Ireland

 by Aine Ganly

i was an afterthought

skepticism soldified deep within me
when he butchered my name for the third time.
two syllables too many, i thought.
my name foreign to his tongue
and probably his mind.

by Manaal Ismacil

My Journal

by Aine Ganly

Strange Hobbies

Originally appeared in the March 28th issue of The Newspaper

by Rhiannon White

Cressy Series

by Lilia Clarke

some people are kiddie pools

if someone holds your brokenness or fracturedness as a 
definite reflection of your character,
they are not worth your divine energy or your holy breath.
pity em' and wish em' well because,
shallowness and lack of depth is a disease that can only be cured in
solitude. 

by Manaal Ismacil

Love Thy Mother

mixed media collage from the series Archetypes

by Jane Alice Keachie

Our Sexual Harness

Having tits, an ass and hips is a huge responsibility.

Not only do these assets biologically prepare us for sex but they also sexualize the hell out of you.

Which is great.

But it also means that if we wanna be taken seriously in this big, bad world, learning how to tame and unleash the wild beast that makes up our sexuality is essential - at least if you wanna live a life where the majority of guys don't play, objectify or disrespect you.

I learnt that the long, hyper-sexualised & insecure way. 

It started when I realized that guys were noticing me - well, noticing me if that skirt was a little shorter, if that top was little more see-through and that back a little more backless. 

Guys would stare, smile, wolf-whistle - you know that whole shebang. And I don't know about you, but if you're insecure that kind of illusory attentions feels good. 

My daily self-esteem was based on that "street" feedback.

No stares?

Obviously not enough skin.

The same started to apply to going out. A “successful” night would depend on how many guys tried to hit on me or how many I could get with.

Then there comes this point where you realize you've been played multiple times, that the few guy friends you have are either waiting to get with you (or are gay) and the people who are checking you out on the street are people who you would never want anything to do with.

Trying to be attractive becomes unattractive.

And that's not cool.

You know what is?

Harnessing your sexuality. Being able to both leash and unleash it when we want, how we want and to who we want.

That way we, as humans, can become attractive – not our lack of clothes.

And that's nice... being treated as a human.

by Lola van Damme

by Rhiannon White

poems about boys who suck: in three parts

i.

cold that night

i curled to you. 

reflexive, you turned away, 

your sleep revealing

your back - an expanse

cutting up the sheets. 

“i can’t sleep on my side.” 

that night i heard the howling

of all those girls - 

ii.

i miss the you

two years ago, your

hair a string -

miss the salt

of your neck,

the hallways

in your house.

less of you then, you

kissed me, quick,

and i knew.

iii. 

you’ll scare him, a little.

shake his hand tighter than

guilt, see the pink of her

thighs rise in his throat

like a face you can’t forget. 

when you meet him, be kind.

the kindness you might offer 

someone whose name isn’t 

lodged somewhere deep and 

alone in your throat. 

by Gabrielle Flood