A poem by H Dawood about trauma and recovery
A three-part poem about sexual assault.
I peer through the holes in the sheets, I poke my finger through, wiggle my thumb, wonder when we’ll all be done.
Forks scrape against plates and the word just hangs there Dripping.
A poem about sexual assault, by a former best friend.
Sarah is a vein, a dark thread in the meat they process for the chicken tenders.
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.
A poem by Eve Colyer.