Happy reading

Heidie Raine Heidie Raine

Iowa

This is where my sister moved, married, resides, and I’m terrified that orthodoxy demands I do the same, that I suffocate in the colorlessness. If it does, I will. I’ll live there and stay there and die, sewing skirts and cheering on classical conversations and buying pasta and milk in bulk until I clock out in the home I rarely ventured beyond.

Read More
Casey Catherine Moore Casey Catherine Moore

Naming Assault

I had spent my life disconnected from my body. Hating my body, I tortured it—starving, purging, over-exercising, looking at food as a necessary and unsatisfying evil. I hated my body so much that I felt like someone was granting me a favor if they wanted to touch it. Something I should accept because, if they could see past this body I hated, it meant they really cared about me.

Read More
Morgan Ziegenhorn Morgan Ziegenhorn

On The Flight Back From Charlotte, NC

Ruminations on / moments in time, a million what-ifs written / in shaking print or strung up in ones and zeros / across a backlit computer screen.

Read More
Katie Matz Katie Matz

If Something Ever Happens

I’m sorry we didn’t have more time. / maybe your heart would’ve softened / or maybe I would’ve stopped trying to fix / something that was too far /broken.

Read More
Lauren Melink Lauren Melink

A Listen In Love

I am not brave, for if I were I would have broken the heart of my boyfriend long ago. I don’t believe I love him. I say, “don’t believe” instead of simply “don’t” because I am still not brave. I am afraid of the truth and I believe the truth is that I never loved him. 

Read More
Anita Gallagher Anita Gallagher

The Legacy Impacts Of Poverty

He picked me up from school one day and when we walked into the house, I saw that our belongings had been packed into boxes. We sat down on two boxes facing each other in the living room. He told me that he hadn’t been able to pay for the house and that we’d have to move. He gave me a few minutes to say good-bye to my closest friend in the neighborhood.

Read More
Morgan Ziegenhorn Morgan Ziegenhorn

Christmas Party

this is the room i slept in / when i fell in love for the first / and last time. where i looked out / the window so long the view / changed.

Read More
Lázaro Gutiérrez Lázaro Gutiérrez

The Wounds Of My Father

the wounds of my father I carry / etched forever in my heart— / I do not blame him—for he could not give / what he never received

Read More
Elaine Ferrell Elaine Ferrell

How to Barely Survive Christmas with the In-Laws

Spend a morning Googling how to travel with two small children without going crazy. Become frustrated with mommy bloggers who imply that their children sit quietly for the duration of the flight. Give up on Google, and switch to Amazon. Spend a small fortune on mouth-friendly, easily-cleanable toys.

Read More
Jen Bauduy Jen Bauduy

The Lioness and My Father’s Pride

I faced front and looked down. I couldn’t watch as my father inched closer to the vigilant lions. In the front of the car, neither the man nor the woman said a word. They must have felt powerless to contradict this brash foreign executive. I sat terrified, barely breathing, my eyes averted. I couldn’t say a word to the acquaintances, with whom a short time earlier I’d chatted warmly at the watering hole. I glanced only once, just as my father stopped, defenseless in the grass, halfway between the car and the pride

Read More
Leah Browning Leah Browning

Sea Glass

I hold up this memory / like a piece of blue sea glass, / turning it this way and that / against the light, / trying to discern its meaning. 

Read More
Briana Craig Briana Craig

Funeral Service

The plasma in my vein will grow cold and distant / The hairs on my scalp will caress my cheek once more. / This body is its own memorial service, its own funeral,

Read More
Heather Bartos Heather Bartos

Columbines in July

I know from when my father died that this gets easier, that it gets better with time. The big boulder of grief gets worn from the river, the daily flow and routines of life, and it loses its jagged edges, the places where it can cut the deepest. But the river never really flows the same way again. The water never moves over certain spots without touching the boulder, without a gentle bumping and bruising, without remembering and reminding. 

Read More
Michael McCarthy Michael McCarthy

Apart

We grew apart, sometimes violently, sometimes unwittingly; without my grandparents, there was no sun around which my family could revolve. Not obligated to stay within our orbits, we drifted far-off and away from each other to lead lonelier lives. This was what moved me: the trauma of the present bludgeoning my most precious memories. I had a family then.

Read More
Erin Jamieson Erin Jamieson

I Find You

In the checkout/ I think you see me / I smile, the kind of smile / you give someone / you once loved / and have to pretend /you never did

Read More
Tuwanda Muhammad Tuwanda Muhammad

I Ain’t Gonna Argue

I ain't gonna argue with the sun today because it wants to shine; I need rain to wash my pain / away, but I ain't gonna argue. No, not me. I'm just gonna let it be.

Read More
Pei Wen Pei Wen

MELODY OF THE EASTERN WINDS

after you leave / wine warms our memories, easing my yearning / water flows towards the east / can time be stolen / flowers bloom only once / yet I’ve missed that moment

Read More
Jane Palmer Jane Palmer

Independent Evidence

It is 2021 and I know that the sex offender registry doesn’t make us safer. Statutes of limitations are artificial boundaries on when a survivor can tell their truth. The legal system is designed to protect defendants’ rights, not victims.

Read More