conception \ congestion / creation by Mia Golden

anxiety stretched over irises

till pupils dilate; clocks toll

necromancy hour, hours in

advance. breathe in hyaline

uncertainties; choke on

tangible apprehension as

you stare at vacant eyes that

haunt you from the mirror.

who’s the fairest of them all?

and saliva is your last defense

against the fractured-ceramic

stream of consciousness battering

your synapses. phalanges grasp

premonition and swallow it

whole; asphyxiation is inevitable

when you try to digest metaphysics.

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Mia is a teen writer from the West Coast. She is fascinated by the meanings words can carry and has a passion for discovering new things. In her free time, she likes to read, drink hot chocolate, and play with her dog. She is an editor for the Interstellar Literary Review.