Georgia Kean

the wind howls

who does it long for,

i wonder

the sun sets

who does it bow down to,

i wonder

i am alone here

styrofoam cup

and pristiq 125

milligrams dissolving

in said cup

i wonder who the walls long for

everything is smiling

like that one​ Simpsons episode​

i wonder who Lisa longs for i am artichoking on my coconut water

i hear voices i hear voices

but are they real are they real

repetitivity is the key to something i just don’t know

what am i doing here

what an odd poem, you say, i wonder what it means to end

what does anything mean

(existential crisis mode activated)

philosophy was never my strong suit for i ask questions none can answer me! what does

anything mean!

alas before i can respond the meds wear off i am no longer high and the world comes to

an end one world at a time

and sometimes things simply mean nothing and you are trying to squeeze juice from

toaster. dumbass.

everything is floating

i am very





it’s been so long

since he touched me

i forgot what

his breath

tastes like

oops i’m

being weird again

let me go powder my-

pockets are leaking breadsticks and spaghetti sauce and poetry is God speaking to me he


you’re worthless look at it macrocosmically or something

the waiter is hot, huh?

Weatherall Crump-Kean is a sophomore currently attending the University of Texas at Austin High School. Her first book, artificial affection, was recently published and she is looking to revive the poetry genre with her collections.