'Flash' writing anthology about chronic pain - submissions welcome!
The passer by denies my existence with the confidence of their gait, the steadiness of their gaze. I peel back layers of skin to show the shining mess, but each time I’m swallowed by earth – which in case you’ve forgotten is cold, full of dead, sharp things. It’s like fucking an iron maiden – […]
I woke up a wilted roseMy petals were crusheda thousand tempestsMy thorns turned inwards striking my stemWorms crawled all over meYet my roots were intact – by Angelina Bong More works Malaysia
Too young to understand, Too scared to stay by RachDoesDesign Wales [The image features a form with chaotic hair spanning the entirety of the piece, lines and dots show the chaos of the mind]
She stands uncertainly inside the cubicle, exposed to light from a dozen UV tubes. Machinery hums softly, the seconds tick away. A narrow slit connects her to the outside world. Friends have seen her skin, inflamed and bleeding, her swollen eyelids. She hasn’t mentioned synapse pain, the 2am, 3am, 4am explosions waking her, holding […]
The skin I wear The skin I wear is a covering for my bones and flesh and I’m glad it holds it in but wonder sometimes why and sigh about the pain I’m in. It’s not as if I’ve fallen or didn’t watch where I was going, I was plodding on quite well I thought […]
Hello pain let’s dance! Hello pain let’s dance together and cry a melody Just you and me forever which dance is it to be? A boogie or a waltz a tango or some jiving? Whatever the rhythm It’s time to do some living The violinist’s bow hews across its strings The drummer’s sticks do beat […]
It’s 2am and my body is on fire. Every cell is boiling. Sweat creeps from my pores. It only takes a moment to soak through my favourite t-shirt, then through the sheets and mattress covered in yellow imprints. I can’t get any fucking sleep. This happens to me every night, up to ten times. Then […]
This is shocking. I am not an object and I am not broken but the pain tells me differently. This is chronic. Why am I not adjusted yet? It comes and goes, it’s all my consciousness or all I want is to lie down. And when […]
hospital gown a flap in the back lights flickering tra la la obsessive screaming sounds of machines dissolving matter situated between two beds rupture of bodies declared missing delivered in close up by Jane Joritz-Nakagawa Japan Jane Joritz-Nakagawa’s most recent book is Poems: New and Selected (Isobar, 2018) on sale at Amazon
The chaos of pain in every moment Inside me Playing its jarring jazz Impromptu – No set list Whilst I exist amongst you Cloaked I normalcy by Sara Elgerot Sweden