Prose

Things I Outgrew
Things I Outgrew I outgrew sugary treats for breakfast when I was 18 I thought that I outgrew my britches But I still make Mamaw's waffles when I'm missing home.
By Ellie Hoovs11 months ago in Poets
"DON'T BULLY ME". Content Warning.
All characters are fictional. This is a fictional story video. I am concerned about high rents and the elderly losing their benefits in this dystopian nightmare. I am seventy-five.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 11 months ago in Poets
A Light of Many Faces
The moon shines her incandescent light Into winter's darkest spaces The glow traces the corners of my smile As I muse over her many well-lit faces
By Ellie Hoovs11 months ago in Poets
I Can Give You Fireflies
I don't have much to offer I'm just a penniless writer barely making enough to get by But what I can give to you, I give freely and heartfelt,
By Ellie Hoovs11 months ago in Poets
Neutrality
I often find myself perfectly balanced on a thin imaginary line - afraid of the chaos that may ensue if the weight does not remain evenly distributed.
By BrettNotGreg11 months ago in Poets
Back to Caladan
I’m headed back to Caladan My personal Neverland None of this was planned But by the stroke of my hand I’m going to the land I belong
By Atomic Historian11 months ago in Poets
Recycle . Content Warning.
reduce me to the smallest parts of myself cut down to size by your silver tongue. reuse whatever’s left for your own benefit.
By Ellie Hoovs11 months ago in Poets
Red Dirt
Has a grudge against white clothes -Almost impossible to wash out Kids dare each other to eat chunks of it Some do it without
By BBW11 months ago in Poets
A Self-Defined Orbit. Top Story - February 2025.
A Self-Defined Orbit I could have walked away. Anytime. I struggled many times with the urge to walk away from the whole mess, to chase my own happiness, but being a creature designed to explore and extoll the virtues of melancholy, I found a love worth suffering.
By C. Rommial Butler11 months ago in Poets
Comes Easy
I do what make sense to me What is working Because it comes easy Maybe I am lazy Or done with high expectations I don't know
By L.I.E11 months ago in Poets
Mother Winter
Winter begins to tuck me in at the end of November like a mother who knows her child is over tired and needs rest She wraps me with a cozy blanket
By Ellie Hoovs11 months ago in Poets
Broken Art
"more please," an agitated voice begged. wuh-PSSSH! whip-crackings echoed, accompanied by a voice filled with hurt. he had risen,
By Sammeeha 11 months ago in Poets