It’s with solemn joy that we bring you our Death Issue. The work in these pages is not only a window into these artists’ souls, but also a mirror to our own grief. 

They construct an altar to their fallen friend made of glittering 4Loko cans, passing around a single white lighter. 

Her skin, nearly translucent, was the star’s enemy. Any blush registered within moments of the flare, though at the moment, none appeared. 

Now grief follows me everywhere. It’s a stray dog at my heels. A ghost riding shotgun in my car. A second heartbeat, louder than my own. 

But I still can’t fully grasp my grandma’s passing—how someone I loved so much expired without notice, how it escaped me despite my seemingly ever-present wariness of it. 

Spring's return from the underworld, season of hope Gods came to her salvation each time The war spanning months, succumbing to July. 

I held my eyes open because hers would not and I traced the waves of hair on her scalp and I pinched her ears and wiggled her toes my soul no longer staked to me I sought another offering to give 

It’s not just a day of mourning that haunts me; clouding my vision is the pain of lost traditions, absences stretching deep into my family tree. 

“No llores mija” he said to me several times on his last week on this world. Daddy, I can’t do that for you yet, I still cry every day where no one sees me. 

I would do anything to do that with you now. I think that is heaven: me and you sitting in the old backyard. 

Imagino nuestro reencuentro así: tomarte de la mano y continuar esta historia de amor interrumpida. 

Anoche soñé contigo. Regresabas de la muerte y yo te iba contando todo lo que hemos hecho desde que partiste. 

I want the world to know you—if only talking about you didn’t make me cry. 

I close my eyes but the darkness and silence betray me—wanting to remember what I’m forced to forget. 

I know you’re here. I know better than to question the veil. but it doesn’t change anything. it doesn’t make me feel better. not yet. 

Her journey took an unexpected turn in 2022, when she was diagnosed with a brain tumor. Living with seizures and the realities of a disability could have silenced her, but instead, it deepened her calling. 

With the movie Kneecap, and the viral success of Renata’s music, we can see that younger generations are hungry to express themselves in a language that speaks to their soul, their roots, and to find a voice beyond their colonized realities.