Latest Stories

Most recently published stories in Poets.

PTSD & Sexual Abuse
Gone Your fingers around my neck, your threats in my ears. I need to get away, need to run. You pull back your arm and I flinch and wait for the sting.
By Michaela Switzer8 years ago in Poets
Dear Trump
After thirteen I forgot what it meant To know pride from my parents Perhaps I wasn’t looking hard enough Perhaps they were showing me in their own way
By Montana Rose8 years ago in Poets
On Dollar Day
On Dollar Day, the Bright ones shine the most. The saver and the Spender each get to Rejoice. Trading in A free market is
By Skyler Saunders8 years ago in Poets
Writing Tears
You can sit And you can try You can stare long and hard At the paper Grip the pen until there is ink running Down your hand pooling
By Montana Rose8 years ago in Poets
2 Much UTube
Satan's vocal cords Through the reversed verses Of the Beatle's Revolution No. 9, Will lead 1 2 theorize conspiracy Theories and alien
By Emily Ericson8 years ago in Poets
It's Not You, It's Me
"It's not you it's me" Is the problem me? Maybe one day you'll see just how shitty you treated me, I forget your too self righteous to see reality,
By Cassie Ostin8 years ago in Poets
Dear You
I met you a few days ago. Sitting in your chair. I met you never knowing you and somehow I know you but I’ve only just met you. Legs damaged just like my heart. Your voice taken just like my love. Bruises aching and somehow I’m the one. I wish I could take all of your pain away that day. I feel like I’ve loved you even before today. I would stay up all night knowing you fell asleep safely in my arms. Smiling beautifully and never feeling on guard. Your dark, red curls infatuate me, your Cupid’s bow captivating as she. I would drown myself inside the paleness of your skin. You’d be worth my every sin. I’m in love with a woman I just met. Will she ever be mine? To the woman within. I’m in love with you again and again. Dear you, it’s me. To her. Never me.
By VoiceDecay8 years ago in Poets
Empty and Full
A candlelight dinner with none to share with The conflict of your own identity Never to touch the hand of serenity Having news to share but none to tell
By Erika Marie8 years ago in Poets
UFO 'Mothership' Emerges From Storm Clouds Over Australian Beach
This must have been what the Ancients saw When first they believed that visitors Sometimes revealed themselves When angry clouds hover overhead
By Reid Moore8 years ago in Poets
Love [Frame]
I kept my hands dry! So as to when you could hold them, They aren’t wet anymore. I kept my palm soft! Only because you like touching them,
By Chandni Venkatesh8 years ago in Poets
Praise for Lauren Scharhag's First Collection of Poems
Lauren Scharhag's 2013 publication, West Side Girl & Other Poems, is her first and only collection of poetry. Upon review, this exciting piece of work could perhaps be more aptly described as an assembly of mini-epics rather than a compilation of poems. Readers will find that each piece is a complete story, and that each of these stories is filled with its fair share of horrifically beautiful descriptions. The collection opens with a rather temperate piece, "Good Bread." This is a quiet yet confident little poem which pays homage to a lineage of women who "...looked at the moon and baked bread round."
By Laura DiNovis Berry8 years ago in Poets
My Dearly Beloved Mike
My dearly beloved Mike, I miss you so much already. I do love you a lot and will hold on steady. This makes me feel like...
By Sarah Worley8 years ago in Poets