Stories in Poets that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
"This is the last page of this journal. A record of strife that I never wish to read through again. Unfortunately, I will need to buy a new one.
By Reid Christmann2 years ago in Poets
fission me and this disowned half would show you: salmon glide downstream . that every river yields at one easy bend go slow
By Morgana2 years ago in Poets
I need to get this off my chest. Am I your choice or just an option? Should I tell what you want to hear or the truth without distortion?
By Dharrsheena Raja Segarran2 years ago in Poets
It is time to swallow the neon lights, the pretty purple and blues. Enough years have passed to put a cold gleam in his eyes
By Silver Daux2 years ago in Poets
Are you there now, Jesus? - Can you hear my voice, its May? - I’m assuming that you’re listening, I’ve got a lot to say.
By Hannah Moore2 years ago in Poets
Astatine has peeled our molecules apart, turning us into walking ghosts. Nothing can stop the sharp fingers of time bringing ten to twenty to fifty to
“Our struggles have been years in the making.” “I know, but I wish we’d had this conversation earlier.” “Yeah, but we couldn’t have connected again before now.”
By Kathleen Thompson2 years ago in Poets
I don’t get it. As far as I can tell, there just isn’t any meaning. What if you brought along the need for such existential gleaning?
By Gabriel Huizenga2 years ago in Poets
Such pretty strings, these ancient webs, showing us true divinity. Pointless and unyielding, these strings show only futility.
By K. Kocheryan2 years ago in Poets
"Why all the griping? Either stare or start typing?" "Not everyone has your drive, I'm busier than a beehive." "This is hard. Do we have to keep rhyming?”
By Natasja Rose2 years ago in Poets
The apples grown Turned to ash upon first touch The tree broken and damaged By the hands that now owned The field where they grew,
By Katrina Thornley2 years ago in Poets
I feel like a raisin. You look like a grape. Last night was fucked. It was good to see you laugh. Want a drag? This rooftop has good air.
By sleepy drafts2 years ago in Poets
