Carolina Borges
Bio
I've been pouring my soul onto paper and word docs since 2014
Poet of motherhood, memory & quiet strength
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Stories (94)
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The Room I Stayed In
I’m sitting in a room I barely recognize. The walls are chipped. The corners hold pieces of me I swear I threw away. Old versions of myself are scattered everywhere— the girl who begged for love, the one who let everything slide, the one who thought she’d never make it out alive.
By Carolina Borges3 months ago in Poets
When Mercy Knocked
The rain had been falling for hours—steady, heavy, and unending. It wasn’t the kind of rain that washed the world clean, but the kind that soaked into it, making everything heavier. Outside, the city lights were muted behind the downpour. Inside, Samuel’s apartment felt isolated, sealed off from the rest of the world.
By Carolina Borges3 months ago in Fiction
The Knock at Room 9
The first knock came just after midnight — three slow, deliberate taps against the door, patient and almost polite. Agnes Miller opened her eyes. A thin strip of light spilled beneath the door, but the sound hadn’t come from the hallway. It was closer, as if the room itself had exhaled. She turned toward the nightstand, where her worn Bible and silver rosary rested. The beads trembled faintly, catching the moonlight that slipped through the blinds.
By Carolina Borges3 months ago in Fiction
