by Rachel M. Patterson The ancient garden looks dead tonight, Darkness feeds it with her poison, It hums with ossified future light, A light the now appears frozen. . The promise of a flame in the morning, Hypnotizes the wandering mind, A ghosted tree heeds it’s warning, The gruesome remains…
by Adina Edelman I smell death. The stench isn’t unbearable; more like the lingering odor of a tuna sandwich left out too long. But it brings up a heavy feeling inside me, a sickening anticipation for what is to come. I stroll down the locker-lined hallway, my boots making no…
by Amy Covel My armor conceals A fractured heart Held together By nothing more Than a hope That home Is still waiting For its child To return A warrior.
by Kristal Peace Weaker than I cannot be She waits For me . To produce The pearls that Will save her Life, to silence The guns and stay The knife that . Ever approaches her Dawning cheek I reach, I try But I am weak. . And she cannot know…
by Jessica Bailey The knock came at the most inopportune time. Cassie paused. The whir of her mixer ploughing through the ingredients for a velvet cake was difficult to hear over. The rain pouring buckets outside certainly didn’t help. But then her buzzer sounded, and she hurriedly turned off the…
by Sheree La Puma To my estranged daughter in wake of the recent tragedies in California New Moon in Scorpio. 12 people shot. Dead, College Night, Wednesday. Malibu burning. Ash like a blanket. Black, my mood. Everyone, for themselves. You come at me like a stranger, or don’t come at…
by Steven J. Gray The opportunity arrived and they couldn’t turn it down. Seb had been eyeing the house he grew up in for years. It was on the market once before, well before he was in any position to be considering a home purchase. That didn’t stop him from…
by Caitlin Eha I am the storm Inside, I cannot Be still—the wind Fights, tears at me Battering, blinding The rain falls, flies In my face, like Bullets, biting. The lightning courses Through me—power Rising up, striking out Electricity—is it Hurting, or healing Clouds covering, their Darkness smothering Light, dark—lightning,…
by Amy Covel When my parents told me Being an adult would be hard I thought they meant The stress of paying bills on time Or caring for a husband and three kids Or working forty hours a week. I didn’t know being an adult meant Having fallingouts for telling…
by Twixt A pattern is argyled on the surface of the highland stream, on the trouts’ flank-flash, on the pebbled, fundamental bottom. In its back-drift wake picture-perfects snake.