top of page

Monday Morning Tea Leaves

Artwork by Tina Lin, staff artist

Molly Green went to sleep early. Kind of wishes she was still tired. Sips green tea. Cocoons the mug. Lets it burn her palms.

Molly Green is a Monday morning person. Loves sunlight. Despises daytime. Still hides behind blackout curtains, pretending to be a vampire. Googles how to sharpen your teeth.

Molly Green is sometimes Molly A. Green. A for “asks too many questions.” Molly Green has too many books. Thinks never enough. Has started stacking them on standing ones she’ll start but never finish. Molly Green reads slowly. Reads into things quickly. Molly Green feels lonely. Hasn’t pinned something to her cork board; hasn’t looked through a telescope; hasn’t skipped stones the wrong way in a while.

Molly Green dresses up just for a walk. Practices waving hello to strangers. Molly Green scratches the backs of her hands. Thought eczema went away in warmer weather. Thought wrong. Forgets about gloves in a sink of dishes. Molly Green likes a clean floor and messy desk. Wants the walls to know she works here.

Molly Green is on her second green tea. Tastes crick water or bare feet on dewy grass. Tastes good health or 100% humidity. Molly Green likes the steam that fogs her glasses. Molly Green hates how her handwriting isn’t conventionally attractive. Takes notes with someone else’s wrist. Molly Green can’t focus because she wonders if she smells good. If her voice spills out too high or too low. If perfect posture is even worth it. Molly Green is afraid to spit. Molly Green draws sharpie stars on her knuckles. Watches them expand into constellations when she makes a fist.

Molly Green wishes she could throw temper tantrums. Cusses under her breath. Flips the bird from bicycle handlebars. Flicks a pocket lighter; plays with fire.

Molly Green still has manners. Says sorry more than she means it. Could never say thank you enough. Molly Green doesn’t escape when she meditates. Inhales longer than she exhales. Keeps her glasses on. Picks at the dead skin of her ankles.

Molly Green just wants a dog to eat her homework. Has a cat who sleeps too much, who wants to hunt your ponytail and broken nails. Molly Green likes the word juxtaposition. Likes rounding to the nearest tenth. To the nearest hour. Thinks it makes her sound smart.

Molly Green only wants to go through the motions. Just for one day. Overthinks by trying not to overthink. Molly Green all but screams—into a mug that’s half empty.


Molly A. Green is a sophomore at Lincoln Park Performing Arts Charter School in Midland, Pennsylvania. She is a lover of words, metaphors, and small details. Her work has been recognized by the Lake Effect National High School Poetry Competition. She has been published in the literary magazines The Raven Review, The WEIGHT Journal, and Crêpe and Penn. Her interests include yoga, running, scrapbooking, portrait drawing, piano, crystal collecting, and all things magical.

Tina is a highschool senior from the suburbs of Ontario, Canada who loves to draw. Her work has previously been recognized by the Scholastic Art & Writing Awards. Despite not having much of it, in her free time, she can often be found sketching, embroidering, playing with her cat, or with her headphones on, laptop open, and blind to the rest of the world.

81 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All



bottom of page