the head is a container for the brain and it is
a most round and perfect crystal ball,
full of sense and stability.
a most round and perfect crystal ball…
mine must have cracked
bit by bit by bit
over time. because
the length of the cracks are too long to have happened at once
to have let the sense and stability pour out of my brain in this way, i think.
year-long cracks dancing through a crystal skull.
how do i heal the cracks in my crystal ball?
who will bring back my sense? and my stability?
i hear there are others with cracks
i hear they exist in the shadows, both hiding from others in shame
and hidden by others in shame.
i want them to exist and be of no existence
because if they are of existence then it makes sense that i exist too.
but if they are of no existence then the pain i suffer from
is not the terrible epidemic it seems it could be.
if the pain i suffer from is the terrible epidemic it seems it could be
then maybe my most round and perfect crystal ball
was never so round and perfect in the first place.
because maybe no ones is.
Artist credit: Christine Ochefu
Browse the full print issue here ❤
Sweet-thang issue three, May 2018