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her eyes flutter shut

she sleeps like the dead

her dreams become nightmares,

she lives in her head.

a moment has passed

outside of her dream,

but a mere second is years

in her mystic extreme.

all the while she lies

convulsing in fear

for outside her subconscious

a monster is near.

but she can do nothing—

she’s trapped in this prison,

she cannot wake up—

for her monster has risen.

the monster’s eyes twinkle,

leaning back on his throne,

no one can save her—

for the dead sleep alone.

Sarah Uhlman is a junior at Pennsbury High School who likes art, traveling, and watching the X-Files with her family. She’s a Hufflepuff and her favorite Broadway musical is Phantom of the Opera.

I want to cover my cities in magazine
and floral applique. Plaster all the concrete
vineyards with paths or tear in typing.
I want billboards showing pocket watches and
telling all the mountains that time is up.
Tick tick to the terror house of street men
and buggers we always formed, and
never wanted. I know of a boy who sleeps
in this city. He wants to live in a box with
baseball cards and blue. A warm city sound and roads making anew.
When skies have fun and cities sleep,
you know it mustn’t end. You glue on paper
stars to paper cars and polish crowns.
Bakeries rolling dough and pastries handmade.
Recipes to fill your stomach ease with chug
after chug after chug. Typewriters in our
pocket hands and hopeful of what is to come.
Around and sound a string bulb blanket
covers a city with narrow
curves. Girls and more in streets adore a city
finally
Fulfilled.

Kristine Kearns is a 16 year old aspiring poet at Souderton High School. Kristine publishes her poetry on her personal blog, kristinekearns.blogspot.com, where she also expresses her creativity in fashion, beauty, and baking. Kearns also runs cross-country and track and is in love with running, as well as English, poetry in particular

She, by no means, had ever thought that she needed a man to save her,
She never really thought she needed anyone.
She would climb the tallest trees to reach her aspirations,
Never expecting a safety net woven by anyone’s hands but her own.

She had curated an image of the person she desired to be,
A story she needed to write for herself,
Not borrow from someone else’s shelf.
Pen strokes of fierce independence,
Call her an enigma, if you will.

However, shallow breaths took place of the light she desired to breathe into a room,
Slight stumbles found their way into her elongated strides.
An insecurity lingers.
When all that a person aspires to convey,
Seems to contradict the soil in which she grows.

She had longed to be something big,
While being confined to spaces that only accepted small.
Small actions.
Small thoughts.
Small minds.

She grew sick of wearing shackles of alienation,
While being surrounded by others who were content with complacence.
She instead decided she would don armor of formulated thoughts and cohesive principles,
Rather than toxicity and disregarded privilege.

She had realized that the only person who could build a ladder to her future was herself.
The only person who could see her ambitions to fruition was herself. It was her,
And only her.

My name is Kaitlyn McCormick and I am a junior at West Deptford High School. I live with my parents, my twin brother, and pets. I enjoy singing and participating in my school’s color guard. I am very ambitious and believe in staying true to yourself.