by Sam Hendrian Bed sheets wet againFrom tears and solo gearsCranking away at fantasies,The last remaining safe space. Sunrise is mercilessly early—6 AM to be exact—And there’s a suffocating pressureTo start the day off strong. But no one’s ever gotten anywhereOn the strength of a resolution,Since it’s only a brief…
by Christy Bailes Silky froth seeps through the window cracks and battles with a 1950s cast-iron radiator heater. The smell of vanilla frosting wakes Anne from two-hour’s worth of slumber. Still dressed with last night’s clothes, she sits up in bed. Vodka and pill bottles tumble off her legs and…
