That is the question you probably ask yourself every time I see those three dots disappear.

When did this become so fucking one-sided?

When will I stop making the effort?

When will I call the time of death?

I looked at myself 

up close and personal 

in a pink heart shaped mirror 

from Urban Outfitters. 

I had never done this before 

You turned 5, and I have still partially forgotten the moment you came into the world. 5 years too late to meet the precious woman you were named after. You see, you were given your time to greet the world on the same day that we lost her. Your great grandmother. I can only think she was watching over us that day.

we met late in july

by a break in the sky

now our love is penniless art

thunder, thunder

over and under

recite the tale of my heart

They said it would be easy,

a simple walk in the park.

But I knew better,

with each step came a pounding in my head,

a weight around my arms,

a vice around my throat.

"Hello best friend!"

Scribbled on the first line,

your name,

carried in my heart,

and written on every page.

I have gotten used to invisible hands.

They held my gaze, whispered to me.

Like a phantom lover, they mesmerized me.

It has only been a short time since they touched me,

And yet I am certain I can feel them now.

I do not want to—I do.

I hear the roaring laughter of the winds as it crawls into my

Veins of fear.

What could possibly be left of the lingering thoughts of going

Somewhere far away in the Pacific ocean

Where no human feet are traced

It often needs a trigger warning, yet it happens every day. Often in homes, behind closed doors, sibling to sibling is the most common method - as heart breaking as that is to hear, it’s completely true. I suffered more than once with being victimised. But not at home, at school. A close school friend of mine, let’s call her Lara - for data protection reasons, abused me.

Following the successful launch of her second published poetry book, Wings Unfurled, we were overjoyed to speak with poet and author Libby Jenner about her poetry inspiration, writing process, and how poetry has been a powerful tool to help her with mental health and to heal traumas.

Do you know what it was/is to be in love? It was that spot in the woods by the park that is always filled with sunlight. The spot with the fairy garden that I took them to before they asked me to date them, like really date them. It was warmth and soup broth, it was a bath in some ways but not others. It is straining my eyes because I’m trying to peer into a wolf’s den or peering out of a cave and not straining my eyes because it’s night already. It is feeling like I was slapped in the face, and then wishing I had actually been slapped in the face because physical wounds are tangible. It is sobbing so hard I shake in my parked car the day after, before work, alone.

I forget myself in the melancholy of times,

where the arrows are like scissors

When She looked at the dragon, it seemed to her like air dissolved in hopes, blue, blue, shimmering like a garland and this attracted, like a moth to the radiance…

This Modern Struggle Magazine had the honour of speaking with artist and writer Irina Tall and sharing her unique artwork.

She shares her artistic journey, her creative process, the powerful meanings behind her work and the way that art can inspire and influence.

Thank you so much to Irina for taking the time to share her creativity and insights with us.

This Modern Struggle Magazine had the absolute privilege of speaking with artist Aleena Sharif and sharing her inspirational artwork.

She shares her artistic journey, her creative process, and how the power of painting the nude female form helps to promote body confidence and self-love for herself and other women.

Thank you so much to Aleena for creating representative pieces and a safe space to share nude paintings.

sweet chamomile tea

now made bitter with the

mint leaves

tricked by the sweet scent i

slowly mix them in

Life is hard but so am I

I won’t give up, I will not die,

And even when my brain goes mad

I’ll carry on, I won’t be sad.

Darkness seems to follow me a lot… a shadow that’s present, even when the light shines through, it never seems to absorb it at all. Darkness is like daylight savings; it starts off and ends in darkness. That hour back barely makes any difference at all. I walk around with my eyes open, but I mind as well walk around with them closed; because at least I know the doors are shut and nobody can see into them.

When I was in my 20s, I used to dislike the idea of reaching 30. I always associated being 30 with being old (I am sorry to anyone I have hurt by saying this!)

However, now that I am in my 30s, as much as I wish I were in my 20s, I do think there is a lot of power in this new decade of my life. When I was 28-29 years old, I used to have conversations with people who were already in their 30s about how I should approach this new phase of my life.

A few things I was told are that the 30s are the most beautiful years of a woman’s life: she is confident, unapologetic, and daring.