If God asks me if I deserve to go to heaven
I think I’ll ask if you’re there too
Because in all honesty I doubt either one of us made it
Between empty promises on cold sheets
And full hearts burning purely out of lust
I suspect we’ve earned a place somewhere south of here
But then I imagine if I went and you didn’t
Heaven without one or the other
Would suffice as hell anyway
“Untitled” by Janai Heise
“B&W Octopus” by Skyla Heise
“Accident” by Madi Baker
She never wanted a baby. Their screams, their red faces, the tears in their squinty eyes. They want comfort, 24/7 comfort. She wasn’t capable of loving anyone but herself but she accepted that.
Now here he is, he’s looking at her. Cooing, giggling, and even smiling a little. Maybe it’s gas. He’s got her eyes. He’s got his no good father’s blonde hair.
The dogs bark, his eyes fill with tears, and here comes that god damn scream. She can’t take it. It’s not her fault, it was an accident. She hates crying babies.
“Grand Old Ladies” by Lo Cast
The stillness of the night was still lingering as I stepped outside. The air was cool, not quite crisp, and held the promise of shorter, cooler days soon to come. The squirmy little one I held in my arm sniffed with anticipation. This was her time. I set her down and grabbed the leash as she began to trot with determination. We found our rhythm instantly and I breathed deeply, for this was my time also. Destinations silently beckoned and, since it had been a few days, it was time to go visit the grand old ladies.
We made our way down the dimly lit street. This morning, our passing goes all but unnoticed; there was little traffic and few pedestrians. We keep an ever watchful eye as we pass alleyways. Their yawning chasms of murkiness provide the perfect cover for anyone wishing to cause mischief. Onward.
We start and stop, start and stop. Curly tail held high, the little girl springs from tree to hydrant to light posts and every place in between. I wait patiently as she gathers the invisible information each sniff has to offer. She too, has her favorite places, as she smells intently only here and there.
Our quest takes us around the corner to where traffic is bustling and the blushing sky can be seen just above the dark, somber buildings. It will be completely light soon. Perfect. We will be able to see the ladies in their finery by daylight by the time we labor up the hill.
On the main drag, we run a gauntlet of trash cans and recycle bins; trash pick-up occurred only hours, or perhaps minutes, earlier. This part of town, like its residents, live life unapologetically out in the open. It is in your face and all its ugliness assaults the senses.
The younger men, the Grand, Bryan Place, and the Hamilton Hotel stand sentinel, as they have for the largest part of a century or more. Their finery is simple and clean with just a hint of embellishment here and there; a curlicue of decorative molding, a bit of exterior trim or an exaggerated arch lend a bit of playful fanciness to their stoic demeanor. However, these gentlemen are not whom we are seeking, although they do show me a bit more of themselves each time I pass.
We trudge the steepness of hill, ever closer to our destination, barely noticing our labored breath. Just one more corner and a bit more of a hill and we will be there. As predicted, the sky’s blush dims as the sun begins to steal the serenity of the morning. We pass churches, without a glance. I have never had an interest in the snooty, judgmental edifices. Their flagstone veneer, arched doorways, and stained glass windows are pretentious and snobby, much like the nouveau rich. No, I am seeking ladies of class and elegance, which is the very fiber of their existence.
A wrought iron fence leads me to the first one. She is on the left. The ones on the right are much younger, beautiful nonetheless, but cannot hold a candle to the ladies I seek. The trees in front demurely shield their glory like a faithful servant; a hush of reverence surrounds and pays homage to these damsels. A determined pedestrian misses none of the finery in which they are adorned. Her neighbor is the grandest of all. In each detail, a statement of her upbringing is told, despite the indignities to which recent generations have subjected her by making as many apartments of her grand space as possible.
I linger and drink in her grandeur, an appreciative eye noting the graceful porch pillars, the classy bunting permanently falling in delicate waves around each window. Her marble facade bespeaks her quiet wealth. I stare, noting detail after detail. Like the lady she is, her dignity is there for all to see. Her secrets are her own, yet she hides nothing. I love this grand old lady the most. Slowly, I make my way to her neighbor, loving the Grecian columns and balcony that surely must have welcomed partygoers with warmth and gaiety. Each lady I pass has her own distinction, makes her own contribution. I am in a dream world where time has no meaning.
The little one brings me back to the present. She has sniffed all there is to sniff and her tail is drooping her fatigue. The spring in her step is a regular little trot now. Reluctantly, I sigh. With one last lingering look, I nod to the grand old ladies, and turn the corner.
“Drunken Walk” by Victoria Carter
Deeper and deeper we sink
into the lust of us.
Are we just living
or merely surviving?
F
A
L
L
I
N
G
Past this perception we call reality.
Hold onto it,
then drift into imagination.
Tell me why the moon hits your face,
and reminds me of that place
of neither peace nor virtue, but
S
A
N
I
T
Y and reality.
Letting me know that there’s
more to life than the bliss
of lonesome nights.
Walk in the direction of the unknown
for the earth is my home.
The trees whisper in my ear
they tell me, it’s so clear.
Birds from above
Shadow me, unloved.
The rocks bellow
they know it’s frigid.
The alcohol it numbs,
and that feeling it comes.
Don’t live in my head,
Can’t see that it’s dead.
Look to the sky, can’t say goodbye.
Tell yourself it’s okay
though you know you can’t stay.
“Sister” by Lauren Daye
Younger sister
Your innocence used to be the most beautiful thing I have ever seen
I remember when I craved the purity that you held in your gentle grip
I remember when I spoke of sex, your virgin body would get stiff and your cheeks would burn red
I remember when you looked at your bumpy body in the mirror, and you were content
Oh, younger sister
Did you believe that you wouldn’t lose your self-worth?
Did you ever imagine a day where you would obsess over the temple that god gave you?
Did you think you could keep your innocence stored behind all of your oversized clothes?
If I told you that a year from now you’d be starving yourself before every meal,
Would you believe me?
Little sister
You are not defined by the sickening social ideal of an attractive woman
Just because your love handles hang over the edges of your too-small jeans
It does not mean that you are flawed
Oh, Little sister
When you look in the mirror do you see yourself as a fuckdom?
Do you respect the naked little girl who looks back at you?
When did you lose your innocence?
It is crazy that I don’t recognize your voice anymore
You spend hours telling me how losing your virginity made you into a woman
And that as your bodies clashed in the woods, you were so in love
Do you believe the words you spat out of your mouth?
And after he left you, did you believe that your body was a battle field?
Did you care whether the razor cut too deep?
Did you give yourself a limit to your madness?
Sister, I know your heart is broken, but will you please keep this meal down?
Tiny sister
Just a month ago you told me that you preferred death
You began playing Russian roulette, swallowing pills to mask the sadness
Putting beer bottles to your lips to hide the pain
Is it working?
Do you have purpose as he presses his lips against your neck and says that you’re fuckable
Well tiny sister
Does it make you feel sexy when the skin of your sunken belly wraps around your boney hips?
Are you proud of the weight-obsessed girl you see in the mirror?
Are your secrets exciting?
When we eat out does your heart race as you walk to the bathroom?
Do you get a high?
Don’t you fucking tell me you were just fixing your make-up
Vanishing sister
Your war-torn body is no longer as sturdy as it used to be
But I see the pain erupting from your hazel eyes, I know you’re trying to escape
Stop holding yourself back
Oh, vanishing sister
Don’t you see that you are worth more?
More than how much food you can get out of your stomach
More than how a man touches your boney little body
More than how your silhouette looks in the mirror
You are worth so much more
Younger sister
A year from now you will be purging your thanksgiving meal into mom’s bathroom toilet
Your thighs will be etched with tally marks of how many times your heart has been broken
Innocent younger sister
I know that you are so young right now and this doesn’t make sense
But it will
Please, imagine your beautiful body laying at the morgue
Can you see yourself there?
How does it make you feel?
Never wish death upon yourself, put the razor back in the drawer where it came from
Younger sister
I have missed you so much
I miss the way you used to lay with me on the couch eating jars of Nutella
I was so jealous of how you knew that behind every pound of fat on your body
You were beautiful
Sister
You are beautiful
“Dreams” by Anonymous
I dream of a house
Where books fill the shelves
I read through them all
And find my true self
I dream of a time
When people don’t lie
I know my true friends
And they don’t connive
I dream of a man
Who is not a sleaze
I give him my all
And he never leaves
I dream of a family
That would understand
I know they won’t judge
But would lend me a hand
I dream of a life
Where I could break free
I know I could fly
And you all could see
I dream of a day
When my dreams come to life
And the dreams that I have
Are no longer at night
“Addict” by Tara Hahn
When we first met, my world was dull, and nothing out of the ordinary ever seemed to happen to me. Every day was the same and I felt numb to the world. I worked my nine to five and kept my head down, dutifully running the rat race. It’s not that the people at the office were horrible; in fact, they were all quite pleasant. I just could never seem to relate to them. They all had a spouse or a partner or a kid while I had nothing. Every evening I would come home, turn on the television, and fall asleep to some infomercial. Now it seems I can’t fall asleep without you.
Our mutual friend, Bridget introduced us. She said she had known you for a few months by then. At first, I was a little reluctant because I knew what you did to girls like me. I felt that, if I were to get to know you, you would someday be gone and I would be left a ruined woman. Bridget said that I shouldn’t be so skeptical, so I decided to take a chance on you. That first night was magical and I felt as if I had known you my whole life. I had only wished that I met you sooner, because I couldn’t imagine spending another minute without you. Needless to say, I was hooked.
When we were together, I felt completed for once in my life. I felt so safe and comfortable around you and, no matter what happened, you were always there to catch me when I fell and fill me with joy day after day. Every morning I woke up wanting to be in your presence, and every evening I fell asleep in your arms. While under your spell, I felt as if I were in a boat in the middle of a vast ocean. The ocean was dark and deep and treacherous, but the boat was warm and soft and full of comfort. The sea would roar and enormous waves would crash down around me, but the boat kept me dry and safe. Sometimes, I would feel the tug of everyday life pull at the sails of my boat but, the more of you I got, the less I owed to the world.
I started to miss work. At first, it was only a day or two every month, but it soon became more and more frequent. My coworkers began to gossip and everyone speculated different things but I didn’t care, I had you. On the days I called off, I would spend every hour enjoying your warmth. Until one morning, I think it was a Tuesday, when my boss called and said that I wouldn’t be needed around the office anymore. She said I had missed one too many days and they had replaced me with someone more reliable. I was free from the clutches of my job, yet I couldn’t help but feel a little upset. Were you really worth losing my job? I couldn’t stand being apart from you, but how was I going to pay my bills? After a minute or two of self-deliberation, I decided not to worry about it, so I called you up and you came over. You made me feel much better, like always.
You were by my side when I was evicted from my apartment and went with me as I went, crawling over to my parents’ house and begging them to take me in. They didn’t know about you and I knew they wouldn’t understand if I told them. They let me stay in my old bedroom under the condition that I would get a job right away, so I did. I was nervous about telling you. Getting a new job meant less time with you and, although I told my parents I could handle it, deep down inside I knew I couldn’t bear to be away from you. When I finally worked up the courage to tell you, you showed a side I had never before seen. Vicious jealousy filled your entire being as you forcefully reached out with one arm and yanked me back with the strength of a wild bear. I was shocked by your forcefulness and even more shocked when you gave me that ultimatum. You said if I tried to leave you, you would ruin me.
I tried to leave you for my parents’ sake. I couldn’t handle seeing them disappointed in how I acted around you. They had already seen another family member fall victim to a guy like you, and I knew deep down that they couldn’t handle their own daughter being the predator’s prey. As much as I tried to keep you a secret, my parents eventually found out, and soon thereafter kicked me out when I refused to break it off. They don’t understand, and they never will, as they have never felt the connection that we have. This unbreakable bond we have keeps us together. I am homeless, but I still have you. I have no job, but I still have you. That is all that matters.
I never thought this day would come. I was so careful and cautious but you came into my life like a tornado, ripping to shreds all that was familiar to me. You left me today with parting words that hurt worse than any pain I’d ever experienced. You said you couldn’t be with a penniless, homeless bum. You said I was too clingy and you needed someone independent and strong. As I think to myself, I wonder what it was that I ever saw in you. You bring out the worst in me and cause me to isolate myself. You always told me that I had no room for anyone else in my life and I wasn’t worthy of anyone’s love but yours. Until I met you, I never knew it was possible for one to be my worst enemy yet also be my greatest love.
Before I met you, I was an independent, well-off woman who took care of herself. I had a job, and I lived my life. But now, I am not living; I’m dying. I am dying without you and there is no cure. The warm, safe boat that once held me like a newborn baby has tipped me out and dropped me into the raging sea without a life vest. I scream for help but no one is there. I reach out to the darkness as I gasp for air but only get a mouthful of salty water and a handful of hopelessness. I beg for you to come back but the crashing waves carry my voice away to a realm of lost wishes and regrets.
Far off in the distance, I see someone boarding your boat at the shore. She steps on timidly and waves goodbye to her two children waiting patiently on the shore. The boat sets sail as she relaxes into your heavenly arms, enjoying the warmth and comfort you once gave me.
“Hampden Dog” by Maggie Snowberger
