THE WORLD THAT NEVER WAS - Attem 12

urmur... A friend?" I hush to myself, surprised that I even know that infernal word. "Why yes, and they wait for you, wait for you in the Chamber of Repose!" other television suddenly appears in front of me. I quickly glance behind me, doing a short swivel of my torn body. The retro TV has moved in front of me ain... Or did I ever move in the first place? "The Chamber of Repose, where the Black Rose awaits and Murmur plays, hoping with each passing moment that s time, you stay!" The TV shuts off again. It felt ominous this time around as its archetypical commercial voice became almost mocking. I walked backwards s time in what I was sure was me still moving forward, keeping my eyes on the maddening box. A few meters and I turned around to walk straight into the clone. Half of me was expecting some sort of jumpscare when turning my body forward again. Nope, just the continuous howl of the wind, a tortured aria for e Heartless. This voice is familiar, but who is it? "You're bleeding! What happened!?" I look up to see my social worker. She has tears in her eyes and strain elled out across her face. Her dark brown skin is painted with sweat, droplets spilling from the tip of her nose. I am beginning to grasp the world around me ain. Beneath me is pavement and a pool of my own blood in which I'm sprawled on top of, my face throbbing as it tries to make sense of the night sky. I hear ens in the distance and a parade of flashing lights. "It hurts. Everything hurts." I say this with no emotion while looking into her eyes. "You ran away from us ain. Don't move. Help is almost here!" My social worker explains how I tend to wander in the same areas when running off and hallucinating. This time, I had ought scissors that I'd stolen from the kitchen, digging and slicing their blades across my torso repeatedly. I had no idea these events were happening, efully focused on finding Murmur, my mystery friend. She is holding my head up and propping it with something soft. My head hurts again and my mind ases out into my own darkness. No landscape takes shape and no voices beckon for me. I don't dream or tangle with any thoughts. I let the void of my mind t sit, bathing in its own hollowness. It's nothing but silence once more.After what felt like centuries, I'm engulfed in a flash of brilliant colours. Pinks, yellows, rples, and reds. I also feel softness all around me and many eyes of comfort surrounding me: my plushie palz. A surge of unexpected happiness takes hold d I let myself feel the comfort of my toy friends, reaching out to the closest ones to snuggle with. It's only then that I realize that I'm back in my room, my Sky cus. I press the red button beside my bed to call the staff, my head filled with my questions. I finally notice the bandages across my stomach and chest along h their soreness. I feel shame for I've done it again. In my heart, I flail and fail, scry and cry, never understanding why I'm like this. Why I seek out my own d.In a sudden chorus, the voices in my head call out to me. "We are - I am - We have... No memory. Of what came to be, what might have been, or what never s. I wish to be whole... Of heart, mind, and body. For nothing else is a lingering darkness that tugs on the tendrils of our empty shell.” Where there was once mfort, it's been quickly overtaken by an inexplicable impulse of anger and sorrow. I then hear the doorknob rattle as it's unlocked by the staff. My personal pport worker comes in with a smile. "Gemma! You're finally awake, dear! How are you feeling? Are you hungry?" I look up at her briefly before breaking down o tears and curling into a ball. Sobbing intensely, I wish my last attempt at killing myself had worked. My only escape from a life of blurred realities and rrifying truths.without further interruption and no anomalous voices, I am finally in the middle of the immense wind. To my surprise, there is no major tug on y body from the circling gusts. Instead, it's just dead quiet. The movements of debris, wind, metal, all of it. Not a sound or pull. Just a small little door in the ound that was like a medieval trap door in a castle. It looked very withered and the wood was already heavily splintered. bit of body textNo landscape takes ape and no voices beckon for me. I don't dream or tangle with any thoughts. I let the void of my mind just sit, bathing in its own hollowness. It's nothing but ence once more.After what felt like centuries, I'm engulfed in a flash of brilliant colours. Pinks, yellows, purples, and reds. I also feel softness all around me and any eyes of comfort surrounding me: my plushie palz. A surge of unexpected happiness takes hold and I let myself feel the comfort of my toy friends, reaching t to the closest ones to snuggle with. It's only then that I realize that I'm back in my room, my Sky Circus. I press the red button beside my bed to call the staff, y head filled with my questions. I finally notice the bandages across my stomach and chest along with their soreness. I feel shame for I've done it again. In my art, I flail and fail, scry and cry, never understanding why I'm like this. Why I seek out my own end. In a sudden chorus, the voices in my head call out to me. e are - I am - We have... No memory. Of what came to be, what might have been, or what never was. I wish to be whole... Of heart, mind, and body. For nothing e is a lingering darkness that tugs on the tendrils of our empty shell.” Where there was once comfort, it's been quickly overtaken by an inexplicable impulse of ger and sorrow. I then hear the doorknob rattle as it's unlocked by the staff. My personal support worker comes in with a smile. "Gemma! You're finally awake, ar! How are you feeling? Are you hungry?" I look up at her briefly before breaking down into tears and curling into a ball. Sobbing intensely, I wish my last empt at killing myself had worked. My only escape from a life of blurred realities and horrifying truths. No landscape takes shape and no voices beckon for me. on't dream or tangle with any thoughts. I let the void of my mind just sit, bathing in its own hollowness. It's nothing but silence once more.After what felt like nturies, I'm engulfed in a flash of brilliant colours. Pinks, yellows, purples, and reds. I also feel softness all around me and many eyes of comfort surrounding : my plushie palz. A surge of unexpected happiness takes hold and I let myself feel the comfort of my toy friends, reaching out to the closest ones to snuggle h. It's only then that I realize that I'm back in my room, my Sky Circus. I press the red button beside my bed to call the staff, my head filled with my questions. I ally notice the bandages across my stomach and chest along with their soreness. I feel shame for I've done it again. In my heart, I flail and fail, scry and cry, ver understanding why I'm like this. Why I seek out my own end.In a sudden chorus, the voices in my head call out to me. "We are - I am - We have... No mory. Of what came to be, what might have been, or what never was. I wish to be whole... Of heart, mind, and body. For nothing else is a lingering darkness at tugs on the tendrils of our empty shell.” Where there was once comfort, it's been quickly overtaken by an inexplicable impulse of anger and sorrow. I then ar the doorknob rattle as it's unlocked by the staff. My personal support worker comes in with a smile. No landscape takes shape and no voices beckon for me. on't dream or tangle with any thoughts. I let the void of my mind just sit, bathing in its own hollowness. It's nothing but silence once more. After what felt like nturies, I'm engulfed in a flash of brilliant colours. Pinks, yellows, purples, and reds. I also feel softness all around me and many eyes of comfort surrounding : my plushie palz. A surge of unexpected happiness takes hold and I let myself feel the comfort of my toy friends, reaching out to the closest ones to snuggle h. It's only then that I realize that I'm back in my room, my Sky Circus. I press the red button beside my bed to call the staff, my head filled with my questions. I ally notice the bandages across my stomach and chest along with their soreness. I feel shame for I've done it again. In my heart, I flail and fail, scry and cry, ver understanding why I'm like this. Why I seek out my own end.In a sudden chorus, the voices in my head call out to me. "We are - I am - We have... No mory. Of what came to be, what might have been, or what never was. I wish to be whole... Of heart, mind, and body. For nothing else is a lingering darkness at tugs on the tendrils of our empty shell.” Where there was once comfort, it's been quickly overtaken by an inexplicable impulse of anger and sorrow. I then ar the doorknob rattle as it's unlocked by the staff. My personal support worker comes in with a smile. "Gemma! You're finally awake, dear! How are you ling? Are you hungry?" I look up at her briefly before breaking down into tears and curling into a ball. Sobbing intensely, I wish my last attempt at killing yself had worked. My only escape from a life of blurred realities and horrifying truths. a lingering darkness that tugs on the tendrils of our emt

THE WORLD THAT NEVER WAS

GEMMA STARLIGHT OF THE DARK STAR

THE WORLD THAT NEVER WAS

அ ற் ற ம் 1 2

Dream. Drop. Distance.

With sharp words I've forced other Women of Colour To turn their backs On my nonsensical Desperate pleas To be set free.

Now I sit In hungering Isolation, The penance of My cruel Sentence of Their kindness.

For every little tear, A litre of vile blood, To pay for my crimes Of breaking my own heart, And killing myself softly With the tools of the Other.

Such as an Ampoule For the withered and torn, An injection of Lux Full of seduction and scorn, And a Golden Syringe To break my tarnished soul With a relentless twinge.

In a blanket of twisted solace and A serenade of bitter sweet sleep,

I disappear from this world. o

The 13th Vessel

My body sleeps In folds of nothingness As my mind drifts into The World That Never Was Because I could not resist My own heart's deeper darkness.

I am not the me who I lived to be, Now just a vessel of the Other Cast out upon memories that are not my own, Forever drenched in melancholic struggles, A chasm of dead dreams Where I think of lost ones from The World That Could've Been.

I wait to be filled with a heart of lux That is tragically stolen, To only be adorned with A mitre of a Nobody, A crown of the Heartless, And a choker of the Unversed.

An empty weapon I've been undone as, To wipe clean and disavow The World That Did Become, No longer can I weep To wake myself from This numbing slumber.

o

art Gemma's artworks share a unique style that expresses the world of her healing in an unconventional light. The recurring eyes, hearts, animals, moons, and spirals in her works become an invitation to a magical ride opening up our inner imaginations with recurring and interpretative symbols. The artist refuses to use dark colors - as in western cultures - to express dark subject matter, such as her trauma, grief, or psychosis which are often explored in her works. With the images she creates, she becomes a magician who leaves us in wonder about what is hidden in each of her pieces that we haven't seen yet.

artist Gemma Starlight of the Dark Star is an outspoken advocate for trans and queer rights in the Ottawa region. Most of her works acknowledge women's anger, trans and queer survivalhoods, and resistance to cis-heteropatriarchy in a framework of feminist horror.

In addition to being a visual artist and writer, Gemma is also an aspiring poet.

Add a little I realize now that the air and its strange debris are moving in a cyclonic dance, drawing me into its center. The dust around my feet follows suit in unpredictable swirls across the ground while the wreckage of street signs and blasted cars also feel the pull of the wind, their metals bending and screeching. “Murmur... A friend?" I hush to myself, surprised that I even know that infernal word. "Why yes, and they wait for you, wait for you in the Chamber of Repose!" Another television suddenly appears in front of me. I quickly glance behind me, doing a short swivel of my torn body. The retro TV has moved in front of me again... Or did I ever move in the first place? "The Chamber of Repose, where the Black Rose awaits and Murmur plays, hoping with each passing moment that this time, you stay!" The TV shuts off again. It felt ominous this time around as its archetypical commercial voice became almost mocking. I walked backwards this time in what I was sure was me still moving forward, keeping my eyes on the maddening box. A few meters and I turned around to walk straight into the cyclone. Half of me was expecting some sort of jumpscare when turning my body forward again. Nope, just the continuous howl of the wind, a tortured aria for the Heartless. This voice is familiar, but who is it? "You're bleeding! What happened!?" I look up to see my social worker. She has tears in her eyes and strain spelled out across her face. Her dark brown skin is painted with sweat, droplets spilling from the tip of her nose. I am beginning to grasp the world around me again. Beneath me is pavement and a pool of my own blood in which I'm sprawled on top of, my face throbbing as it tries to make sense of the night sky. I hear sirens in the distance and a parade of flashing lights. "It hurts. Everything hurts." I say this with no emotion while looking into her eyes. "You ran away from us again. Don't move. Help is almost here!" My social worker explains how I tend to wander in the same areas when running off and hallucinating. This time, I had brought scissors that I'd stolen from the kitchen, digging and slicing their blades across my torso repeatedly. I had no idea these events were happening, gleefully focused on finding Murmur, my mystery friend. She is holding my head up and propping it with something soft. My head hurts again and my mind phases out into my own darkness. No landscape takes shape and no voices beckon for me. I don't dream or tangle with any thoughts. I let the void of my mind just sit, bathing in its own hollowness. It's nothing but silence once more.After what felt like centuries, I'm engulfed in a flash of brilliant colours. Pinks, yellows, purples, and reds. I also feel softness all around me and many eyes of comfort surrounding me: my plushie palz. A surge of unexpected happiness takes hold and I let myself feel the comfort of my toy friends, reaching out to the closest ones to snuggle with. It's only then that I realize that I'm back in my room, my Sky Circus. I press the red button beside my bed to call the staff, my head filled with my questions. I finally notice the bandages across my stomach and chest along with their soreness. I feel shame for I've done it again. In my heart, I flail and fail, scry and cry, never understanding why I'm like this. Why I seek out my own end.In a sudden chorus, the voices in my head call out to me. "We are - I am - We have...

No memory. Of what came to be, what might have been, or what never was. I wish to be whole... Of heart, mind, and body. For nothing else is a lingering darkness that tugs on the tendrils of our empty shell.” Where there was once comfort, it's been quickly overtaken by an inexplicable impulse of anger and sorrow. I then hear the doorknob rattle as it's unlocked by the staff. My personal support worker comes in with a smile.

"Gemma! You're finally awake, dear! How are you feeling? Are you hungry?" I look up at her briefly before breaking down into tears and curling into a ball. Sobbing intensely, I wish my last attempt at killing myself had worked. My only escape from a life of blurred realities and horrifying truths.without further interruption and no anomalous voices, I am finally in the middle of the immense wind. To my surprise, there is no major tug on my body from the circling gusts. Instead, it's just dead quiet. The movements of debris, wind, metal, all of it. Not a sound or pull. Just a small little door in the ground that was like a medieval trap door in a castle. It looked very withered and the wood was already heavily splintered. bit of body textNo landscape takes shape and no voices beckon for me. I don't dream or tangle with any thoughts. I let the void of my mind just sit, bathing in its own hollowness. It's nothing but silence once more.After what felt like centuries, I'm engulfed in a flash of brilliant colours.

Pinks, yellows, purples, and reds. I also feel softness all around me and many eyes of comfort surrounding me: my plushie palz. A surge of unexpected happiness takes hold and I let myself feel the comfort of my toy friends, reaching out to the closest ones to snuggle with. It's only then that I realize that I'm back in my room, my Sky Circus. I press the red button beside my bed to call the staff, my head filled with my questions. I finally notice the bandages across my stomach and chest along with their soreness. I feel shame for I've done it again. In my heart, I flail and fail, scry and cry, never understanding why I'm like this. Why I seek out my own end. In a sudden chorus, the voices in my head call out to me. "We are - I am - We have... No memory. Of what came to be, what might have been, or what never was. I wish to be whole... Of heart, mind, and body. For nothing else is a lingering darkness that tugs on the tendrils of our empty shell.” Where there was once comfort, it's been quickly overtaken by an inexplicable impulse of anger and sorrow. I then hear the doorknob rattle as it's unlocked by the staff. My personal support worker comes in with a smile. "Gemma! You're finally awake, dear! How are you feeling? Are you hungry?" I look up at her briefly before breaking down into tears and curling into a ball. Sobbing intensely, I wish my last attempt at killing myself had worked. My only escape from a life of blurred realities and horrifying truths. No landscape takes shape and no voices beckon for me. I don't dream or tangle with any thoughts. I let the void of my mind just sit, bathing in its own hollowness. It's nothing but silence once more.After what felt like centuries, I'm engulfed in a flash of brilliant colours. Pinks, yellows, purples, and reds. I also feel softness all around me and many eyes of comfort surrounding me: my plushie palz. A surge of unexpected happiness takes hold and I let myself feel the comfort of my toy friends, reaching out to the closest ones to snuggle with. It's only then that I realize that I'm back in my room, my Sky Circus. I press the red button beside my bed to call the staff, my head filled with my questions. I finally notice the bandages across my stomach and chest along with their soreness. I feel shame for I've done it again. In my heart, I flail and fail, scry and cry, never understanding why I'm like this. Why I seek out my own end.In a sudden chorus, the voices in my head call out to me. "We are - I am - We have... No memory. Of what came to be, what might have been, or what never was. I wish to be whole... Of heart, mind, and body. For nothing else is a lingering darkness that tugs on the tendrils of our empty shell.” Where there was once comfort, it's been quickly overtaken by an inexplicable impulse of anger and sorrow. I then hear the doorknob rattle as it's unlocked by the staff.

My personal support worker comes in with a smile. No landscape takes shape and no voices beckon for me. I don't dream or tangle with any thoughts. I let the void of my mind just sit, bathing in its own hollowness. It's nothing but silence once more. After what felt like centuries, I'm engulfed in a flash of brilliant colours. Pinks, yellows, purples, and reds. I also feel softness all around me and many eyes of comfort surrounding me: my plushie palz. A surge of unexpected happiness takes hold and I let myself feel the comfort of my toy friends, reaching out to the closest ones to snuggle with. It's only then that I realize that I'm back in my room, my Sky Circus. I press the red button beside my bed to call the staff, my head filled with my questions. I finally notice the bandages across my stomach and chest along with their soreness. I feel shame for I've done it again. In my heart, I flail and fail, scry and cry, never understanding why I'm like this. Why I seek out my own end.In a sudden chorus, the voices in my head call out to me. "We are - I am - We have... No memory. Of what came to be, what might have been, or what never was. I wish to be whole... Of heart, mind, and body. For nothing else is a lingering darkness that tugs on the tendrils of our empty shell.”

Where there was once comfort, it's been quickly overtaken by an inexplicable impulse of anger and sorrow. I then hear the doorknob rattle as it's unlocked by the staff. My personal support worker comes in with a smile. "Gemma! You're finally awake, dear! How are you feeling? Are you hungry?" I look up at her briefly before breaking down into tears and curling into a ball. Sobbing intensely, I wish my last attempt at killing myself had worked. My only escape from a life of blurred realities and horrifying truths. a lingering darkness that tugs on the tendrils of our emt