Founded in the fall of 1991, Laurel Moon is Brandeis' oldest, national literary publication. Each issue we publish features original work from undergraduate students.
Maw of the night, a sweet nothing black studded with stars yawns above me.
I lay with my boyfriend in the wet grass, my bed at home waiting and puckered
with pillows. He kisses the shell of my ear and whispers sweet nothings like
“There is no one else for me.” There has been. There will be. I pop a purple pill
with beetle wing casing. Take a couple every night and dissolve into a shower of
glow-in-the-dark stars. The pills are for my sweet nothing sadness, blood borne,
my mother, father, and sister all. During the day I wear bracelets that press against
my wrists to remind me you’re here, you’re here, you’re real. What’s real is nothing.
Nothing that birthed me, nothing that is me, nothing that kills me. Nothing that pins
me like a moth against the velvet sky’s display-case. Stars that pushpin my torso.
My ex-boyfriends that introduced me as “my nothing”. I’m a saccharine plastic
star with a metallic aftertaste. There’s nothing to swallow, nothing swallows me.
Stella Stocker is a senior at Bradley University studying English, Creative Writing, and Ethics. Her work can be found in journals such as Folio, Broadside, Violet Margin, and Loomings Literary Journal. She loves to spend her spare time writing, painting, and baking.