Graphic by Kelly (She/Her) I’m in a department store trying on clothes and they all fit in the technical sense, not too tight and in colors that make my eyes pop and my mother tells me I look beautiful, so…
Creative Writing
sangre, stranger
Graphic by Christopher Ikonomou (Xe/He) Hola, mija. The tinny speakerphone rings through our shoebox apartment; I look up at the sound and see that a work week’s worth of tension has melted from my mother’s shoulders now that she’s heard…
a letter to my love
Photo by Zoë Collins (she/her) Accompanied by Seethers’ Careless Whisper – Listen Now i want to meet you in a different universe.i’m not sure if i’m ready to meet you in this one. i’m not sure if i will ever…
If Walls Could Talk…
Photo by Zoë Collins (she/her) My hand drifted up against the wallFeeling each subtle groove and bumpInteract with my fingerprints,As if the wall was telling me a story,And I listened and told a story back. The wall said it knew…
a queer friend in need
Graphic by Chrys Marr (She/They) sometimes you just need a queer friend in your life. a queer friend that is always by your side. someone that checks on you to see if you’re okay. someone that is always there to listen…
text me back!
Graphic by Steph Liu (She/Her) touch me like I’m not a friend. Don’t touch me on the shoulder; or Do, as long as you mean it like “i want you” and not like i told a joke and you’re just…
Permission
Illustrated by Cole Lopez (They/Them) Called me by my name for the first time Today My name Given as a long-awaited gift Murmured under held breath A breath exhaled After decades of holding something sacred to a silent heart frightening…
Resisting Norms, Redefining Identity
Illustrated by Steph Liu (She/Her) categories, categories, categories boy or girlmale or femalegay or straight the world loves to categorize,put us in a boxabsolve us of who we arediminish our rainbow splattered paintinginto a blank, white canvas. rip out our individuality,…
Holding On to Let Go
Photo by Zoë Collins (She/Her) She felt the presence approach her before she heard the sand shifting beside her head. “This isn’t like you.” She opened her eyes to a half squint. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she responded. “Come…
wherever you are
Photo by Zoë Collins (She/Her) come out. come out. the voices only murmur, but they reverberate along the walls, amplifying with every echo as they reach your ears. it’s a call. it’s a threat. come out. come out. the shiver…