Ella Witney

Your friends are having fun,


a crowded party,

they stand off in the corner

they lean in – whisper

secrets, talk shit.

One holds

the other’s shoulder,

keeps them close,

making sure not a word leaves

between them.


The way they laugh through their


like it’s just too funny

to repress.

The room is too

noisy to have a clue what

they’re exchanging.

Their mouths open.


They look like best friends,

or so Instagram says.

The two of them sunbathe at the beach,

drink cocktails in the club,

picnics on the green,

matching outfits at the festival,

their social media memories recall

cute breakfasts and coffee art

at a bougee café.


It used to be you.

There was no invitation to join them.


You used to stroll down Surfers Paradise,

the two of you.

Got ice creams,

nights at the ice rink,

drive through the city,

covered by lights.


You would spend hours,

talking about how great it would be

to be



Of the adventures you would

go on.

Together, and

daydream your ideal lives.


You’re both older now.


Trekking towards the future.

Not much has changed;

you’re both where you wanted to be.


not together.

Author: Ella is a Brisbane-based writer and poet. Currently she is studying a Bachelor of Fine Arts, majoring in Creative Writing at Queensland University of Technology and works on the content team for ScratchThat magazine. As a third-generational member of Brisbane’s folk scene and an Irish Fiddler, Ella is inspired by traditions and lore, and is always on the look-out for what can be amended to better suit modern audiences. Her works include elements of fantasy, psychological, and horror, and explores the way mental health affects individuals

Artist: Zoe Hawker is a multi-disciplinary student artist working with sculpture, installation, and painting. Her self-reflexive practice aims to decode the absurdities of our current culture.

Editors: Bea Warren and Euri Glenn