|
a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
|
|
a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
|
The material is ever-hungry, so
your Morse secrets drown. Of turgid eyes, of medium-rare heels. Circling the point you dare not toe with your audience inert and music muffled. If a girl falls on a woolen lake, does she still make a sound? If she scrapes her knee on the plush waves, does the wound still bleed? Can she smell metal, taste defeat? If a girl falls on a woolen lake, does she even fall at all? Comments are closed.
|
Categories
All
* = Editors' Choice work
Unless otherwise noted, all pictures used are open-source images in the public domain. Archives
May 2023
|