top of page

Iris Magazine 

New Beginnings

Creative Entries

Pronoun Game

Isaac Schiller

I like they/them in the sense of 

Production, a controlled-release seduction,

A vindication of all the things within our coven,

So stake me, take me, remember what I said: I

can use them all if my deadname stays dead. 

Androgenize me, homogenize me, 

Make me your sopping cake-milk, 

Froth me, spin me, leave me in my own filth,

Let’s just wait and adore me, 

God, don’t ignore me– 

How about 

How about we just wait a minute 

Catch up with me and then I’ll win it

Back in the days without the praise 

And I just want your validation, 

I just want your gaze, 

Graze off me, feed from me, 

I’ll let you live off my bones, 

My favorite snail, 

Telling me it’s okay to fail, 

Put your rat lungworm on my tongue. 

Sometimes I think you’re corrupting me, Sometimes I say it’s done, 

But I don’t know what I want anymore,





I don’t know if I want anymore.

The Ghostwriter

Isaac Schiller

Alan: hello? 

Me: God, you always take so fucking long to pick up. 

Alan: and? Would you pick up quickly for a voice in your head? 

Me: No, I’m always the one calling you. 

Alan: And let me guess. You’re here because you think it’d be pretty and poetic.

Me: why else would we be here? 


Me: anyway. To the point. Where were you last night? 

Alan: the union. 

Me: Soviet? 

Alan: college. Idiot 

Me: I’m the one who takes your classes for you, so tread carefully. 

Alan: fine. Yes the union 

Me: are you sure? 

Alan: yes 

Me: so why were you on a hill? Feeling menaced by bees? 

Alan: bring up my childhood, you always go for the easy strikes 

Me: so why do you still remember it? Do you remember your first encounter with beetles? Alan: it’s about relationships 

Me: to whom? 

Alan: to Helene. To Abel. To Luca. 

Me: so why don’t you look them in the eye? 

Alan: I’m good at that. 

Me: then you wouldn’t see my reflection in anyone else? 

Alan: well– 

Me: Admit it. I’m your greatest relationship, your only relationship.

Alan: you 

Me: yes 

Alan: maybe I’ll submit this to a magazine 

Me: feel free. If you were more body than mind, you wouldn’t even have a writing partner. Alan: you? 

Me: well, that beeping noise doesn’t stop for just anyone. I care for you

Alan: sure 

Me: so, you can take care of yourself? 

Alan: obviously 

Me: Where are you?

Alan: the pizzeria. 

Me: getting pizza? Please. You’re not talking. Not looking. Not speaking. In what version of your world are you here? No, you’re there. You’re always there. Haven’t you realized that yet? Alan: I... 

Me: You make me into a person every time you try to kill me. You objectify yourself every time you wake up. What other being can claim this? 

Alan: Please. I’m trying 

Me: And has that ever been enough? Face it. You have four walls, no windows. See this document? It’s not round. And if it were, you’d still be walking in circles. 

Alan: I’ve never let myself be seen by anyone 

Me: that won’t change! 

Alan: Exclamation points. Class act 

Me: you always want to be a fucking grammarian 

Alan: is loving my work wrong now? 

Me: loving yourself is. 

Alan: oh, now you hate body positivity? 

Me: No! Just you 

Alan: stop trying to control me 

Me: so it’s my fault you can’t really speak? That now I’m thinking of all your lines because you can’t fucking stop? I’m helping you, Alan. 

Alan: how? 

Me: Don’t you want to know where you are? 

Alan: These aren’t the right questions 

Me: fine. Why don’t you want to die? 

Alan: Because I want to live 

Me: On. You want to live on 

Alan: And? 

Me: You know that when you’re gone, they’ll only remember me.

bottom of page