chain me to the earth
​by Ella Pegan

how we dress
​by Ella Wade

Untitled
by Ella MacDonald
it hurts to float
it hurts to know the difference between up and down and still be unable to find it
it hurts to see the stars behind your eyes and the sky in your head and watch your thoughts spill out of your brain

​chains work. if i stay grounded, i stay safe.

if i ask for chains, i get mocked if i go without, i float.
if i didn’t need chains, would that mean i liked floating or i was heavy enough to get by
do you know which one you are?
then can you tell me, which one should i be?
chains hang around her neck 
strengthening her stride 
focusing her eyes 
she holds her head high

heels click while she walks
swaying side to side 
her silence is much louder 
when she’s four inches above 

leather jacket fits
loose jeans with a couple rips  
it’s crazy how we dress
can affect what others expect   

​
the chains hold me back,
wrapping around me tightly,
i try to break free

​

Chained Souls
by Rose Basu-Brown

I watched as they handcuffed you. You put on such a brave face, but I could see the fear in those brown eyes. They saw you as a melanin body, not a pure soul. They saw a prisoner, not a person. They saw ghetto, not a gift. The system put chains on communities. Being underprivileged, you are locked into where you live. Chains binding wrists, minds and hearts. Maybe one day, we will break them.  ​

She'll Be Free
​by Emily Ewing 

Don't Walk Alone
by Heidi Elder
the rusty shackles
cut deep within her pale skin.
like his crude insults,
the chains of his detailed lies
envelop her mind.
powerless she waits,
till the day her freedom comes.
she’ll be unrestrained,
his wicked power no more.
new life lies ahead, 
and she will never look back.

​
There was a girl who lived in a small rural town. While she was walking to her house one night, she was met with the shadow of a man in the street. She kept her eyes low and one of her hands twitched at her side. She was hoping that neither of them would have to start anything that night. Thankfully, she passed him without a word and he didn’t even acknowledge her presence. Once she was far enough away from him, she let out a sigh; relief flooding through her blood as her unjustified fear subsided.

But as she walked underneath the glow of the next lamppost, she heard footsteps behind her. She looked back quickly but saw nothing. She switched up her pace, just in case it wasn’t her mind playing tricks with her. The echoey footsteps sped up with her. She stopped walking completely and she was only surrounded by the crickets and cicadas. No shady men and definitely no one following her; she was just scaring herself. Still, the uneasy feeling stuck to her and persuaded her to take a different way home that night. 

see you through my eyes
​by Christwill Ogedengbe

Free Me 
by Oonagh Calkin

In Dusk
​by Maya Mohammed
​i can see it in your eyes
they don’t shine like they used to 
your beautiful smile is forced
your laugh no longer fills the room
you forgot how to love yourself 
yet you keep telling yourself that you’re okay
but i see the tears in your eyes
i see the scars you try to hide
i wish you would break the chains of insecurity holding you back
i wish you’d see the same person i do when you look in the mirror
and screw anyone who tells you you’re anything less than perfect 
you are perfection
and nobody deserves you, but you.

The finish line
​by Erin Frank

Once again, I am forced into the race
The rest of the runners charging at full speed but I’m being held back
The finish line is inches away
Until your chains drag me to the start by my ankles  
And I’ll always be reaching desperately for that damn finish line ​
You have me in chains,
But if you loosened them,
Maybe I could be free,

You don’t need me, 
So leave me then, 
I could have some space to breathe

Yell at me, go on!
Let it be a swansong
End this before I’m on my knees

Just open the door,
I can’t stand it anymore,
I’m begging you, open it, please!

You pull me, play me, 
Tell me that you hate me.
You will never be what I need

The walls are closing in,
I’m choking on this sin
I’m going to fight.
I’m going to leave.

​
 In dusk, there lies a putrid falling soul
Enrobed in hatred red as rubies shine
His words as brittle as a dried up weed
He yearns for the destruction of the world

In dusk, there lies a putrid falling soul
Complete with his eternal sadness blue
Encased in his relentless jail of lies
He yearns for the destruction of his pain

In dusk, there lies a putrid falling soul
In time, he’s lost to those who envy him
As he has envied them who came before
He yearns for the destruction of their eyes

In dusk, there lies a putrid falling soul
Alone in darkness, trapped and endlessly
He sits and tries to gather strength once more
He yearns for the destruction of the chains

In dusk, there lies a putrid fallen soul
An empty husk of what he used to be
No longer shall he try and live again
He yearns for the destruction of himself

​

Golden Chains 
​by Yasmin Nowlan

Prisoners 
by Galadriel Bond
My heart is wrapped with chains. They are paper-thin, blood-stained gold, and warm. They glow, some brighter than others, a soft light, as if they were stars. Every person I have met has given me a chain, one end wrapped around my heart, the other wrapped around theirs. One link at a time we make them stronger, brighter. These chains comfort me because though I know humans aren’t made to wander, I tend to drift. They do not stop or restrict me, but their faint glow will always lead me home when I get lost. Occasionally, in these wanderings, I will get curious, and drop down a dark hole just to see what is at the bottom. The hole may have a way back, but mostly they don’t, and mostly I don’t care. In times like these, the chains will tighten, dragging me back up, bringing me to those I hold dear, bringing me back to the light. My heart is wrapped with chains to save it, to protect it, to bring it back. I am very thankful for these chains.
​
It is said that we forge our own chains
But these days it's our corporate overlords that chains us
They make these communication devices for our needs
And others make games and services to lure us in
We get hooked
We plug in our earbuds
We physically attach ourselves to our cell phones
We get sucked into these apps designed to drag us in
Our corporate overlords engineer their products to grab our attention
And we get trapped
By chains we didn't forge
Nor did we get the chance to stop their creation
With their means we chain ourselves to our own cells

Untitled
​by Meryn Vanderhorn

Boxed In 
by Jenna Mihalchan
I would compare our friendship to a chain
But it's stronger 
Chains can rust and crack and disconnect
And while we’ve been through our storms
The links that bind us will never break

​
They have me trapped in a box of responsibility and dependency. My head caving in on my own chest and my arms twisted and glued to opposites corners. I’m incapable of breaking out of the bubble which inhibits me. 
My muscles are cramped under the pressure of authority. My eyes shine with the glisten of tears from the stress of my fears. On my face is the smile of a maniac who finds amusement in their despair and coming out of my mouth is the laughter of a sadist who finds amusement in their pain. 
Inside my brain is dread. 
Inside, my heart is dead. ​

On the Flipside
by Rebecca Kempe

We only remember the thick chains, the dark grey iron-wrought chains that are meant for padlocks, for traps, for suffocating the good in those who have made a mistake. We only remember the chains that are meant to hurt, not heal. We remember the chains that are meant to keep away, not invite. When one mentions a chain, we think of handcuff chains, gate chains, rusted padlocks wrapped around rusted iron ropes wrapped around dark, imposing fences. We think “Keep Out” signs, “Private Property Do Not Trespass,” we think law enforcement, we think danger, we think containment, we think exclusion. But it’s not the only way to look at them. Not all chains are symbols of terrible things.

Don’t forget about your thin gold plated necklace chains with charms or pendants or lockets, the necklaces you wear every day, received as gifts from partners or parents or friends or purchased for yourselves. Don’t forget about well-worn charm bracelets, with a new charm given to represent a person or an occasion or as a birthday gift or just because. Don’t forget earring tassels and Christmas ornaments, don’t forget about the time and the care and the joy that went into fashioning each object. Don’t forget about the huge variety in the types and styles of chains. Sick of grey? There’s copper, silver, gold, even purple.
​
Look on the bright side.



​Sinking 
​by Hannah Gallant



​Everything connects 
​by Emma Ulvr



​Restrained 
​by Kate-Lynn McGowan
Chained to my pencil 
Writing thoughts I didn’t even know that I had
Weighted words 
Sinking me to the bottom of my own headspace




​In my bedroom
by Cassidy Hartmann

I sit in my bedroom
Chained to the wall
I think about school
And a trip to the mall

I stand in my bedroom
The chain won’t undo
My head is bright red
My body’s dark blue

I scream in my bedroom
I struggle and thrust
The chain is still strong
And my hands start to rust

I lay in my bedroom
I don’t mind the chain
I’m staining the sheets
And there’s blue in my brain



​Chained Wings
By Nic Pinnock

Chains
Shackles
Stolen wings
Captive Talent
Lost Inspiration
Abandoned by my muse
Without the Freedom to fly

Creativity is fleeting
And the gift of Life along with it
Many pass through their days without Thought
Expecting joy to spring from Nothing

Life is painfully complex
Demanding due respect
It is not to be toyed with
The Key to Freedom
Is unchaining the mind
And freeing the soul
Everything is connected to everything
Is something my grandfather used to say
We are connected to each other
Through blood
Through love
Through words
We are connected to the world
To the earth
To everything on it
We all breathe the same air
We all walk the same ground
We all drink the same water
We may not all speak the same language
We may not all look alike
But we are all connected
Links on a chain
Pulling in different directions
Pulling towards different goals
But ultimately intertwined
Just trying to live
Everything is connected to everything
Everyone is connected to everyone
Chained together in one way or another
Never to pull apart



​

​Chains
​By Brynn Duggan

Handcuff ourselves to unachievable goals and ideals Thrash around, feel the rusted metal
Cut our skin
And let it happen because of the admittance
Of failure
Failure to achieve what once seemed so simple
Failure to be good enough in our eyes
After a while we
Let the chains restrain us
From achieving because we’ve given up before trying again for fear of failing Again.
Just remember
Hope
Hope is key.
The key that will unlock the handcuffs
And set us free
Take a deep breath,
Break the chain
The metal shriek of chains scraping on chains
My arms are being pulled in opposite directions

“Please, don’t do this!” I beg, crying out in fear

I stumble on rough grey stone as the elongated shadows on the wall drag me forward

“You don’t have a choice,” I hear voices in the dark room
I’m not alone with the shadows
There’s someone else

One of the shadows’ hands reach forward and turn a doorknob
They open a door and push me through
Right into the blinding light
Facing reality
That the shadows aren’t there

The darkness can play tricks on one’s mind
Twist it into a nightmare

But this is my imagination
That binds me to the evil of my thoughts
That turns them into a story of darkness, despair, and misery

Only I know the truth of my mind’s deepest fear;
That I will forever be outnumbered by the force of my imagination
That I will always be restrained
By the chains of my thoughts.

​

Untitled 
​By Harjan Sidhu

I’ll never forget the way you would pick at ur neck with 3 fingers when u were nervous
Staring into a void
You’d sit there Silently wondering about things unknown to anyone but you
Twisting and turning the 5 chains you wore on your neck
With your lips slightly parted
You always had a pen in your hand yet I had never seen you writing
For 3 years i sat 10 feet away from you
Every morning for three years waiting for the perfect moment to approach you
In the end I guess I waited too long
For it has been a year, 365 days, 8,760 hours, and 525,600 minutes
Since our last encounter

Loiter
by Lillian Johnson

Let me out of this town!
The children all cry,
Because where we grow up is a curse.

Same places, Same people
Same grey tinge that's almost peaceful.
A comfortable existence, a half-assed sequel.

But peace is boring and we crave something more.
Something vivid, something sensational, something to live for.

Just get a good job and escape is clear.
Just a little more money and I’ll get out of here.
But it's funny how the dingy grass becomes a home.
And the mud we trek through daily becomes encrusted in 
something much deeper than our boots.

Familiarity, Holds us like chains. 

And the children grew up like stories never written,
Living life on half empty.
But who cares?
For the rub of time wears.
And they don't really wish to live.

Its emptiness their hollow bones crave,
Because a life lived empty;
Microwave dinners, game shows, 9 to 5 jobs,
Is one without pain.
Painless life is lifeless pain.
Like living neutral days could ever be what we had in mind for ourselves.


​

A Chain of Chains
By Thomas Starzomski

Rosemary: Queen of Umbrel
By Logan Webster

    Fanfare flooded the throne room. Ornate purple and yellow banners cascaded from the indoor balconies above. Granite pillars, white as a dove’s cloak stood every ten feet were tethered together with regal red drapes. Throngs of commoners crowded the hall. A minister in flowing alabaster robes stood crooked in age at the altar at the end of the hall. The murals on the ceiling reflected rainbow light from the candelabras suspended from the balconies. My coronation couldn’t have been more perfect. No less than I deserved of course. Nothing but the best for the one and only, Rosemary: Queen to be of Umbrel! 
      Walking up the minister, I was the only person in the world that mattered. I had a crown worth millions. Twenty servants held up my train. At my command, knights would throw themselves on their swords. My nail clippings were worth more than the common farmer’s life! The best part was that I hadn’t even peaked yet! Queenly majesty is so much better than the princess kind. It’s even worth watching your parents succumb to gangrene and receiving a letter that your brothers weren’t coming back from the war. Oh yes, I was the center of attention. 

Chainmail
By Rowen Schofield

“If you don't send a copy of this letter to 100 people by midnight tonight, you will be struck down by a deadly curse.”

    Three men stood in a room around a table upon which the letter rested. They were three great knights, the king’s finest. And they were under the threat of death from this letter, sent to them by an unknown source.
    “We cannot just let this happen, we must find whoever wrote this and wipe them off the face of this earth!” Said the first knight, angry and ready for battle.
    “No Brandyn, we will not be able to find them by midnight, we must go through with what this letter demands.” The knight saying this was not mad, he sighed slowly and sat down in his chair, “I do not like the prospect of cursing others for our own sake but this is something that is necessary.”


​Ring of Gold 
​By Tara Fitzgerald

I've lost something recently,
A peculiar thing.
And though it was a brilliant gold in colour,
The dark meanings behind it were unmistakable.
I received it through someone I used to know,
A friend of sorts, but she never cared about me.
Not really.
In her eyes,
Just like everyone else's,
I was the second choice.
When we finally parted ways she gave a part of herself to her "friends",
A final gift, one might say.
Like even though we would never meet again,
She wanted to always have power over us,
Give us one tiny piece of herself so that we could never truly be free.
Chained to her,
To the memories of pain and anguish that she caused.
And though the chains were but a tiny singular golden ring,
It was heavy.
I carried it around,
Wearing it like a burden.
Yet for some reason,
A burden I wanted to carry.
She was a terrible person,
But when she did so much as talk to you,
You felt like the most important person in the world.
She could do that to you,
Make you feel special.
That way she would never lose you.
So that you would forever remain her prisoner,
Bound by her chains of false friendship.
But recently the final chain that she still had wrapped around me vanished,
Lost to the halls of my new home.
I found it strange,
It was almost like I was meant to lose it here,
In my place of salvation.
The last thing binding me to that awful, dark place,
Forever lost, in one of the most light-filled areas I've ever been in.
At first I was sad to have to let it go,
But I soon realized that now I can finally go free.
I have broken your chains, all of them.

The Chase
By: Charlotte Rasmussen

All I hear are the rattling of the chains. I run, the stars in the sky being my only source of light. Branches and thorns catch on my clothes, shredding them to pieces. My left foot gets caught in a lone rabbit’s hole, and I fall. I feel my wrist bend too far in the wrong direction and it snaps. Pain courses through me. The rattling of the chains gets closer, and I can hear the slow, dragging footsteps of my pursuer approaching. I force myself to stand, though my wrist hangs and my ankle throbs. I half run half limp through the forest, colliding with what feels like every possible branch. Finally, I see a light swaying in the distance. I run, but never seem to be getting any closer. I can still hear the heavy breathing of my follower behind me. The light ahead of me, my only hope is slowly fading away. As the light disappears, a dark cloud covers the bright stars and I’m swallowed by the night. I fall again, this time tripping over a tree root, and I feel all will to live seep out of me. My eyes start to close, and my ears are filled with the sound of the chains.


​School system redesigned, people in power replaced
By Lucas Zylstra

You chain us to these desks, make us learn, when truthfully you can hardly apply any of these so called lessons to reality,
You have all the power we don’t even get a say, seems a lot like a prison to me,
You say our phones are the problem but I don’t think our phones are the reason the teachers are striking, 
You claim your system isn’t corrupted as you take money of the innocent backs of students and weigh us down, 
In your textbooks you preach the importance of equity meanwhile you're cutting autism funds, 
You claim it’s an equal playing field despite the fact that the rich kids find themselves in private schools with class sizes half the size of the poor inner city kid
You pull the wool over our eyes and claim you care about us and have our best interests at heart as you trap us in these so called classrooms and pull the funding that we desperately need and double our class sizes,
But no longer will we stand for this, people have woken up and we have broken out of cell and chains that is your so-called education system.

​

Titled Piece 
​By Alecia Winchester

​ I choke and gag and spit on the metal you're shoving down my throat. It cuts my tongue and the lining in my digestive system, tearing me apart from the inside. You take another handful and cram it down, but I'll be fine because everyone eats metal. Eating metal is normal. I cough up blood and you scold me for improper manners at the dinner table, so I wipe the red streaks off my chin with my napkin.

"Do you like it?"

"Yes," I say, but it sounds more like 'yeth' because my tongue is starting to swell.

Maybe I can't eat metal like everyone else. No one else is coughing up blood or struggling to breathe through the swollen lining in their throat. Come to think of it, I've never even seen anyone hesitate to eat their metal, so I must be crazy.

The only reason I ask, "May I please be excused?" is because when I get to the bathroom I have spit out pounds of metal. I don't know how regular people can stomach this stuff.

As I bleed on the bathroom floor, I hope I die there. I was never meant to eat metal like everyone else, but no one cares so I might as well doe to show everyone how serious it is. Instead, I stop bleeding eventually and stand up. I clean myself up again and continue with my life because I need to do that three times a day for the rest of my life.