By Rhian Elizabeth when i was a child my sleepwalking was an almost nightly occurrence. my mother would find me standing on the bottom step of our garden, a little lost ghost in a nightgown, paper thin against the elements on those welsh valleys nights. then there was the time she caught me pissing in the living room plant pot, the time i toppled books and shelves and chairs during a rare stay with my older brother in his fancy windsor apartment, and i was once rescued by a n

By Virginie Bernard You betrayed me, made me a nomad Lied to my face, for more than a year Stole from me, money I never had All to pretend we were both clean Just before my gut-wrenching departure I needed to shock your sedated routine I ran through my memories to capture The one you still care about, our everything I wanted you to find her stabbed on the floor Figure out what to do with her lifeless body Lonely, burdened, yet selfish when you score But she came closer, eye t

By S.D Gould I was hungover the day of your funeral. And so many after that. Grief came in bottles, and left in apologies I never sent. They said the service was beautiful— I don’t remember the lilies or the suits, the priest reciting a name that no longer sounded like yours. I’m sure I mouthed along, tasting the syllables like ash. When they lowered you down, the world didn’t break. That offended me. The sun was obscene in its persistence. The sky had the audacity to stay bl