Prose

Burn after Reading
Surrendering the advantages of birthright, all too often to those more deserving but who would otherwise have been denied.
By Randy Wayne Jellison-Knock9 months ago in Poets
In the Margin of Light
They told me life was a path you walked—straight, narrow, paved by those before you. But I was born sideways, spun by storms, cradled in silence, and stitched together by hope no one could see.
By T. E. Door9 months ago in Poets
Inheritance Clause
The letter arrived, no stamp, no name. My grandfather died, but I feel no shame. We were estranged, he disliked how I roam.
By Steph Marie9 months ago in Poets
Find Your Peace
We all have lived through chaos in the turning whirlwind of life, There is a place beyond all the chaos and noise and weight that you bare. There is a place that only you know about no matter how to describe it to someone they will never know.
By Ada Zuba9 months ago in Poets
In a Name
“I wanted them to see you before they saw you” Her name was carefully crafted by her Mother Who once had a job that showed her how easily
By LesD9 months ago in Poets
Therapy.
Grief and love have gone to therapy to talk to my heart, and my heart absorbs every word, every emotion. It is a session that never ends, but my heart hangs on; it never gets tired of the way grief shares the memories of you, or the way love speaks of you as if you created the universe itself.
By April Kirby.9 months ago in Poets
I Miss You.
My poetry remembers you, Even my books speak of your name. Each word holds a trace of you, Every page carries the warmth of your smile. How do I tell you? You live in every thought, every moment of mine... Relentlessly, without reason, without demand — you come to mind.
By A page from the Past9 months ago in Poets
Omer 22 - 22 piercings. Content Warning.
Relegated to la belle juive. Relegated to a crying villain; claims of crocodile tears. Relegated to something not human without say, without thought, without care. I remain the caricature. I remain fiction. No control allotted or allowed. I am the one who haunts them, nonetheless.
By Chaia Levi9 months ago in Poets
Hand in the paper
17 years old I thought love was an instant reply message It's the chat records of good morning, good night and late at night
By Luna9 months ago in Poets
Ink and Clouds . Top Story - May 2025.
He saw it in her eyes. The heartbreak. The past. The artist knew he’d ink whatever she asked. He didn't expect her to let him make a choice.
By Steph Marie9 months ago in Poets
Life’s perilous beauty
Don’t let the stench of fear paralyze your chance of doing, let your force ignite an appetite—kindle within yourself a sense of might.
By Hyde Wunderli 9 months ago in Poets
Read oneself, please oneself and surpass oneself
Finally, at the age of over thirty, in an instant, I didn't care about anyone's opinions and learned how to love myself. I also knew exactly what I wanted. It was so amazing. In just that split second, I understood. I love myself so much.
By Luna9 months ago in Poets