HeyJaredI forgot how to speak
the sweet sting of winter reminds me I’m still soft around the edges
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 4
- Latest publication
- Sep 30, 2026
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- Earliest in this view
- Aug 1, 2026
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Pure, Sweet and Sickly (opens the original)
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I trace the blue of his veins in the half light, follow the rivers of his body returning blood to its hub.Clouds swell, tease relief but never burst. The grass in the front yard is death yellow as a result. Sleep softens at the edges. In here it smells of citrus - of ripe oranges, pure, sweet and sickly.As consciousness returns, I am nine - August is a fresh wound bleeding out. I look up and see squinting eyes. My mother spits into a tissue and dabs up blood from my knee. At the ER she’s convinc
Unpaid intern (opens the original)
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8:45, a door opens hungry and wanting. I’m heading down the throat towards the stomach, into a world which tastes of Styrofoam and smells like sanitizer.I enter this body every day, and now my two front toes ache from being pressed into a point. Somewhere outside, a capsule is bought, swallowed and dissolved in stomach acid. This sequence holds a rhythm to me like breathing.Fat short guy approaches—I can never remember his name. To him I am an unpaid empty calorie. He does something important, s
your girl (opens the original)
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She grew up self-assured; dulled by the sun and long afternoons. Her hair was the right kind of brown—the kind that sunlight turned red.We sank into the dust. It mixed with the air, and my lungs became full of it. I dyed her hair blond in my bathroom; the bleach burned my hands and eyes. I still remember her grin and reassuring those teeth, she didn’t look washed out.*I waited on the roadside until I realised she wasn’t coming. She was with the boy who couldn’t spell lavender. So I crouched down
what I couldn't hear (opens the original)
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I wake to the sense of an organ missing. Somewhere below my lungs. Above my large intestine.Between wake and sleep, I think I’m back in a booster seat. My mother is giving me something thick and repulsive to glug, making the world melt into a stickiness that seals my lashes shut.Beside me, he smells faintly of bleach.It makes me think about when the sun turned white and violent at noon. When the wind hit against a hospital window and I was hidden behind it — above everyone else.The cranes outsid
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