Carolina Borges

Joined September 2020

94 stories

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 (80/94)

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The Hollow Bend
The street curved where it shouldn’t bend, a narrow path that had no end. The houses leaned, the windows stared, as if they knew I wasn’t spared.
By Carolina Borges4 months ago in Poets
Her First Cold
Her body shook as she pressed herself into me, like I was the only shelter left in a storm too big for her lungs. I held her close, helpless, wishing I could slip inside her skin, carry the sickness instead of watching it take her.
By Carolina Borges4 months ago in Poets
Middle of the Road
He put the car in park in the middle of the street, slammed the door, and walked away. My mother’s anger spilled like gasoline. My crying was the match.
By Carolina Borges4 months ago in Poets
Shards of Remembering
The memory doesn’t arrive whole. It limps in, fractured, like glass scattered across the ocean floor— sharp enough to catch the sun, dangerous to touch, yet impossible to ignore.
By Carolina Borges5 months ago in Poets
The Night I Carried You
I can still smell the milk drying on my shirt that night, a faint sweetness woven into fatigue, the kind of scent that clung to me long after the room went quiet.
By Carolina Borges5 months ago in Poets
The Voice That Stays
Time isn’t fair. It wouldn’t dare pull you from your grave, yet it pulls at me every night, with that single thread of sound I can’t untangle from silence.
By Carolina Borges5 months ago in Poets
The Roots of Us
We don’t talk about the roots— just the fruit, the blooms we bring to Sunday dinners, the shade we cast in photographs. But the roots? They stretch beneath silence. Tangled in secrets, drenched in prayers, wrapped around names we only speak when the lights are off.
By Carolina Borges5 months ago in Poets
Magic of a Poet
We pluck the wind’s whisper and stitch it to silence, harvest heartbeats from the shadows of old dreams. Ink becomes smoke, curling into the shape of things we're too afraid to say aloud— a spell disguised as a sentence.
By Carolina Borges5 months ago in Poets
How to Vanish Into a Dream
Forget the way back once you've crossed the seam. Your name will fade where silence softly clings. You won't be sure you're awake or in a dream.
By Carolina Borges6 months ago in Poets
Even In This
I’ve learned to say thank You in the hush of the morning, when light slips in like grace through half-open blinds. I’ve learned to say thank You when the ache doesn’t lift, when prayers feel unanswered but peace still whispers in.
By Carolina Borges6 months ago in Poets
The Devil is Beautiful
The Devil is real. Not a cartoon villain in fireproof red, but a vision— sharp-jawed, soft-voiced, draped in charm like a velvet noose. He doesn't slither. He smiles. He holds doors open and offers second chances like poisoned wine in a crystal glass.
By Carolina Borges6 months ago in Poets
Not the Church, But God
they told me God lived in stained glass in sermons stitched with suit-and-tie conviction and Sunday morning performance reviews.
By Carolina Borges6 months ago in Poets

Carolina Borges

Bio

Achievements .css-1svwz57-Text{display:inline-block;color:var(--text-default-mute);}(2)

Stories (80/94)

Filter by community

The Hollow Bend

Her First Cold

Middle of the Road

Shards of Remembering

The Night I Carried You

The Voice That Stays

The Roots of Us

Magic of a Poet

How to Vanish Into a Dream

Even In This

The Devil is Beautiful

Not the Church, But God

Achievements (2)