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The acknowledgement

I’m trying to be gentle with myself, but what if I never believe my body when it tells me what happened?

Have the time of your life!*

*Common side effects may include but are not limited to: harassment, stalking, getting drugged, passing out in a cab, letter from human resources stating...

Revenge of the soul thief

You murdered my son, Abuser. Though breath still trickles out closed lips, he does not live. The twelve years since his disappearance drag by like a sea anchor pulled...

Seven of Swords

that smiling wink when he was drunk on soju, the flush of his face—giddiness that made me feel I was drunk myself. the encouraging way he taught me how...

A good sport

Don’t mean to brag, but I am a triathlete of some repute. My #metoo moment happened on one of my first races as part...

Scarlet

Pain flows through a crimson tide. Pressure of the cold steel knife. Cutting. Biting. Picture perfect, masking sadness with makeup. Pauses, only to bid him goodbye. Parting ways...

[Blood] Sodden Anguish/Deathbed Red (Fall 2017 Mood Board)

sodden anguish infiltrates interrogates fabric dips              dyes flesh scarlet towels   rags    already adorn the floor             design inspo              autumn shade auburn burgundy           the hues of after      sapphire runs obscure  ...

just like wet blood

Artwork and poetry by Ami J. Sanghvi

Tracing

“Are you ready to talk about it?” my therapist asks me for what seems to be the hundredth session in a row. “No.” “Are you ready...

Silent Night

I was fully clothed. So, Did it happen? I’ve No right to complain. They are just boys. So Not really their fault, they are Just boys. I did not cry Or...

Recommended Reading

The acknowledgement

0
I’m trying to be gentle with myself, but what if I never believe my body when it tells me what happened?

Have the time of your life!*

0
*Common side effects may include but are not limited to: harassment, stalking, getting drugged, passing out in...

To the fathers who do not abuse their daughters

2
On my street I am witness to the young men who carry the pink-flowered backpacks of little girls, who...