self therapy, it’s cheaper too.
It has become a struggle to get dressed
in the morning without hating yourself.
In the mirror, you see a sack of fruit,
a loveseat dragged to the curb. You know
this is not true. You know this is plight
of those with mirrors and cloth and legs—
yet, still, you do not want to leave
College Students Organize Walk to Complete Boston Marathon
In a moving display of solidarity for the 5,742 Boston Marathon participants who did not reach the finish line on Monday, Boston College students have organized a walk from the university to downtown Boston this Friday. As of Wednesday morning, more than 16,000 Facebook users have RSVP’d on the event page, which boldly proclaims “we will walk to show that we decide when our marathon ends.”
This is beautiful. #bostonmarathonSource: Mashable
The Genius Goes to the Barber
He was planning on growing his beard all summer.
He was planning on taking a bus to the Redwoods
and getting I Am So Small tattooed across his chest
in Gothic font like a banner or a For Sale sign,
but his beard started catching things. At first,
it was just your typical crumbs, dribbles of soup.
One day, he woke up and found an entire angel
food cake entangled in his whiskers while
brushing his teeth. Then, darker things began
finding their home closer and closer to his mouth.
A nasty word someone called the garbage man.
The look a mother gave her child for spilling his juice.
A nightmare in which his entire life was a sitcom
and he kept forgetting his lines and the laugh track
kept rolling and rolling. It all clung to his chin
like icicles. They became so heavy,
he had no choice but to use them.
He didn’t tip the server. He stopped cleaning
his fish tank. It wasn’t until he found himself
screaming at a senior citizen WHY DON’T YOU
JUST HURRY UP AND DIE, YOU OLD WH—
when the barber rushed him into the shop, forced him
into the chair. We only carry what we think we need,
he said as he turned on the razor.
Poem by Sierra DeMulder
Tattoo by David Boysno
Badass Leg Grown by Kayla Newberg
Don’t worry. The acne will go away, sort of.
You will stop fighting with your sisters when they go
to college. This will be because of two things: your inability
to steal their clothing and the realization
that they are older, cooler versions of you. Your bully
will end up shaving her head and going to jail
or she will become a lawyer and have a nice car
and six babies. You will have no idea. You will forget
what she looks like, remember her the way
one remembers a splinter. You will stop
loving sharp things. You will learn how to make
your bed without being forced or threatened.
You will break up with your high school
sweetheart. I know, this is a surprise
but trust me. It is the right thing.
Yes, he loves you but it is a smothering love,
the way a dog nurses an open wound, all bared teeth
and tongues. When you leave him,
it will not feel like crushing a light bulb
in your hand — more like slowly, so slowly,
removing glass from inside your palm.
For years after him, you will let your heart
hang open like a soup kitchen. This is not
a bad thing, more a lesson in proportions.
After graduation, you will change a hundred
times over, like a revolving door, a waterfall.
One day, you will learn how to give
and receive love like an open window
and it will feel like summer every day.
One day, everything will make sense.