issue 1: New Beginnings 

Yellow Door

Heather Krueger

I wasn’t yet wearing a bra
and neither was she. I know hunger

and how it hurts. I know the ache
for another. It was the first time I knew

something was wrong with me. I felt it
in the cold locker room with the yellow

door. We changed in silence but everything
inside me was fire. I had already learned

to disappear. It’s like that, when
the first smell you remember is fire

of alcohol and breath and Jesus—
now, I am haunted and hollow. Every day

my body grows softer and I wish I could tell you
it’s been easier. I wish I could tell you fire

keeps me warm and I believe in fate
and I know happily ever after.

Yellow light tumbles through the door.

Heather Krueger (she/they) is a deep-hearted poet whose work explores the farmlife of her childhood, trauma, divorce, and coming out as queer late in life. She recently graduated from The Writer’s Studio at Simon Fraser University under the mentorship of Rob Taylor and Pocket MFA under the mentorship of Jose Hernandez Diaz. She lives on Treaty 7 territory, the traditional territories of the Blackfoot Confederacy (Siksika, Kainai, Piikani), the Tsuut’ina, the Îyâxe Nakoda Nations, and Métis Nation Region 3 with her two teenagers, two kittens and one fluffy dog. You can find her on IG @heatherckrueger.

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Kirsh