Sarah is a vein, a dark thread in the meat they process for the chicken tenders.
Life existed outside of the bubble of rigid academia, and I hadn’t been able to see that until I left it
A poem about those who feel excluded from Mental Health Awareness Week.
With candlesticks and Midsummer Commons we laughed, the sunset never stopped our light, we were kids with a limbo-like future.
Can an artwork play the role of sunlight?
A poem about when disordered eating swallows menstruation.
A poem by Eve Colyer.
You open your mouth wide, I peer into the greasy tunnel. I got lost in there, I slipped on all the surfaces.
We want it so much that we succumb to the illusion. Talking circles with a distinct sort of nausea. Flagrant on our own accord so don't believe every thought you think, fool.