By Russ Bickerstaff -- Time certainly seemed to be running out. But I didn't necessarily know why. I mean, I knew that time was progressing forward minute by minute. I mean, I knew that. That always happens. Be kind of weird if it didn't. But there was something about it. That seemed kind of strange. I mean, it seemed to be running out. Not that it was progressing forward in a linear fashion. But it was progressing forward to a conclusion. A resolution. And ending. And that

By Yutzil Virgen -- Inside me, a fire burns– shadows whisper vengeance, fists of anger clenched around what once was sweet. My heart hides itself behind walls I built from fear, searching the echoes for the reflection of who I used to be. Once I was a warm river, a light that embraced, hands open to forgiveness, a voice that quieted storms. Now I walk among ruins, bitter like forgotten fruit, and I cry out to the heavens: “Do not let me fall.” I am the daughter of an eternal

By Yutzil Virgen -- I walk with both hands full– one cradling a flame, the other gripping darkness. The fire burns, a fragile warmth against the wind, reminding me I am still alive. The shadow pulls, a heavy tether to everything I've lost. I am both the lantern and the eclipse, both the hope and the wound. To love me is to hold both– the light I offer, the shadows I hide. And still, I keep walking with both hands full.