the day stretches out in front of me like an el- astic band it snaps * in my bed a sharp ravine a single hair I search for more to braid a rope in case somebody finds me * my cries for help come in the form of requests no worries if not for DIY a punnet of cherry vine tomatoes please * a bramble sharpening towards my bedroom so slow it might cut glass * searching my midnight room for a mosquito that could be the hum of being alive * every morning I test my body like a weak bridge
A place for stories about chronic illness, disability, mental health, and neurodivergence.
