by George Freek I stare at my unmade bed.Outside, a chilling breezerustles the dead leaves,as if they were feathers.The moon is a ball of lead.I gaze at distant stars,lost in the infinite sky,as if they hadnowhere to abide.A torn shirt, hanging froma tree, waves in the breeze,like an abandoned flag,now…
by Andi Garrison (This poem contains domestic abuse.) Maybe one dayyour bruises won’t burn my skin.Promises you left behindwon’t hurt time and time again. Maybe one dayvivid memories will fade.The only scars left herewill be the marks from my blade. Maybe one daymy reflection won’t break my heart.With every passing…