Issue 7 |Daughter, Devoured

Catastasis 

I've done nothing all summer but listened to that one track from Pierce The Veil "so far so fake" waiting for myself to be myself again. July blistered the sidewalks into grass and I still couldn't find my face in the mirror only a wet moth, banging it's skull against fluorescent time. Now it's mid-August and I swear my mouth keeps curling up like a paper receipt in a trash fire. but at least yes at least I'm young until September. What a miserable comfort- as if my eyes wont betray me again on the 27th of September streaming tears like it's a ritual the calendar tearing a fresh wound where I'm supposed to celebrate.

I press 'publish' anyway- because Sylvia taught me a diary is only holy once the world can eavesdrop.

7 | issue 7

August 16, 2025 ❤