Mitosis

every part of my human vessel,

She unravels my brain & twirls it around her fork the brain has no nerve endings, I can ’t feel myself become an ape as she slurps me away

The sadness will never end,

yellow paint tastes like stars & daffodils when the world is black & white

I can paint the sun on a cloudy day I can paint a smile on my face

I already knew that I would die one day but I never knew the sadness would truly last forever, and that my heart has bled in every life

The Wayne Literary Review: Escapism

Emersyn Li

He pulls me beneath Moth colored sheets

We lie atop a broken clock Watching each other ' s dreams

As we slip away from the earth, The sun touches him

It caresses his brain I kiss his hollow skull,

We melt into a single cell & divide into copies

& divide until there is nothing Except for the vacuous space between us,

He dims the saturation of the room But I feel the warmth of monochrome eyes

watching me undress, he traces my nervous system with slim fingers

I feel him running up my spine, it makes planets collide

he becomes the only color in a world enveloped in greyscale

there is warmth in my empty sheets, when I feel his phantom touch lingering on my old weathered skin

The Wayne Literary Review: Escapism

i. Ghost

Grey Snyder

Earth to me, Earth to me, My friends say I' m doing it again.

I said PTSD is a promise-breaker once. All I should want is to live every day like it' s my last, but I' m living every day like it' s my last and it' s not what everyone thinks it is.

Would you hate me if I said everything is more boring than my brain fog? Am I ever really somewhere? Remind me to call my depersonalization astral projection around my witchy friends. Throw myself around the room like a voice, a distraction so my body doesn 't find me, safe around the corner while they keep chasing down the hallway.

Experiencing reality is so 2016 anyway, being present in the moment is “ cringe ” , I was so embarrassed when I was thirteen and feeling my feelings, instead of this emotional LaCroix like my entire life is three blocks over and someone is thinking really, really hard about it.

I wonder if things would be better if I could at least be my whole self for my loved ones. I' m not even my whole self for myself.

The Wayne Literary Review: Escapism

Yell to myself “Olly Olly oxen free ” , but there ' s no one there to do it. I guess I'll keep haunting everywhere I go, I guess I’ll keep haunting everywhere I go, A cold rush and the faint sense that you are not alone, At least I chose to haunt you.

Earth to me, Earth to me, Earth to me, Dig my heels into the floor in my chair. Way to land.

The Wayne Literary Review: Escapism