Just stop

Caroline Ho
Assistant Editor

Dear snow

Won't you please go away

It’s cold

I find this not okay

I'm told

The winter's nearly done
Behold—

This snow’s once more begun
This chill

Saps out all sense of fun
Until

This city’s overrun

Streets fill

With piles of greyish muck
And still

Our buses get more stuck

Oh jeez

This season so does suck

Id kill

To migrate like a duck

Come, please

Much-needed weather-luck
Don’t tease

Me with false springtime hope
I'll freeze

This cold I cannot cope

Don't drop

More cold, wet, white stuff, nope
Please stop

With all this fucking snow.

 

Absence

Kshitij Verma
Contributor

My sorrows have been “nothing”

my happiness has been “nothing”

“nothing” may seem blank, empty

but I see that even things which seem blank are something.

“Nothing” is like silence

it can be deafening and

leaves me in a place with myself, alone.
To be “nothing”

When I feel nothing, I get overwhelmed,

seeing everything coming all at once.

I feel burdened by the weights that weigh nothing
though, when asked, I reply with, “nothing”

I might feel blank, but don’t even canvases seem blank at first
some days, in the empty pages, I still search
because emptiness pokes after a while

When I feel nothing inside, I see the things outside and try filling the void.
But lately I have stopped looking outside as the things outside
seem emptier than me.