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redrosethorns journal
Conscious raising, frequently utilised by feminists, involves individuals sharing their experiences to enhance awareness of social, personal, and political matters. This method has proven highly effective in fostering unity, building communities, and shedding light on broader issues affecting diverse demographics worldwide. It's a means of expressing our identities and experiences, ultimately empowering us.
Inspired by this approach, redrosethorns launched an online journal publication aimed at facilitating conversations about mental health, gender, sexuality, self-care, and empowerment.
ISSN: 2978-5316 (online)
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A Peculiar Pain
With all the time in the world,
I pick open the cabinets
inside my head where I had stored
memories deemed fit to excavate
for a later day. I think of cities I lost,
relationships made and turned to dust,
Sameen Shakya
Jan 232 min read
Catch and Release
The architect’s eyes were deep blue glacial pools. I stared too long, fell in, started drowning and discovered that I love water. He was intrigued when he saw me flail, but kept his balance.
Sarah Flick
Jan 232 min read
Hope
is a lick of chokecherry
as the cold grub hoe
bristles with
Candice M. Kelsey
Jan 231 min read
In My Sleep
You thought I was awake
Apparently
You thought it was fine
Chloe Roxburgh
Jan 231 min read
Consume Me
I am an aching chasm of neediness. I am a black hole of consumption. I am an empty void.
Fill me.
I live in the cracks between dichotomies and juxtaposition. Dancing in the spaces of
obsession. Tiptoeing around the edges of self-loathing.
Chloe Roxburgh
Jan 231 min read
I Like Men
I like men tall and soft
I like them real and unfiltered
I like a scar I can trace with my tongue
Stretchmarks I can finger like a road map
Their body telling me their story
Chloe Roxburgh
Jan 231 min read
Games Night
He was a nice man
Who smelt like oranges
Just trying his best
He threw the card box
Later apologised
Smoothing out it’s misshapen form
Chloe Roxburgh
Jan 231 min read
Grief
Every few hours my body is transformed by grief.
My insides liquify and disappear completely, replaced by aching sobs.
I wretch.
My face is disfigured.
It’s angry, red, swollen, wet, almost unrecognisable in its anguish.
My eyes meet those in the mirror and I dissolve all over again. I cannot face her.
Chloe Roxburgh
Jan 232 min read
Fresh
Freshest of writers she
proudly displayed bloody sheets
of poetry proof she was no longer
a virgin in her craft
Joanne Gram
Jan 231 min read
Rain Woman
…around her. Today,
there’s no rain yet.
But everything’s wet
enough to stay
hopeful that some-
how it will come
back to the rain
Rick K. Reut
Jan 231 min read
Learning to Fly
You must fall before you can fly.
I was often overlooked and underseen as a child, but when I was seen, it was for all the wrong reasons. Like when my fourth-grade teacher wrote on my report card that I had a ‘defeatist attitude,’ I leaned into it, quitting every chance I got, every time things got too hard.
Jenny Morelli
Dec 19, 20253 min read
Borders of the Heart: Lessons in Grief, Love and Freedom
We have all heard the phrase, “You just need to let go,” spoken with the serene certainty of a therapist, a wise aunt, or a well-meaning friend, as if the words themselves contained some secret medicine. “Let go of clutter,” they say—the dusty boxes, the broken promises of projects never finished. Let go of toxic people whose presence leaves you diminished. Let go of jobs that drain the soul, roles that stunt growth.
Margarita Dale
Dec 19, 20258 min read
Alienectomy
What a twisted treat it would be
For our bodies to clash grotesquely
Mustn’t think on it too much
Parts of me still long for your touch
Sonia Bhojani
Dec 19, 20252 min read
The Anxious Thing Inside
It’s hard to believe my mum when she says that I never had a twin. Because there’s something inside me, buried deep within. It’s like its own person, a sibling of sorts. It’s trying to protect me whilst offering worrying thoughts. Am I being punished for consuming it as it consumes me? That’s the only thing that could make sense, you see.
Holly Pratt
Dec 19, 20252 min read
My Adoption Story
I have always spoken frankly about the fact that I was adopted. My parents were very open about it, which made me feel very comfortable mentioning it to others, whether in casual conversation with acquaintances or more in-depth heart-to-hearts with dear friends. It’s understandable that people are curious. The most common question is, “Did you ever want to find your birth mother?” Every time I reply, “No.”
Karen A. Adams
Dec 19, 20256 min read
Naked in a Lake: Body Liberation and Self-Discovery in Berlin
A man whose name I can’t remember called, “I’m heading to the lake. It’s a beautiful day; you should join me. It’ll be fun. There are some nice FKK beaches.”
That invitation would have been much more unusual if this were back in the US. (It was still uncommon in Berlin because this was a first date!) But in this part of Germany, almost every public beach has a nude or Freikörperkultur (FKK - Free Body Culture ) section.
Laurianna Murray
Dec 19, 20256 min read
The Life-Size Drawing
“He died last night.”
My dad told my sister and me this at 5:00 a.m., the morning my grandpa on my dad’s side passed away. My sister broke down into big sobs, and I cried quietly, my small body shaking in my mom’s arms. I was seven years old, I didn’t know what dying meant.
Jenna Hensel
Dec 19, 20255 min read
Rocket Fuel
Highest octave, riding high
You’ve fallen in love again!
Rocket fuel, wings that fly
Kaylee Baucom
Dec 19, 20251 min read
Sin Eating
I took a bite. Just a bite.
The sour under taste moved about my heart.
It was a taste I understood
through my own hunger.
It had the salt of tears
and the bitterness of wormwood.
Christine Emmert
Dec 19, 20251 min read
Prior to Midnight
The drip of darkness
against the windowpane
distracts me from slumber.
I would awake your memory further
with the magic of my pen,
but some sleeping is forever
Christine Emmert
Dec 19, 20251 min read
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