[POETRY]

[12/31/25]

HOLLOWPOINT

by Sarah Cristine

The rain falling onto the skylight like dog piss. Steaming steady stream. Then drips and drabs. I couldn’t stay awake, every part of me blurring into another part of me so that when I moved to scratch my face I felt it on my stomach. I went inside myself and found rooms that opened onto more empty rooms. The walls grey and thin like butcher paper. Endless doors. Behind them nothing but cardboard boxes full of sour air. It all so felt trite I had to say it out loud: Ridiculous cliches. You can do better. It wasn’t until later on that I remembered that something being real doesn’t always make it true. But by then it was too late. When you got home you found me lying in the same position I’d been in when you’d left. You said Jesus Christ babe. What the hell is wrong with you. I said When it’s cold it’s one thing but when it’s wet that’s another. And really I didn’t even know I’d have to tell you that. It was something I thought you might just understand.

SARAH CRISTINE is a poet & writer from Los Angeles. Her poem ‘11th Commandment,’ published under the name ‘S. Cristine,’ was recently nominated for the 2025 Best of the Net Anthology by BRUISER magazine. She is very happy to be here. IG @sxcristine / X @standrdbrunette