there is no greater image of desperation than the dog that runs back for the bone for the twentieth time on a lonely afternoon. it returns home to its master lays down at his feet sets down the emblem of his dedication and the master laughs, accepts his gift half-heartedly sheds enough love to last until the next round and then sends the dog back to fetch. i don’t think i’m the dog— i think i’m the bone tossed around and used but still, thinking it’s nice to be needed. dropped at your feet, me, and you, for what it’s worth, take me in with one arm warm me to the touch then throw me back into cold air. the sky watches in anticipation the dog hardly notices and you, for what it’s worth, don’t notice either.
As a recent high school graduate and student in Harvard University’s class of 2025, I’ve committed myself to working on my writing throughout my gap year. My poem on gender, “blank canvases,” has been featured as an Editor’s Choice Award in Teen Ink’s magazine, and I have worked with my school’s library to host a celebration of student authors annually. I am most proud of works of literary research, notably my paper about Holocaust art, titled “How We Silence Voices of the Holocaust: Jewish Women in Art and Female Representation in Holocaust Memorials.”