Latest Stories

Most recently published stories in Poets.

Me, You, and the House
So immersed in the flavor of smoke,they called it the bakery.Tasted like warm comfort on a Sunday afternoon,they practiced it like it deserved mastery.Hearing midnight chatter in the basement,they sought petty secrets through the wallsand each quiet argument was coupledwith two strangers making out in the halls.The paint is chipped in the bathroom,your roommates thought the neon Budweiser sign would be cool.College life is sometimes a mystery,since you never know what people will call you.After the 2:00 a.m. rush of flailing white girls running out the bathroomand into the dark ether of regrets.I sat in the bedroom,told you to get a new place or deal with setbacks.Someone forgot to turn off the bass next door.The mold on the carpet screams rookie mistake.It’s suddenly another night of our quiet sharped tongues,it’s suddenly another break of day.I was so fed up,I threw the pizza boxes onto the street.I was a grenade in the lawn of disappointments,exploding whenever we couldn’t take the war heat.College boyfriends.The only ones I ask myself what I was doing with.But I knew sure as hell that during many nights,I lied in my dorm room, smiled, and knew this euphoria was no myth.We were everything we could be.We were everything we shouldn’t have been.I didn’t know who I was.No one knew where you were goin’.Slamming doors in the hallwaysnever added up to much.We’d like to think it was worth it,but we were moving this relationship with a crutch.Now it’s a distant memory in the lit sky.I wake up in my own apartment with curtains over the window.Some days I wonder where you are.Some days I understand it’s best not to know.
By Ti Ana8 years ago in Poets
Warrior Goddess
Warrior Goddess Strength of a lion Grace of a cat You tread the earth As if kissing it with your feet You endure such pain
By A. R. Ambrosi8 years ago in Poets
Creation
A chip struck away by the cold flash of steel against the earthy grain of stone, A sliver whittled away from the supple flesh of wood,
By Eric Fosler8 years ago in Poets
A Bulk Item
I've been a bulk in this dumpster ten thousand times over and over again. Beautiful trees covered with snow, how delightful the thought of death upon me is.
By Dark Fairy8 years ago in Poets
Panajachel
I don't remember exactly what was on my mind at that moment The breeze of the lake was amazingly peaceful The view of the mountains was amazing
By A M8 years ago in Poets
The Fear
I’m afraid to love. There is so much damage that you have done to me, I'm scared. I'm scared to love, to like, to develop any feelings.
By Liz Wirth8 years ago in Poets
The Moon's Tears
As he rises we flee inside as he leaves we come outside no friends can he find he’s still too kind sad and alone he wants to cry
By Page Evans8 years ago in Poets
The Company Will March
The Company Will March A company of men in a marching column, A company of men in line at the docks, A company of men on the airfields,
By James Frank8 years ago in Poets
Freedom of Paint
I’ve been thinking a lot about freedom of speech since I heard that in Canada it is against the law to misgender someone. Also, since I heard about the guy that trained his pug to do a Nazi salute. I’ve come to the conclusion that intention is integral to freedom of speech. However, no one knows the true intention of the person expressing themselves, except the person who is expressing.
By Victoria-Louise Sweet8 years ago in Poets
Through the Anxiety
I’ve always been anxious. There are thoughts constantly circling in my head every moment of every day. Worries and doubts mixed with thoughts of you and love. Fear of annoying you mixed with your words saying it’s okay to spam you if I need to. I am always so scared that one day, my anxiety will be too much for you to deal with and you’ll just walk away. After all, every person I’ve dated before you has; after all, that’s all I’ve ever known, so my heart and my brain are already trying to protect themselves from the pain.
By Elizabeth Marx8 years ago in Poets
Lost
Lost at the horizon Where all the rest of the world Gathers in some crude mockery Of reality Something keeps me from it
By A. R. Ambrosi8 years ago in Poets
Wild
It was not exactly the moment I met you I met you small and innocent I met you weird and funny I met you with your eyes full of happiness
By A M8 years ago in Poets