Posted in 2017-2018

A Letter From Our Chief Editors

Hello everybody! We were nominated to take over Post Script, a magazine that has been up and running for three years now. We have both been published writers, section editors, and now, we are co-editors-in-Chief. It is so amazing how far we have come as people, as a magazine, and as a community. We can’t wait to head start this year!

There will be a few changes to the magazine in the upcoming issues. We have chosen four sections for our writers to write for: fiction, nonfiction, poetry, and a What’s Happening tab. We have also opened up our magazine to Barbara Ingram School For The Arts as a whole instead of solely the writing department. The biggest change, however, is that we will be uploading content as fast as our writers can churn it out. There will not be four issues throughout the year, but rather smaller ones each time our editors get their writers’ pieces to us.

For our Barbara Ingram audience–if anyone is even slightly interested in participating, please ask us about joining our team! Another thing that the two of us will be implementing this year is a stronger sense of community. In order to achieve this, we will no longer be assigning editors based on genre, but on commonalities and complementing characteristics for effective teamwork. We believe this will permit the writers and editors to grow together in comfort, method, and communication, creating the most efficient work environment that we are capable of attaining. Additionally, we will be hosting community-building get-togethers after each round of publications for everyone involved! Post Script exists to serve as a platform where we can share our stories as BISFA students and as human beings. We are all part of each others’ human experiences, so why not have the most fun and rewarding human experience possible?

We are so excited for all of the amazing things we will accomplish this year, and we thank you for coming on this journey with us!

With love,

Maddie Lynn and Amelia Lowry

Posted in 2016-2017, Issue #03, Non-Fiction

I Cannot Explain the Things I Fall in Love With

After A. Papatya Bucak’s “I Cannot Explain My Fear”

By Maddie Lynn

I am in love with everything I see. Dancing daffodils, daisies, dandelions that we make wishes on under the summer sun. Fireflies, mason jars, sidewalks that have been turned rainbow by gritty chalk and tiny fingers. Words, books, the way alliteration sounds as it slips out of parted lips.

I am in love with everything I see. Folded shirts, bright new shoes, packed suitcases sitting by open front doors, waiting to go on adventures. Open bags, cute mugs, travel-sized shampoo bottles from every hotel room. I am in love with the bright colors of horizons, and recyclable water tins, and big dinners with a mix-and-match family that was always too large to fit at the dinner table. Empty bottles of lotion, smooth skin, a hand to hold as we walk together, toes in the sand.

I am in love with everything I see. Soft features, marble eyes, a smile that only shows once in awhile, when ocean lines and late night chatter make him giggle. Oversized t-shirts, strong cologne, calluses on long slender fingers. Ripped jeans, dimples, freckles dusting his nose, when the sunlight hits it just right, to make a constellation. Stars, galaxies, the possibility of worlds colliding in outer space. Illumination, the way that vowels drag on, a simple metaphor. A writer’s heart learns to love these things over and over and over again.

The way clothing falls over coat hangers, and sweaters drape over cold shoulders.

How riding a bike is something you’ll never forget, and how my sister had to teach me because my father wasn’t there.

How sunlight feels on bare skin, and the way fireflies sound
tapping inside mason jars.

The way that teardrops are the perfect shape, and how mascara runs in perfect lines.

Big bellies and big hearts.

I am in love with everything I see. The color black, simplicity, the crinkling sound plastic makes. Keys on a keyboard, smooth pens, the way that nothing rhymes with purple or orange so they stand alone together. Sunglasses, melted chocolate, fresh fruit. Roses. Raindrops. Rhythm.

I am in love with the lack of religion. The lack of a string pulling us all together. The lack of control, rigidity, stiffness.

I am in love with freedom. Dancing. Movement. The way that water flows from river to river, stream to steam.

I am in love with the way we all flow together. People with a similar belief. I am in love with the way we fight together, fall together.

I am in love with democracy.

My love is every single inch of me. Every makeshift corner, under every layer of skin. I cannot explain my love, because I can not explain myself in my entirety.

I am love with being in love.

Posted in 2016-2017, Issue #03, Poetry


By Maddie Lynn

  1. There is a girl trapped in a moon.
  2. A cat meows at 11:59 every night.
  3. There are rocks in my shoe.
  4. The rain bounces off the tin roof (and)
  5. She can’t hear the arguments.
  6. Always look for the brightest star.
  7. Her name is Pluto.
  8. We all believe in ourselves, even if just a little.
  9. Angles don’t have wings.
  10. Nothing ever makes sense.
  11. This paper airplane has a message inside.
  12. This is not true beauty.
  13. She is stuck in the middle.
  14. I don’t have a good side.
  15. Everyone has a reason to stay.
  16. Love is spelled C-A-U-T-I-O-N.
  17. There are no warning signs.
  18. Water is not transparent.
  19. Neither is she.
  20. Owls always ask why.
  21. Days are longer when spent outside.
  22. Hospital bills are way too much for a poor family.
  23. My pockets have holes in them.
  24. Penguins are afraid of the dark.
  25. Brownie batter bubble gum.
  26. Time moves on.
  27. The bananas are brown again.
  28. We need to go to the store.
  29. Some plants need more water than others.
  30. I want to grow.
  31. You never grow out of childhood.
  32. The people in this poem are all imaginary.
  33. These angels are complementary.
  34. The clock is stuck at 3:15.
  35. The homeless poet has a home.
  36. Flowers don’t need food.
  37. She is wearing a fishing hook for an earring.
  38. Everything is accidental.
  39. Everything is theoretical so the people you don’t want to exist don’t have to.
  40. The moon is flat, and we are living on top of it.
  41. Grab a jacket.
  42. The answer.
  43. My mouth is a zipper.
  44. Baby it’s cold outside.
  45. And it is full of marbles.
  46. Her mouth. His lips.
  47. You are made of glass.
  48. You are an owl.
  49. You ask yourself so many questions (and)
  50. Go to number 42.
  51. Maybe the people in this poem are real after all.
  52. We all play Kristen Bell.
  53. Our lives are just living in fiction.
  54. My roots are overgrown.
  55. The 14th floor is the 13th if there isn’t a 13th.
  56. You can’t avoid bad luck.
  57. I put dominos in my tea.
  58. Always chew on dice.
  59. The sky has cracked down the middle.
  60. She lays down on her bedroom floor.
  61. C h em i cal s.
  62. This water doesn’t work anymore.  
  63. Organs don’t have keys.
  64. I don’t know what my zipcode is.
  65. The Queen bee refuses to make honey anymore.
  66. She kamikazies into a car window.
  67. We’re all going to die someday.
  68. Slurpee slipping through a straw.
  69. She’s finally in adult sizes at Target.
  70. Dying young has comfort in it.
  71. Virgo. Virg. Virgi. Virgin.
  72. I am both, and maybe you didn’t need to know.
  73. The glass pyramid is not the glass castle.
  74. We can never achieve perfection.
  75. I ask myself how they ended up together.
  76. Nothing is impossible.
  77. I’ve been told conspiracies don’t exist, but I believe.
  78. Everything is everything, but nothing all at once.
  79. Nothing has meaning until you assign it.
  80. I gave a boy meaning, but he didn’t caution me back.
  81. Constellations remind me of how many sprinkles can fit into a bowl of vanilla ice cream.
  82. Eating lettuce won’t help you lose weight.
  83. I know too much about the L Word.
  84. There are always 13 sides to every story.
  85. The rain forest will be the only place to find trees.
  86. I’ve never learned how to read
  87. people.
  88. I change the lyrics in songs to fit how the moon feels.
  89. This poem can only last so long.
  90. Mayflies, bye.
  91. The worst things in life are the most expensive.
  92. Wikihow doesn’t have an article for How to Pay For a Funeral When You Don’t Have the Money.
  93. You have to move quickly.
  94. Maybe the sky has 42s.
  95. I overthink everything that happens to fall in my path; maybe he just doesn’t like looking at the stars.
  96. He always brings beer in opaque bottles, but doesn’t think we know what he’s doing.
    96.5. Even at the hospital where she was born.
  97. This was the first time he’s ever held a baby, even after having two kids of his own.
  98. Water has memory, but does it remember?
  99. I’ve written about you so many times, that my pen automatically begins to cry.
  100. This world is just a big crater, and I don’t know how to fix it.
  101. Everything always has to be a little extra.
  102. This is the end of the phone call where I say goodbye.
  103. You are at the prime of your life.