Archive for ‘September, 2016’

From Issue 11: De-presh-uhn

Rachael Walker

Depression /dɪˈprɛʃ n/
like (adj.) 1. therapist number one says it is like living thirteen years in a downpour. I say it is like a drizzle that just keeps coming, like the sun will never find its way back on my skin again. 2. mom says she’s never seen me like this before. dad says it is like I am walking with someone else’s feet. my friends say they don’t know what this is about, how it feels to not be at home in my own skin, but it is like a new person is sitting at …

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From Issue 11: Sigh

Ben Serna-Grey

I woke up with months of my life missing, your beard and hair streaked with stripes of gray, heavy bags under your eyes. You told me to just lie still for a while. I stared at the ceiling while I felt tingles run up my arms and legs, and my vision filled with flakes of static.

I wasn’t breathing.

You came over to me and motioned for me to sit up. I slowly pushed up into a sitting position. “Do you remember me? It’s John.” You came in and pressed a light kiss to my lips. In the …

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