“[The reader is left to] examine whether or not there really is a “better” existence; or if we are all destined to simply live the life we’ve been given, and nothing more”. – Chris Margolin
I remove myself,
Like a missing citation.
I carry the weight of thoughts,
But not the words
To reference the feelings,
I exist in narratives and stories
That I fear few will understand,
And even fewer will ever read.
It was only a matter of time.
Our existence would only exist
In this chapter of my life.
The length was still undefined.
And with words
Lost in translation,
We exist on borrowed time.
Moments stolen from my dreams…
But I had to accept that
We were no longer
I took days of distance,
Contemplated all my exes,
Reflected & Reminisced,
Made a few decisions
On how to measure…
The depths of this experience
REVIEW: YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE A FRIEND – ASHLEY ELIZABETH (NIGHTINGALE & SPARROW PRESS)
…Dear John letter, ending with the words, “you are hurting me. i am letting you. i do not want to.” There it is, cut and dry: a breakup. Except it’s not.
he visceral memories echo Sharon Olds and Rachel McKibbens, taking on a confessional style that does not flinch at trauma but also makes space for complexity of loving one’s parents even as abuse continues.
REVIEW: EVE AND ALL THE WRONG MEN – AVIYA KUSHNER (DANCING GIRL PRESS)
Religions converse along with the characters as works of art come alive, translated into the text by the viewer’s keen eye.