Essay, Flash Fiction, Poetry, Prose

Sometimes – Anonymous

Sometimes your opinion really bothers me

 

Sometimes my desires feel like slavery

 

Sometimes half the things you say I don’t understand

 

Sometimes it would be easier to love a different man

 

 

Sometimes you make me wait far too long to see you

 

Sometimes I feel jealous green or melancholy blue

 

Sometimes you ask me to let you see too much

 

Sometimes I don’t savor your words or crave your touch

 

 

Sometimes you twist my words

 

Sometimes your helping hurts

 

Sometimes you tell the truth when I want a lie

 

Sometimes you leave me without saying goodbye

 

 

Sometimes I find you suffocatingly possessive

 

Sometimes what you tell me isn’t calming, but distressive

 

Sometimes what you call sexy I find oppressive

 

Sometimes I’m afraid that our affections are not crescive

 

 

Sometimes I don’t like you, but I have never ceased to love you.

 

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Flash Fiction, Poetry

(untitled) – Karlee Saunders

I never knew just how much I would miss the glances we would give each other every now and then as we walked

nor did I expect my hands to feel empty with every move I made

I didn’t realize the things I was taking for granted before he left

but now his eyes are filled with infatuation for another

and I’m still here

ks

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Essay, Flash Fiction, Prose

A Simple Thought – Aksel Taylan

We spend a lot of time in our short lives thinking about the long term. What’s going to happen to me in ten years? Fifteen? Thirty, even? In severe cases, we let this presumptuous worries diversely affect our everyday actions and choices. This principle has a number of glaring flaws, but the main one to focus on is that the future hasn’t happened yet. You are writing your own novel; you are the only one with a pen. In other words, it is fully within your capabilities to control most of what happens in your life. However, we fail to understand that not all of it can be controlled. People get in car accidents. People get deathly ill. People are in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Why, then, should you let these worries take hold of how you express yourself if we don’t have absolute control? Sometimes, doing something wrong allows a person to grow, to become stronger, possibly even teach others the right way. The right way, which everyone hungrily seeks, cannot be found without failure. Take a left when you think you’re supposed to take a right, eat raw cookie dough, or even, if you’re feeling really adventurous, stay out an hour later! Fight the norm with all you’ve got, because succumbing to the proper choice makes for a dull, uninspired life. Need I remind you, you only get one of those. I think it’s in your best interest to make it count.

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Flash Fiction, Poetry

Yesterday’s Summers – Pamela Loperena

When the cold slips in,

I can feel my heart start ticking,

like a time bomb waiting to fracture.

And I wish the sound didn’t hurt you,

but by the looks of things, it already has.

And I wish my soul would scald a dove’s wing

because I am more empty than pure;

more fed up with forevermore.

Yet sleep is somehow comforting.

I revel in its sores

—still bruising, since yesterday’s summer.

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Essay, Flash Fiction, Prose

Survival (Lesson One) – Caitlyn Beauchamp

I’m going to teach you a lesson. I’ll lay out each step, provide an outline, but you have to do the rest. You have to act. This is how to live life. This is how to survive.

First, I want you to wake up. Open your eyes and take a waking breath. Welcome this day. The past may flood back into your mind, but keep your focus on today.

Next, get out of bed. This is a bit harder. Moving takes motivation and determination, even though, it seems so simple on the outside. Sometimes it may feel like there is a weight on your chest, pinning you down, holding you back. You have to find the energy to fight back somehow.

If you made it to this step, feel proud. You kicked off your day when many others couldn’t even find the will to get out of bed. Now, go to your nearest mirror or somewhere you can see yourself. Once you’re there, look at your reflection and smile. Smile because you’re alive and that’s your most important job, your purest purpose, and you’ve done a great job so far.

So far, you’re moving and smiling. You’re doing great. You should eat something now or at least provide yourself with a beverage. Part of life involves taking care of yourself. It isn’t too hard, but I find some people fight themselves on the topic of it. They refuse to. They group it with bad acts. Remember, food keeps you alive. You’ve come so far already; why stop now?

Now, you have two options: rest or work. You get to choose, but keep that smile on your face. Whichever you do, make sure you do it right. With a smile. If you’re not going to put that effort into it then don’t do it at all.

Once the day comes to a close, I want you to sleep. Put everything aside and just lay down. Block everything else out. I know it can be tough shutting away your worries and thoughts, but you have to muffle them somehow. Your body and mind both need sleep, so try not to deprive them of it for petty things. I hope you’re still smiling. Now, repeat this tomorrow.

So, maybe this sounds like “faking it,” but I think this layout is efficient. You’re valuable, and you’re just constantly reminding yourself of that. Always keep moving. Always keep fighting. Never feel like today should be your last day. So, remember, do it right with a smile or don’t do it at all.

This concludes Lesson 1.

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Essay, Flash Fiction, Prose

Dear Diary – Camryn Garrett

4/13/15

I think that my life revolves way too much around things that aren’t happening, and things that aren’t real. People who I made up, and who only exist in my head. Scenarios and stories. Which is all fine and dandy, but eventually I feel like I’m sucked in. Stuck in my head.
And I don’t like the feeling very much.

The only issue is that I don’t really know what else to do when I’m outside of my head. A club? An activity? Like, what?

But I also feel like this all the time, even when I’m relatively sane. I don’t know what it is. Maybe there’s something wrong with me. I just sit around. Observing. Watching other people live their lives while I sort of just..drift through it, you know? And I’m tired, so I don’t really want to force myself to do anything.

I don’t know. I wish that I could be normal.

4/24/15
I feel like I haven’t been normal in a long time.

4/26/15

I want to die.

At this point, I think that I might always want to die. Maybe people learn how to live with it? But I don’t know. All I know is that I want to die, but I’m never going to do it myself because I can’t let go of what I hope might be.

I just wish that it weren’t so fucking difficult.

And no one ever knows what I’m talking about???

No one really seems to know what to do. So maybe there’s something wrong with me that can’t be fixed. Like, my fate was predetermined? So maybe I’m a cautionary tale. Maybe I could’ve done great things and people will point at me when trying to convince kids not to get sad.

5/3/2015

Sometimes I wish that I could be part of something. That I could feel important. I really don’t know how to describe it.

Ugh. I’m such an angsty teen. But the whole angsty teen idea is really stupid, because I feel like it takes away someone’s right to actually have feelings. Like, when a female has feelings, she’s sort of denied that right. As are teens.

5/7/2015

I don’t know why I feel so anxious. I just know that I do. I just feel like nothing I ever write will be good enough, even if I write it and love it with all of my heart.

I just wonder if it’s even worth it. But I

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Flash Fiction, Poetry, Prose, Prosetry

Isn’t It Funny? – Poppy Lam

Isn’t it funny how fire destroys everything that allows it’s soaring embers thrive?
The things that keep it alive?
kinda like us.
You suck the life out of me so you can glow even brighter,
 leaving me to cough up the ashes,
 Your crippling flames leave my fingertips blistered and burnt from the mere thought of you,
 but soon I will no longer be a source of fuel,
I was just a Serendipity as you were racing through the silhouettes of land.
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