|
a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
|
|
a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
|
![]() It’s back. The familiar hand that wraps around your throat, pins you flat and pushes breath from your body. You fall into it like an old habit, hole up inside yourself and burrow down into flesh and tissue– cold to the touch but warm on the tongue. You devour every shred of something real you can scavenge, feel sick, force it up, wish you could taste even just the acid. Brush your teeth,
wash your face, blame the emptiness on the scrolling, look to the sky for something, swirls, stars, an illusion of explanation, and find dark. You are home. Comments are closed.
|
Categories
All
* = Editors' Choice work
Unless otherwise noted, all pictures used are open-source images in the public domain. Archives
October 2023
|