by Lunchbox Editor | Apr 19, 2023 | Poetry
Slammed head first into rock bottom Lungs filled with water, Ocean pulled over my head, Laid down and slept for seven days Where it’s far too deep to see the stars Black seaweed hair waving in the tide With a push off the rocks, I am Launched upwards To...
by Lunchbox Editor | Apr 19, 2023 | Poetry
When the sun closes her eyes and pretends to sleep, I go back, back to before scraping my knee didn’t make me cry, before I wished I still knew how to pretend and every path led to a hidden cave with broken glass and rusted swing sets, before you stopped placing...
by Lunchbox Editor | Apr 19, 2023 | Poetry
Will you give me your groans, your breaths, your tears, will you bury them where I can find them? Will you bake the soil, tear out the grass, until the ground is parched and lifeless and still? Will you lend me your worst memories so I can turn them into tiny rolls of...
by Lunchbox Editor | Apr 19, 2023 | Fiction
Out of nowhere, I felt like moving and and now I am on a walk. I have earbuds in, but I don’t hear anything. I don’t want to listen to music, or to Michael Silverblatt on NPR, or to the wind navigating the trees or the trains carrying bodies to home or from home...
