When my parents were getting divorced, my father told me that he never loved me. I was sixteen. My mother was in their bedroom shoving bras, jeans, underwear, t-shirts into a suitcase large enough for an adult to curl up in. My father stood in the doorway with a can of Natty Boh in one […]
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There was no lipstick on my collar; no cartoonish smell lines of someone else’s perfume. There was a ghost, though, that trailed me home: a specter who didn’t slam cabinets or make things fly through the room but rather stood and stared from corners with a wispy finger pointed at me, knowing what I had […]
The door let out a pleasant chirp as they entered, a twirl of giggles and unbrushed hair, swirling together like soft serve. Reaching up with a muffled laugh to detangle her strawberry blonde from Rebecca’s brazen coal, she thought this must be a metaphor for their friendship: messy, beautiful, and undeniably intertwined. She hoped for […]
Rachel Wyman is a dancer and creative arts therapist from Walla Walla, Washington. She resides in Brooklyn, New York, where she works with psychiatric patients in a public […]
Rachel Wyman is a dancer and creative arts therapist from Walla Walla, Washington. She resides in Brooklyn, New York, where she works with psychiatric patients in a public hospital.
Yes, you were intense as incense, both elegance and coherence, a bull to my china shop, the red to my pepper, the miel to my chamo tea. But you wrote me off as a bohemian storm. Never mind that I was gibberish to your jarble, the spark to your spur, the spit to your fire. […]
The boy with the amblyopic squint and his aunt are in the fields, furrowing dirt banks around wilted dwarf apple trees. The sun doesn’t feel millions of miles away. It’s a bright, infernal heat, closing the boy’s lazy eye further. It’s also stressing the saplings plagued with flathead borers. The beetles are eating through trunks, […]
The spiders in my room are growing. They keep the mosquito population in check. Smeared corpses speckle my walls. My sheets are stained with red wax from that time I fell asleep with a candle burning. I have off-brand M&M’s in my closet. My plants need watering but the sink’s too far. There are dust […]
I’d like to go no further than I can throw a stone, no higher than my head, no faster than my legs, progressing slowly as the ocean frittering rocks into sand. I’ll dance as long and live as fast as a snowflake lifted into the sky, and watch the puddles harden into glaze, sparing in […]
Pain comes on soft cat feet, curls up on my lower belly, waits until its weight becomes intolerable and will not move even when force is used: oxycodone and cannabis. Insufficient crowbars to move a fluid weight.