used to lie through my teeth; Make up all these fanciful stories About who I was, Where I’d been,

General Relativity of a Female Scientist
When you flip through a textbook, there are many of the same faces; black and white stills of old white men discovering some boring concept. In science, it’s almost exclusively white men

The Powerful Voice of Street Art
Perhaps distasteful depictions of profanity have slandered its image, but street art at its core is the purest form of nonconformity and expression.

Illusions
My entire life is an illusion. It has always been an illusion. I’ve never been quite right, I’ve never been honest with a single other person. I know I’m young (I’m only 18) but I honestly cannot even begin to imagine a future in which I’ll be out and happy. The future seems so abstract...

Our Story: A Tale of Beach Glass and Spilled Milk
There was a slight wind on the dock. It ripped at the lake water and tousled the tall grass surrounding the beach in small waves. Each stem flickered back and forth, like an uneasy light that had been exercised for many years.

FAT: A Saga
A few days ago: I’m working in class with a friend, and two of her friends—who I’ll call Friend 1 and Friend 2—are having an especially loud conversation near us.

The Politics of Preening
I wear makeup almost every day. When I was in middle school, makeup was a way for me to express myself. Frequently, I would experiment with weird eyeshadow colors and graphic eyeliner. It was fun to me. Now, I tend to default to more neutral, understated colors.