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- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
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- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
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- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
You are baking concrete in the sun
And cherry-tinted, sun kissed cheeks.
You are a flat, stuffy air mattress
And stars like smiling eyes in a black burned sky.
You are long anticipated phone conversations
And the whispered prayers of a tiny voice.
You’re a stone handkerchief
Soaking up countless tears
And the constant whirring of motorcycles
Floating up like clouds to my ears.
You’re the never same view
Of a ballerina pink sunset
And no barrier
Between me and the night sky.
You’re the hard ground on my back
When I lay down.
You’re pineapple slushies
And the enticing smell of lamb
Drifting out the windows from the houses all around.
You’re a foot
Stepped outside two sliding glass doors
And a cold charcoal railing
To hold back a fall.
You’re the best view in the neighborhood,
Like a bird’s vision as he sweeps across the sky.
You’re the dandelion yellow summer sun
And the mint bite of an icy wind.
You’re a dying cactus sitting in the corner
And a patio table and chairs.
You’re dinner guests watching the horizon,
Paranoid mothers beckoning children away from the edge
And a concerned father watching his daughter cry.
You’re my rooftop.