Hannah Cruz

Hannah (they/them) is a small creature made of moss located somewhere in the Midwest, a poet, and occasional performer. They like making things by hand, video games, and walking their dog right as the sun is going down. You can read more of their poems in Chaotic Merge Magazine.

Easy read of the poems in the images above:

after seven months of no contact I speak to my father on the phone for 15 minutes. that night I experience a full body migraine for the first time in almost a year:

it started like an itch

at the back of my skull,

after hanging up the phone

by midday it was an ache

fastened to my shoulders like epaulets.

I’ve compared myself to a soldier before.

by nightfall I was crawling

around the apartment in the dark

I knelt in the shower until I felt my blood again

I couldn’t speak, I took tiny sips of salted water.

acupressure spikes pressed their glyphs

into my flesh

in bed I saw this pain above me like a demon.

it had a monkey jaw and was contorted by darkness

I cried at its face. so ugly

and mine. I cried because it was mine.