Another great piece by Joel

Dark in a way that feels intimate, not decorative. “I no longer mourn the part of me that died” sets the tone immediately, and from there the language keeps sinking deeper, “throat and gullet,” “compressed. / crushed. / unmade,”“recognition has withered,” all of it building that sense of identity being stripped down piece by piece.

What makes it strong is the voice. It doesn’t ask for sympathy. It pulls the reader down with it. And by the time you get to “There’s no need to struggle here. / Stay with me. / Together. / Forever,” it feels less like a statement and more like a cold invitation. Haunting, intense, and very self-possessed.