Most recently published stories in Poets.
I want to be like everyone else—a carbon copy of those pretty, smiling girls That always look flawless. That always have perfectly aligned teeth.
By Allison Jones8 years ago in Poets
Summertime brought the buzzing, slow moving skydivers in the corner of her room The bedsheet, a veil between her little face
By Sarah Terra8 years ago in Poets
"I have found a friend that never ages called Art, no defined sex or clothes, only dressing of the soul is Art. Whether the heart is being grated to shreds,
By Ed G8 years ago in Poets
I worship her body—it’s a temple under my knowing gaze— an altar beneath my wagging tongue—a god to my meager self. I sing my praises in-between her thighs—her moans my echo.
Six feet long, two feet wide is the box in which she now resides no longer breathing, nothing but pain she left behind. bruises on her face, arms and chest. abused in life and cant rest in death.
By Jade Grayson8 years ago in Poets
The artist creates to escape from the nightmare he knows he will never wake. Alive and present in the moment The brush strokes thick and full
By Janelle Ouellet8 years ago in Poets
We are part of a world that I don't belong in. Barely able to keep our heads above the cocktail of spiraling emotions I created.
By Maya Feuerstein8 years ago in Poets
D E S T R U C T I O N Where does the self-destruction stop? When do we tell ourselves enough is enough. Where do we draw the line with the ones
By Words by F8 years ago in Poets
When I look in the mirror, All I see is the word mistake written in ruby red lipstick from Sephora. Because that’s what I feel that I am.
By Bed Head Red8 years ago in Poets
Love. It’s a mixture of adoring something unconditionally, appreciating something and even if the beauty of it seems to fade, it’s always beautiful to you, it’s always adorned by you, it’s always treasured by you.
By Zainab Bangura8 years ago in Poets
Gaiety; "the state or quality of being lighthearted or cheerful." Her old soul is beautiful to hear and feel. You couldn't resist looking at her, hearing her, or talking to her.
By Kaitlyn Michelle8 years ago in Poets
She can still remember the way his teeth looked in his head when he first Smiled at her They were white, white as hell, and reflected the universe and the god
