I hear the ticking of the clock as life passes me by.My screen is practically embedded in my dead dry eyes.I’m scrolling, I’m scrolling, bored out of my mind. Constant sharp pain courses through my body.Sharp aches clawing at me, tearing me up insideI wish I had a job, a salary,But health isn’t something money can buy. So I hum to myself to the beat of my heart I reprimand myself because surely...

It’s nighttime: she’s treading water, flailingunder the largest delta of distant singing starsShe wants no light to guide her home—a woman can want to swim alone.The cherubim come calling her name thenCondescending. Carrying blinding stars. Four faces, teeth gnashing—four wings with smoldering feathersflap violently: awakening tempests,and they cry, “It’s the tides, then!”that threaten to bury ...