Like spring, he blooms The world bathes in his light He fills the room with carnations as he skips through the adoring crowd What a colorful, beautiful season he is Moves swiftly and gracefully To melt away the memories of cold days past. Like winter, I wither Tears turn to icicles as they run down my cheek My touch reeks of death, no matter how gentle Constellations are my gift, for which I must dim my nights dark

For this assignment, I made a video that shows the contrast between classes in New York City. I have been wanting to move here for as long as I can remember, to work in fashion and achieve my dreams. …

If I could choose how I died, I’d die on 5th Avenue. Draped in fur, outside of Saks, I’d slip and fall with my Manolos (Living the Bradshaw dream) I reach out for my Dolces as they fly away, We hit the pavement together. How they break as strangers step…

Prompt: In thinking about the distribution of the social product in today’s economies, is it sufficient to consider only the division of income between wages and profits, or are there other social factors and realities that are relevant? Unfortunately, as it is human nature, our economics systems by design are…

“Have you heard of it? It is insane! Everyone is raving about it! Unlike anything that has ever existed. It’s where the old one by the avenue used to be…what was its name? I can’t recall. Anyways, this girl I follow on Instagram went to the soft opening, you know…

Te aferras a mi con desesperación Como si tan solo un centímetro de distancia entre los dos fuera tan vasto como el Atlántico. Me abrazas tan fuerte que parece que compartiéramos un corazón Pero hay una contradicción en ti Y una incertidumbre en mi Que hace imposible descifrar si verdaderamente…

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust In the digital age, Could any of us be ever really gone? One day, we will be. (From this realm) Back to the dust we once belonged But online? None the wiser. There, we belong to the pixels That once, were us. Ashes to…

I have the words, I have the words I have them on the tip of my tongue Right on the edge, They threaten to jump I have the words, I have the words I have them in the back of my head Running, jumping, taunting Daring me to scream I have the words, I have the words I have them on my fingertips Waltzing with a pen on a ballroom of paper Steps get lost in the tempo, as lilly white turns crimson I have the words, I have the words

RED —the room they swore their first forever. A last glass of wine. ORANGE —what could’ve been. Sweet summer citrus, The taste of each kiss. YELLOW —gold drowns in cinammon As the ears meet a heartbeat; Dawn turns to dusk. GREEN —a guitar. Co-author of their melodies Their days /…