Your body crushed on the couch
His hands on her waist
Depression Poems
alone by Indah Lestari
so pigeons keep coming to this narrow chimney-like space. i hate opening the windows as i am afraid
Remembering by Frank Cavano
Outside, Inside by Jennifer-Crystal Johnson
Outside, Inside by Jennifer-Crystal Johnson On the outside, I smile. I socialize, I laugh, I have a good time… And most of the time, It works. On the inside, I cry. I worry, I wonder, I feel hopeless and afraid… And most of the time, It hurts. On the outside, I sing. I am strong,…
Coffee by Tim Heron
Untitled By Jennifer-Crystal Johnson
Untitled By Jennifer-Crystal Johnson Nearing the edge Of sanity And every dream Flashes before her With a pure Intensity The beauty of Reality Inside out *As published in Strangers with Familiar Faces ### Jennifer-Crystal Johnson is originally from Germany, but was raised all over. She has published one novella under her former last name, The…
Blues by Brendan Sullivan
Blues by Brendan Sullivan Morning comes in widow’s weeds while gloom settles to the bottom of my cup, begging to be stirred, wondering why my chin has fallen over the rim and how come my feet take forever to shuffle over floorboards and dust. I am vacant, worn down – just this mud-bare rug, heels…
The Bedroom by Doug Draime
The Bedroom by Doug Draime There is no point of reflection here. It wavers at the angle the bed used to be. Where it was once was, at that angle, I watched the stars and moon. Now the moon is where the apple tree was. The radio has completely disappeared. A Mexican vase is there…
Attention by Zachary Anthony
Attention by Zachary Anthony ATTENTION. Overwhelming, normally unconscious, Compulsion. You throw yourself out there. Was it worth it? Everyone is laughing at you. Everyone is cheering for you. Everyone is trying to empathize with you. But it feels wrong. Your outburst, Big or small. Even now, You want these words to be read. Is it…
Sisters of Bondage by Gavin Gerngross
Sisters of Bondage By Gavin Gerngross She filled the tube with her red. A prism of weeks reduced to jelly, this nutria, scattered among the glade. Reduction: dollop of discontent. Tilling imagination flocks out at will. By nightlight, there are prayers of meager request scrolled across the carpet. In this manifestation, heat pulling at her…