Special Issue: Mental Health

This page provides a brief description of each work in this special issue. To go to a work directly, click the bolded titles. Katie Larson, “Make Peace” A micro poem about emotional vulnerability. Jason Alex Grey, “Valleys” A micro poem about knowing oneself and when it’s time to change your surroundings. Rynn Myles, “Slow Down” A poem for the people who learned how to survive everything except themselves. Sara Vogler, “Moments of the Everyday” A reflective poem on intentiona

The first issue of Voices Unheard began as a school project geared toward a public-facing audience. I wanted to create a platform where people could feel heard through creative expression, even if it was through my silly little project. And yet, six months later, Voices Unheard is a real, ISBN-registered publication, with four issues coming out this year alone (maybe more at the rate of submissions!). I have received so much support and so many submissions from talented peopl

And what am I without my bruised and bloodied mouth stuffed full of stars? And would I swap sight for tender touch; trace a forgiving finger over the peaks and valleys of my soul? With insurmountable grief, could I admit that my love is bigger?

Don't let it pass you by you said when all those thoughts come speeding, crashing through your head. Don't let it run you down, you know. these city lights, they tend to blur before they show.

Slow down Breathe Take a moment with me To feel the air on your skin Your feet pressing into the ground The beating of your heart pumping Smell The scent of your clothes The room you are in The grass outside The weather that's coming Look and see The colors around you That surrounds your routines The sun in the sky The dirt on the ground The smile that once lit up the room That's now faded and flat But we keep pushing, right? Pushing for the next big thing The next accomplish

Every day that I wake up, Is a moment to see the world in a different light, To see the world a little better. Little lighter. Slowing down Has recaptured my walk. My breath towards the light, Winter becomes spring Blossoms are everywhere Maybe that’s why my feelings are so. But even Albert Camus reminds me That “In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me There lay an invincible summer.” I will add that even more, An invincible season. Studying stoics every day

This work is featured in Volume 1 of Survivor’s Magazine, https://www.survivorsmag.com/ I've stared into the face of death, I won’t bother to hold my breath, Exhale the smoke. Inhale, feel the burn in ya chest I came out on the other side; I passed the test Stay rockin’ with me, I'll take care of the rest. The start of my life wasn't mine to command, Came out the gutters and yet still I stand. Been through fiery trials and suffered at the hands of man. I spit in the face of a

I lost her somewhere between caretaking and Elmwood Avenue The woman with dancing feet, spontaneous beach trips, and giggling pillow talk She was supposed to stay, but I think she took a wrong turn at the altar Went from partnership to mothering, straddling to directing I lost her thrice That survivor girl with long hair, level head, and taut skin One day, I saw her approaching from afar Slowly swaying, not quite skipping over the hill On an incline she reintroduced herself S

I walk the dark street, Twisted Tea in hand, banana blood in a metal cage. Thunder eats sidewalks, spits strobe light. I can drink to forget you, to block out the rumble, I can beg you to remember. The loudest things make no sound. I listen, ear to soundproof walls, Waiting. Waiting to be heard. I send texts I regret before they finish forming, curled in sheets that smell like sweat and something ending. Thunder again. Does thunder ever get a sore throat from all the noise? D

Who are you trying to feed by emptying yourself? Grapefruit for a heart & those hands don't grow vines like they used to & your head is on backwards & you must've displeased God somehow to have gotten so tragic. But you can't remember what you did, Forced to enlist by great something, So why must you hurt yourself, soldier? Why must you surrender, Go gently into that good night for fear of what may happen in the day? The light shining like bullets on your plastic skin, & who

Do you know what it’s like to be alone I mean completely I mean utterly Truly alone Not a tweet, not a hum, not a beep from your phone Not a call, not a word, not a conversation nearby Truly alone Renting stays to stay away even longer Women in and out Tears overflowing Drugs lining tables Emotions uncontrollable Who’s this boy No, this man It--it wasn’t supposed to end up like this To be Truly alone I thought I’d grown through this pain So why am I reliving it Why am I still

I bear the burden Of those memories They scar my mind When people say “It made you stronger” But a child shouldn’t have to be strong We’re busy growing our bodies Growing our brains to maturity Learning to make mistakes Not face abuse as consequences I was unable to live those teen years I barely scraped by, let alone enjoyed them But here I am despite them Not letting the weight get to me

Sitting on my bed, A tin of razors in front of me They’re not the good kind, At least not to my preferences But they’d do it if I made that choice. The choice to reverse years of progress Suddenly I’m 13 again, As I stare at the blades Just one more time, I swear No one will see them if I'm careful No one will see them or care No one will ever see me Just one more time, I’d say to myself Before punishing my skin for living Never feeling good but always feeling right Because t

I hate you. You’re the bane of my existence And the thought of you fills my pores with dread But I love you so bad So please don’t leave me alone Because you’re the only one for me And no one can compare to you At least that’s what I thought until today Because I deserve better And you mean nothing to me So leave me alone The way everyone else eventually does But I need you And I don’t deserve your love Because I’m insufferable And I’m unworthy of such affection The bane of y

You can’t hide from your own head. Believe me, I’ve tried. Pillow after pillow; maybe the monsters can’t get me in here. But what if the monsters don’t need an invitation because they’ve already taken up residence? Dissecting piece after piece of what’s left of me - let the bell ring! Next class, please. We’ve run out of brain matter. What matters? I can’t seem to figure that one out yet. Someone wants me to know; they won’t stop asking. Yet my response is always the same - F

The therapist is asking you to pick an emotion off the wheel through the screen while you sit in the dorm room you haven’t cleaned in weeks. Stupid, you pick. Stupid stupid stupid. She makes a face and you think she feels bad for you, because she has a daughter your age, she has told you. Why do you feel that way? she asks, and her accent is like the one who ruined you. The ache inside your gut feels like fingers inside you scraping you out like a peanut butter jar that won’t

Breathe me. Don’t hand me off to the dark — it’ll eat me whole. Old. Cold. Needy. I won’t clutch at control; I want a comrade who admits the hollow is unfillable. I don’t want control — I want a friend. A friend who can’t fix the hole. Call it crude, call it ordinary, call it generic, call it unoriginal — breathe out, count down, go low — whatever. It still hurts. Breathe out. It doesn’t have to be original to be true. It’s mine. I am small, a vessel trembling with want, a fl

Breathe in for four seconds. Hold for two. Breathe out for six. Repeat. My therapist instructed me to do this technique when I was feeling overwhelmed Something that I had been feeling a lot of lately She told me that it would help keep me in the present When the “could’ve been’s” and the “could be’s” cloud my mind But I suppose it’s hard when you’ve never really seen a clear day Like when a pit forms deep in my bowels And my muscles tense so tight, a chill runs down my spine

Breathe in for four seconds. Hold for two. Breathe out for six. Repeat. My therapist instructed me to do this technique when I was feeling overwhelmed, something that I had been feeling a lot of lately. I peered over the bridge, onto the Delaware River, and imagined myself falling in, enveloped by darkness. I imagined myself struggling to breathe, sinking deeper into nothingness, until I hit the bottom and joined the rest of the forgotten knick-knacks hidden in the sandy floo

Everything is red. It’s no longer a haze of grey or the too harsh glare of the ringlight you used to film your TikToks under. Tainted. Stained. Pouring out of your wrists along with the tears. You told yourself it didn’t hurt that much, and you really thought you were getting better. But that’s the danger- by the time you realized that relapse was even a possibility, much less your current reality, it was too late. You did so well convincing yourself and others that you were