For a long time i didn’t have the space to be myself Self determination (inside the house and the safe space of my personal bubble) was far from my reality Only something that i could taste during my dreams Or half experience through my writing Someone was sitting on my chest without my consent restricting… Continue reading Requiem for the source
Author: Laconic Steph
Do Angels Speak?
I carry my heart in my stomach My thoughts on my chest My disappointment in my second mouth Tired of trying Tired of not trying Tired of starring at the walls, my phone, the ceiling, the face in the mirror Tired of starring and not moving Must I always ask my right foot permission to… Continue reading Do Angels Speak?
Love letter to my future bestie
Love letter to my future bestie Photo by Park Troopers on Unsplash Monday, June 3, 2024 I am going to spare you from calling you ‘dear’. That word is simply weird. Let me get straight to the point: On Tuesday we would have breakfast together. I would ask you how slept and try to… Continue reading Love letter to my future bestie
Please, wake up and see
Please, wake up and see Amina Ghanem, 13 years old says, we were sleeping and we heard the sounds of tanks when they came and walked over the caravan in which I, my father, and my brothers lived. The tank squeezed us inside the tin all night until the morning, and when they took us… Continue reading Please, wake up and see
Criticism tastes like Xanax
Criticism tastes like Xanax Foto von Anna Shvets After briefly [or should I say constantly] being possessed by the capitalist poltergeist as I searched for Telegram groups in my city – I soon realized how I missed an opportunity to make “easy money”. I could have sold my Xanax leftovers on the black market. … Continue reading Criticism tastes like Xanax