Voices

Welcome to Voices — a space for voices from the unheard.

Here, we don’t polish pain to make it palatable. We publish it as it is: fractured, searching, rising. These are the stories that often go unnoticed — the inner worlds of those who’ve lived through silence, stigma, and survival. Voices isn’t just a page; it’s a platform for truth. Whether whispered or screamed, every word here belongs to someone who refused to stay quiet. Welcome to the voices of the unheard.

  • Knives

    His nerves are sharpand jumpy from speedas he whets the bladeof his fillet knife.He hasn’t workedin more than a week,and he blew…

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  • Comrades

    Mike was the only kid in grade school who used a power wheelchair. His shyness and soft-spoken nature faded him into the…

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  • Lost or Stolen or Strayed

    Dear Mom:These are the first two wordsOf a letter my therapist wants me to write.He says it could be—Or is itShould be?—An…

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  • As You Are About To Find Out

    I am a nocturnal survivor.My recall experiences excel.What is mistaken as a dead end,is flawed territorial experience.The language, hard and harsh,spills the…

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  • Ger After Words?

    Buz RIP Though I’ve thought lots about death yet not much regards how survivors hold me when gone afterward, now with my…

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  • The Babylon Project

    Jenny from the projects,lives in subsidized housing,drugs outlawedlike open cells and black truthin little white lines on the glass coffee table. She’s…

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  • The Tree

    The scene stayed in her mind. Some images grew sharper. Some smells too. Others faded, like shapes dissolving into fog. It was…

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  • Bonita in 1973

    Something new to talk with Dr. Shapiro about: A few days after Nixon ordered the troops home from Vietnam, Daniel met Bonita…

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  • The Ocean Floor of My Life

    So far, most of themorning, I’ve been studyingthe deep-sea map ofwater-stains on my bedroomceiling, wonderinghow the ocean floor of mylife could, inversely,become…

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  • Morning Walks Through The Cemetery

    The old dog lifts aleg on several headstonesas he leads the oldman on their morning walk throughthe cemetery where manyof his old…

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“We don’t seek perfection. We seek truth.”

📜 The Broken Spine Journal
Where raw voices are heard.

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