Shevaun Brannigan
Committed

Shevaun Brannigan - Committed

Poetry
Shevaun Brannigan is a graduate of the Bennington Writing Seminars, as well as The Jiménez-Porter Writers’ House at The University… Read more »
Jeff Whitney
Meteors

Jeff Whitney - Meteors

Poetry
Jeff Whitney is the author of five chapbooks, two of which were co-written with Philip Schaefer. His poems can be… Read more »
Andrew Collard
Portrait With Elegy And Iodine

Andrew Collard - Portrait With Elegy And Iodine

Poetry
Andrew Collard lives in Kalamazoo, MI, where he attends grad school and teaches. His recent poems are forthcoming in Mid-American… Read more »
Audrey Gradzewicz
Song of Marshall Applewhite

Audrey Gradzewicz - Song of Marshall Applewhite

Poetry
Audrey Gradzewicz was born in Buffalo, New York. Her poems have been published by, or are forthcoming from, Southern Indiana… Read more »
Rebecca Bornstein
Summer Vacation

Rebecca Bornstein - Summer Vacation

Poetry
Rebecca Bornstein is a poet and worker currently living in Portland, Oregon. She’s held jobs as a production cook, professional… Read more »
Devon Miller-Duggan
Tales

Devon Miller-Duggan - Tales

Poetry
Devon Miller-Duggan has published poems in Rattle, Shenandoah, Margie, Christianity and Literature, and Gargoyle. She teaches Creative Writing at the… Read more »
Gail Martin
Their Shapes Determined By How Cold The Air

Gail Martin - Their Shapes Determined By How Cold The Air

Poetry
Gail Martin is the author of two books, Begin Empty-Handed (Perugia Press) and The Hourglass Heart (New Issues). A Michigan… Read more »

Committed

Shevaun Brannigan

None of it was weird. All of it was normal. Everyone feels like this sometimes. She gestures, the gauze,
the blood seeping, to her face, bruised from hitting herself, like this? I said yes.

Washing my hands in her bathroom and wanting to curl up on the tile, feel it against my cheek. Only
part of my brain. The body hurrying to get back to her. Small hands below the water, my mother
and her pills, my mother and her suicide notes on the mirror in lipstick.


*

Officer Nguyen and Officer Nguyen seem unconcerned.

Officer Nguyen and Officer Nguyen are not related, the short and overweight Officer Nguyen tells me,
pointing at Officer Nguyen, tall, thin, and handsome. I nod.

Officer Nguyen asks for a description. Her boyfriend has no photos.

It’s cold, we all keep saying, the apartment window open.

I tell her therapist this reminds me of my mother. He tells me I’m a pro.

Sleeping that night, four hours maybe, no dreams. Just jerking awake, an opened window. Where is she,
I thought. In Baltimore? In… Read more »