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Atticus, I’m Sorry.
Sometimes/ i imagine his place / in the dirt / in the wind in / the lines in / my eyes / as that shadow fades / in the mourning light / and empathy deranged / is forced back upon me. Read more
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My Life After Death
I find myself, after deep (deep) introspection, able to isolate my consciousness from my physical body, and able to understand there is much more waiting beyond the bounds of life and death. Read more
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The Mason Jar
For an immeasurable amount of time, my life was cocooned by blackness, with no company but my own thoughts. Read more
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Alabaster Mascara on a Damaged Mannequin
I must be a mannequin that grew sentience; in that strange nightmare of feeling wrong and untouchable, rhythmic sins in my mind flow down like ropes of bile, unlovable, undesirable, repugnant and perverted, I reel from it, sometimes revel in it, repeat it and accuse myself of it, generous self-hatred bears a fearful prize. Read more
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“You didn’t think this was the end, did you?”: A Promising Young Woman Review
How do we make art out of trauma? Indeed, art seems to thrive on it, but in a world that is oversaturated with depictions of violence, many of us seem to have reached a point where we no longer want to see the things that haunt us at night on the big screen; instead, we… Read more
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Too Young. Too Woman.
On 5 June 2021, a Facebook update from Sally read, “this is … potentially the hardest [post] I’ve ever written – but I have decided to rescind my decision to stand for election to Lismore City Council.” After weeks of being followed in the street, having rocks thrown through her windows, and daily defamatory posts… Read more
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Grave Lies
When I die Where will my loved ones see me buried? Within the fired synapses of people I cared for And held gently in passing thoughts that Evaporate like soft steam from morning tea Read more
Print Issue #7 “Memento Mori” (2021)
1–2 minutes
