Natasha Collazo

Joined June 2021

206 stories

Bio

Selected Writer in Residency, Champagne France ---2026

The Diary of an emo Latina OUT NOW

https://a.co/d/0jYT7RR

Achievements (7)

Stories (206)

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Season and Sensibility
The leaf reunites, Christmas, summer, life and death, falling into one.
By Natasha Collazo4 months ago in Poets
When it falls
The world waits for it, when it falls, a single leaf heals something in us.
By Natasha Collazo4 months ago in Poets
Mid-Air. Runner-Up in Falling Leaves Challenge.
a single leaf drifts mid-air; a thousand lifetimes pause to catch its breath.
By Natasha Collazo4 months ago in Poets
The Door Left Open
You left the door open, a cool breeze bit my skin, Snow flurries covered the entrance, white and sore I knew no one was coming back again.
By Natasha Collazo4 months ago in Poets
If you knew it was the end
If you knew it was the end, not on your terms, not by your blade— would you have lived more than mere greatness? Would it be enough
By Natasha Collazo4 months ago in Poets
Poets Love Their Birds
Poets love their birds. When I study poetry, there’s always a dove, a sparrow, a gull— literary wings. Unoriginal.
By Natasha Collazo4 months ago in Poets
Flora and Freaks. Winner in Somewhere Between Here and There Challenge. Top Story - August 2025.
smiling in checkout lines kneeling in pews a child can raise the gun and doesn’t look much different than you * a father can betray his ring
By Natasha Collazo5 months ago in Poets
The Modern Siren
It’s taken me years to get here to write more than passing thoughts, to weave words like weathered cloth in a room freshly painted.
By Natasha Collazo5 months ago in Poets
Literary Secrets of Sylvia Plath
“Wherever I sat, on the deck of a ship or at a street café in Paris or Bangkok—I would be sitting under the same glass bell jar, stewing in my own sour air.”
By Natasha Collazo5 months ago in BookClub
Secrets of Thunder
I wake to the voice in the clouds, a sermon groaning in thunders tongue. The corners of my room soften, shadows stretching like gentle hands
By Natasha Collazo6 months ago in Poets
The Glass Shark
Sylvia almost tossed it into the donation box. The little glass shark ornament had been gathering dust on her windowsill for years, a relic from a relationship that ended long ago. But whenever her fingers closed around it, something in her chest tightened.
By Natasha Collazo6 months ago in Fiction
T o u c h
It seems I bruise everything I touch. Even the air around me feels colder once I speak. Still, there’s a softness in me
By Natasha Collazo6 months ago in Poets