A place for stories about chronic illness, disability, mental health, and neurodivergence.
Poetry
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By Pilate GrimmI found something decaying when I cut myself open, unreadable prints and shapeless body.
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By Naomi StenbergAlpacas, I discovered recently, chew in a very wide and exaggerated way. They really articulate their chewing. Chomp. I love that my dog eats like an alpaca.
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By Andrea Koroluk
A tunnel closing to a pinprick of light with me trapped inside.
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By Barbara BrooksHey, this is me talking to you. I am important: I hold your head and protect your spinal cord.
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By Diane FunstonFor poet Diane Funston, aging means she can’t always catch loved ones from falling the way she used to, but maybe that’s ok.
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By Bobby Steve BakerHow do you spell relief? The Curious Boy spells it, C O N V I C T E D. The Cautionary Man doesn’t know how to spell it.
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By Barbara Brooks
Takes awhile to get into the shower. I slip in cautiously, use the grab bar, pull the bath bench in behind me.