by Emma Aylor
I know it’s rare for me to start
this way: talking plainly to you, as I am now.
It’s as simple as wanting
to tell you something that happened Continue reading
by Emma Aylor
I know it’s rare for me to start
this way: talking plainly to you, as I am now.
It’s as simple as wanting
to tell you something that happened Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Mark Brazaitis
He thought the end would come fast. Within seconds of leaping off the bridge, he would hit the dark water twelve stories below. But time was betraying him. He had leapt, but his descent had slowed to the pace of his depression, which had been gnawing at him for months. He was, it seemed, being granted a reprieve of sorts. Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
by Laine Derr
My cat kisses finches on the neck, red
feathers masking want, a body finely limp.
I learned burying from my father, animals
killed on country roads, soil rich in blood. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by John A. Nieves
“How I don’t know what I should do with my hands when I talk to you.
How you don’t know where you should look, so you look at my hands.”
—John K. Samson
It wasn’t always crayons—sometimes chalk or markers, sometimes
just the wish to somehow say. But I pressed hard into paper, each word
Continue reading
by Sarain Frank Soonias
stay in it
somewhere you know its special
don’t worry about time
somewhere you know its snow melting on your parents driveway
the girls are women with responsibilities
but they’re still girls Continue reading
Filed under Poetry