Bloodbath- Anahita Ebrahimi
By Anahita Ebrahimi A lukewarm mixer between us Your older brother’s gin My god we are sickand we are tired Sheepishly panderingto the host For you she is buzzing For me she is scrupulous Slow and sober Slow and sombre…
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Proxemics- Rebecca Foley
By Rebecca Foley “We should have lunch sometime,” she says. We should have lunch sometime. A phrase meant to be laughed off, returned to sender. Deserving of a ‘get your girl to talk to my girl,’ or a ‘when I…
The Stranger- Crystal Goulding
By Crystal Goulding There he was, standing in front of the fire, the strange man I had rescued from the storm. His clothes were hanging over a rack just out of reach of the fire’s flames. His body was muscular…
Angry- Mariam
By Mariam I have so much anger inside of me Like a disease spreading throughout my entire body Like a box refusing to be locked with its key And sometimes, it gets the better of me My tongue will…
Staying- Vivianna Vitikka
By Vivianna Vitikka The plane touched down, a bony singing swan ‘You are home,’ so I’m told: this is home. Over thirteen thousand kilometres and thirty-eight hours you are twelve years old and the trees don’t shuffle the way you’d have…
As I Lay Here- Anahita Ebrahimi
By Anahita Ebrahimi I remember the raindrops trickling Down your sunburnt cheeks Your arms wrapped around me for a second too long High hopes and consciences wavering Words of encouragement From you and the man with the polished boots My…
Jacaranda- Sophie Barlow
By Sophie Barlow The jacaranda tree stood tall in the middle of the backyard. It was the highlight feature; everything else was unremarkable. The dead patch of dirt where the above ground pool used to be. A swing-set, the stock…
Dawn to a Widow- Sathyani Kotakadeniya
By Sathyani Kotakadeniya Insanity…yes, I am draped in insanity Laughing the high pitched shrills of a nightingale a wing Hair down, pale faced, walking an infinitely slow walk I’ve become a slave to the world’s bitter ways I lost…
Foliage- Jordan Towns
Foliage by Jordan Towns With her cup of tea nestled warmly in her hands, Josie admired the morning fog travelling through the mountains. The light, single-degree temperatures stung her lungs each time she breathed in too deeply. After finishing only…
Sightless Bob- J.A. Lightfoot
By J.A. Lightfoot CONTENT WARNING – Graphic Imagery They call him Sightless Bob. The call him Sightless because he has no eyes, and they call him Bob because of the old joke. What do you call a man with no arms…