Neon Leviathan

“how you love yourself is how you teach others to love you”                                                  ― Rupi Kaur, Milk and Honey   I’m pretty sure I turned eighteen recently since the last troll attack; I’ve lost track of time. And the days have seemed longer than usual traveling by myself for this long. All I remember from recent days is a lot of running, carnage, and sweat. To be fair, I expected my senior year of high school to be the most exciting but didn’t have “the world ends with magic-wielding trolls attacking humanity” on my bingo card of what things would happen to me. Just my luck as always, I suppose.             What I do remember from the last attack is Sebastian yelling for me to keep going and throwing me a handgun and his pack. (As it turns out, they may be magical trolls, but they are still very much able to get hurt and killed by very human weapons). We had set up camp for a couple of days since Los Angeles fell to a fissure opening and swallowing most

O powerful western orb of orange menace, How you proceed to and fro on this day of much sorrow?   Have the pangs of the bullet casings against the ground, amongst The torn sinew, within our thoughts, through bone, life, Death, roused you and yours from sleep?   Our prayers are with you and your family.   O mightiest western hand of orange menace, The work you invest in safeguarding you and yours, Us and ours, theirs, you and yours truly, is not Overlooked; we see your hard work, it is Transparent, so clear, such void Of errors, all refutations must be fake; how you suffer; Our prayers are with you and your family.   I loved well the people felled by the pangs of bullets, I loved well the idea of them living tomorrow too; O I loved well the safety I am afforded by your hard work, I loved well I loved I know well. I know these ruminations share a hearth in your orange menace, As they do in our universal sigh; Surely, for if it were othe

                           Ever elusive and fleeting to many, love can be a rather difficult emotion, experience, journey, or four-letter word to concretely define. Whatever type of love one is speaking about, it becomes increasingly more difficult to express love once someone else is on the receiving end of its meaning. Raymond Carver attempts to inch people closer to a definition of love in “What We Talk About When We Talk About Love,” a short story involving two couples, and their conversation on what they believe love means. Two couples debate and share stories about the type of love they believe to be the true representation of love. Even if it contradicts their current love for their significant other, each person is steadfast in their belief. The conflict the characters engage in reveals the true nature of their relationships, and their point of view seems to waver in the end. Each character has their own idea of what is a true representation of love and it develops and changes