Poetry
Poetry
Poetry
Creative Nonfiction

Prison of flesh

Amaranthe Ivory Violeta

Death.
The process and length of the decay of flesh, any flesh, depends. Little things. Big things. Many things. But generally once the rot has set in, this process is irreversible. You see ... [+]

Short Fiction

The other place

Amaranthe Ivory Violeta

Here in this place of other, I am an observer.
On an eerily tall mountaintop, I stand. It’s dark shadows and peaks crawling high up into the ether, allowing for a birds eye view of the world ... [+]

Poetry
Short Fiction

12

Lea Lanzalotto

The clock strikes 12. The hour of birth. The hour of candlelight. The dawning of time. The hour of unanswered screams on an empty road. A cold wind whistles through the forest. The unseasonable chill ... [+]

Creative Nonfiction

Closets

Lea Lanzalotto

The bottom of a closet is a welcoming place. I know - not the greatest sentiment for a queer person to express, but just try to hear me out on this one.
The hanging clothes hardly graze the tops ... [+]

Poetry
Poetry
Poetry

Rise

Emily Rittammer

I rise.
My head bursting above the cold ocean I’ve been drowning in for years.
Murky waters ... [+]

Short Fiction

Strange Territory

Emily Rittammer

A.
Floating
Tethered by a single cord.
There is a steady beat. Like a drum that shakes every cell. There is darkness, but I feel surrounded and held. It is so warm, and safe? Maybe. The ... [+]

Poetry
Poetry
Poetry
Creative Nonfiction

The BEES

Hermit Thrush

My family liked the campsite at first: plenty of trees, level ground for our tent, a short walk to the bathroom. Though we didn’t like that buzzing sound. We chalked it up to the nearby power lines ... [+]

Creative Nonfiction

The Caretaker

Joelle Hui

“I need to deposit money into the bank.” He said as he kept moving about his room and picking up objects and moving them somewhere else. I gestured to him to keep quiet and I tried to coax him ... [+]

Creative Nonfiction

The Russian Song

Niki Farivar

I’m sitting on the couch, staring at the roof. One of my legs is on the table that is filled with cups and garbage. The plant next to my foot is dried. A slight light enters the room from the gap ... [+]