A students' magazine for mental health advocacy




Look over there—

        the walls are screaming

Quick, hurry


before it’s too late,

before the walls disappear or

        you do    Don’t miss it,

counters don’t clean themselves



don’t look now,

the ceiling isn’t there anymore


        Look at all the blood,





Think about what you could’vedoneand
didn’t, think about what you should’vedoneand
couldn’t, think about whoyoucouldbe and
aren’t, think about how you are, questionif
you can be anythingdifferent


Close the blinds to morning

Light     Let it back in, only

if you’ve scrubbed out the stains


Don’t thank yourself
for finding something you lost


Thank yourself

for singing along to

fingernails scraping on shingles,

sanding, the floor dragging

hair of hold back


Forget that your body is your home    


Think about how someone else rearranged

the furniture with your permission


Blame yourself for not being

able to find blueprints you swear you put
right here


last week,

last month,

last year—

Think about how you changed

interior design without asking

the tenant if that was okay


Don’t stop thinking about it    Remember
you’re not supposed to think like this    Think
of how you were before    Can't?
don’t trust yourself, just to make things harder
Nothing worthwhile will be easy    Make
everything harder than it is    You make
everything harder than it is   


There isn’t anything

that isn’t something


Nothing makes sense, let this
overwhelm you   Understand we make
our lives more complicated than
they are, but don’t stop complicating


Life is simple    Let this soak into
pulses of restless metronome,

the motion of matter you claim as body


I don't know where any of the doors lead to,
I haven't left the kitchen     I'm too afraid someone knows
where I keep the knives      I sit in front of the drawer,
eye the refrigerator      Make sure the cold is keeping

produce fresh, roots from rotting, and filets from


bleeding out.


Go ahead


complicate every situation

in search of the safest way
to smother your




CJ West is a writer and spoken word poet. As a junior at Emerson College, they study a self-created major in Performance Poetry. They don’t care what your parents think of their tattoos, and won’t work for people who tell them how to exist. Their favorite things are cats, bread, and women. All of which are out to get them. They don’t know how to heal the world yet but they hope to leave life laughing because things finally feel light.