by Lunchbox Editor | Apr 19, 2023 | Poetry
(Content Warning: guns, school shooting) They should have noticed it when I was young. Who’ll be there (my mother didn’t believe me) to note my absence if I’m gone? Who’ll keep me after class to ask what’s wrong (100 rounds in 2 ½ minutes in rooms 111...
by Lunchbox Editor | Apr 19, 2023 | Poetry
this is how she came to us: a heartbroken girl dove into the depths and placed a pearl on her tongue. she sealed it behind her lips, a promise from the sea. inside her bowels, the pearl boiled and wept tears of acid. that night, clothed in...
by Lunchbox Editor | Apr 19, 2023 | Poetry
nothing will ever change so I can’t keep believing that it will get better with time and my wounds will heal because I’ve seen firsthand, it’s not true. the world is a terrible place and it’s foolish to believe otherwise. I have to tell myself nothing...
by Lunchbox Editor | Apr 19, 2023 | Poetry
You’re always still until your not I pretend that you want me when the only thing you really want is to be alone In a beautiful arrangement of stretching limbs that tangle above and below Carrying your weight When I am asleep and in the current of the night...
by Lunchbox Editor | Apr 19, 2023 | Poetry
The night before my dog died I had a dream about a moth-woman. She was beautiful, inhuman, familiar. Her skin was golden, her hair flowed down In soft yellow waves. She smiled kindly to me With a love only capable in animals: Unconditional, unjudging. She knew...
by Lunchbox Editor | Apr 19, 2023 | Poetry
Five miles north of the Sunday Farmers’ Market, there is a rock I used to sit on when the world spun fast, overlooking the lake, hidden by tall trees, fifty feet off the trail. You’ll know you’re close when you see the red oak I carved our names into almost...
