An apocalypse in which no one knows the end
after No One Knows the Way to Heaven by Ocean Vuong
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Image by Michael Pointner from Pexels
Sophia Pan is a Chinese-American writer from Chicago, IL. A YoungArts winner in poetry, her writing has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and is published in Aster Lit, DIALOGIST, and others. She is the Editor in Chief of Yin Literary, and wants you to know that your voice matters.
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if our tongues wear down enough maybe
the sky starts falling. As in we’ll be close enough
to sacrifice something we love: at the edge
throwing bread into a river of rust. Lacing our
poison and free-falling from golden gates
. The best probiotic. You could almost call it sweet,
taste this thing called hoping that fireflies
wait on the horizon line for nothing.
because it’s not pre-written in a novel. But
we can get there anyways. There as in
when the stars burn. As in there’s only one way
of going mad. Cling-wrapping tears and
bootstraps extra tight. Blindfolded pill
and hitting the ground as freedom, guttural
fear for the things that get better when they
hear our heart. A tunnel being just a tunnel so we