Prose

‘My soulmate is a hive of demons’
—- a caramel karmic on the brain, like teeth stuck in a golden apple. and the shame of a bobbing head with its steady drowning. a holding of breath. the pain of a blessing, up the nose and down the throat. ‘you’re gifted, kid’ says the amalgamation of darkness lingering in the corner. and the heat of humanity finds its way between the legs. always. shuddering. there are snakes finding their way in. coiling up into and rubbing the most sensitive spots of skin. there’s a muscular contraction. a reminder of your birth. there’s an angel that goes by the name of dirt, lost in the closet of clothes that no longer fit. coming back for the light each night, again and again, and again.
By h.a.laine4 months ago in Poets
‘If a poem was the medicine’
—- I’m tipsy and I want pink bedsheets and braces and severance payments again. gums always bleeding, sweating through my skin. the fever at my core needs to be extinguished. and I need to be adopted. my memories need a new ram. my horns need to grow in. but I’m just pillow defenseless, my nails always bitten down, jagged. my scars still itching. permanent nerve damage. my words need to vomit up and out from my esophagus. but I just keep swallowing them in. I need the world to end like it did in 2012. a new armageddon. I need cake with my feelings. to find that moment when your gaze turned away, when I lost control of the plot, and my soaking wet sheets turned into poetry.
By h.a.laine4 months ago in Poets
‘To Telepathize It’
—- you were the skin that pulled me taut, lost somewhere in the permafrost. these daydreams formed reality like crystals. my innermost truth hibernated. some prayers are like groans, some dreams are like memories. these late night meetings with foreign entities. and it’s not about when the disclosure is, it’s about what happens afterwards. was it too early for you and I to talk through the wall? is it too late for us all to learn a new language?
By h.a.laine4 months ago in Poets
‘Dear Mania, don’t call back later’
—- your red light shines through my window. like a steady solipsism. an ache between the thighs. of Ra and his rye. an eye always on me. a brightly colored, burning body and a mind like chalk made of kerosene.
By h.a.laine4 months ago in Poets
September
9/2/25 9:55pm I’m cross-legged on the sidewalk and there’s a cloud that looks like my elementary school, they upgraded the busses on the north side so it matches your funeral-inspired eggplant drapes and I can’t tell anyone about it because it doesn’t make sense to someone with living relatives, my legs are getting stiff on the concrete and elementary cloud turned into something like a salsa rendition with goats as butlers, the drapes look a lot worse than you thought they would but it was that or the electric bill so we’re eating dinner in the dark until you find the courage to pack it up and bring it to Whole Foods, we’re doing everything in the dark until someone digs their hands into the couch and finds the lyrics to that tune we wrote last year, you said it had notes of autumn’s song and I laughed at you then but now it makes sense because my family is getting smaller and the leaves don’t sound as crunchy anymore, my legs don’t feel as strong as anymore, my ceiling-fan lights don’t seem as necessary as before, and my windows don’t do anything but mock the solitude in our house that does nothing but pay homage to every grave next door.
By Olivia Dodge4 months ago in Poets
Parallel Realities, Soft Paw Entry
As a child my friend was a baby bear. I saw him even if no one else saw him or her. Dreams have always been my nights of play and movies of creativity of different realities. I see spirits and see the future at times through my dreams. I thought I was a normal 2 and 3 D human. I am not and this causes some folks to walk away and say, "You are strange, boo!" I am happy creating art, writing, music, & rainbows. Expression is a part of my personality. Dreams are a part of my art. I admit some folks hate that I use AI to help create my animations and photos that I write prompts to obtain the final art to represent my writing. LIFE IS FULL OF TWISTS AND TURNS AROUND DIFFERENT REALITIES EVERYDAY IF ONE OPENS THEIR HEART AND EYES. I am an empath, psychic dreamer. My creations come from my soul. So, if you hate AI, just try putting that thought away for 10 minutes to read, watch, and listen to my creations that come from my heart and soul.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 4 months ago in Poets
voices
I hear her clearly Each time I turn out the lights "Blood's hidden in dark"
By Chrissy MKM4 months ago in Poets
Blood of the Wolf: The Warning. Top Story - September 2025.
My name is Uthgerd - though you may call me coward - for this day I ran from a battlefield drowned in flames. The jarls said it was just one shieldmaiden
By Amanda Starks4 months ago in Poets
Once Bitten Twice Shy
I was offered a million dollars once, for a day A raise from the 50 thous making its way Yes, that's the truth Save the truth
By Canuck Scriber Lisa Lachapelle4 months ago in Poets
Butterfly
I am like a butterfly, I can change a being with the flap of my wings. Cocooning my way through life, only to emerge brighter -
By KwCub4 months ago in Poets
If Only You Were Real. Runner-Up in Letters to the Moon Challenge.
From the days long before when man first took in your contours, white face pocked and gnarled unlike your blinding, homogenous counterpart,
By Stephen A. Roddewig4 months ago in Poets
Blood of the Wolf: The Glowing Trail
Deep in the dark where no light dare dwell a tower stands nearly crumbled to sand. A fire bravely burns bright against the night
By Amanda Starks4 months ago in Poets