Poetry, Prosetry

Perspective of a Man – Karlee Sanders

every sunrise,
every sappy love quote,
could never be as beautiful
as the words her fingers wrote—
in the sky
connecting constellations
to the moon.
maybe it was the way she looked in the night air.
the picturesque white light on her face,
she was all things innocent and as innocuous as she could be.
but when the moonlight fell upon her fair skin,
she was a wildfire of blue and purple mixed with the almost fluorescent light and soft brown in her eyes and hair.
she could’ve outshone the sun.
not a soul on this planet could ever convince me that she was flawed in any way.
the way she touched my hands ever so carefully made me feel intoxicated with the inane butterflies she always rambled about.
when our eyes met that night, we were a part of the same dark sky we wore on our shoulders.
we were stars.
and nothing else mattered.
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Poetry

rain & i – Elena Barrera-Waters

it’s 5:56 in the morning

(on a weekend)
and the rain is pounding
and it’s loud
and the windows are shaking, even if only a little.
it’s funny because
i’m always so eager to go to sleep,
to stop the world for just a while,
to escape the noise of yesterday
and today
and even tomorrow.
but right now,
i’m up
and alive
and my heart pounds with life
to the same beat as the rain pounding against the pane of my window
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Flash Fiction

On A Delayed Flight to DC – Iman Messado

x) Nails growing from having been chipped for too long
x) Youtube playlists blowing a crackle-pop low quality rendition of the Black Keys into the rounded curves of my ears
x) My brother’s sweater, because you never know what is golden when it’s hidden in the dark dank musk of your teenage boy closet
x) Gummy worms with loud colors and quiet flavors and squirming bodies and flaccid hearts – you can’t help but feel like a reptilian predator when you gulp one down
x) A conscience lathered firmly with a lukewarm potion of guilt and disappointment with an almost negligible splash of I REALLY DON’T CARE ANYMORE
x) Tired teenage girls v. the rest of the world.
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Poetry

Something Like Freedom – Brooke Safferman

Hope in a bottle

Spilling out loudly

The sound crashes in our ears

No regrets, never regrets.

 

Shouting from rooftops, from birds’ backs, from the skies

Liberty is a thing that can be purchased

With determination and strength

We have things inside of us we never even knew we had to begin with.

 

Lean on back and close your eyes

The smells wander on in: fresh cut grass and gasoline;

Balloon animals and your dog peeing on the fence

Hey, it’s alright now. Hey.

 

That beautiful moment where you’re at a loss of words

Because you don’t have a thesaurus with you

That could give you another option, another choice for the word that means

Something like freedom.S

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Poetry, Prose

Smoker – Karlee Sanders

CIGARETTE IN HAND YOU TOLD ME YOU WOULD SWIM ACROSS OCEANS FOR ME

SMOKE POURING OUT OF YOUR NOSTRILS YOU SMILED AND IT MADE MY HEART LEAP
WITH YOUR LIGHTER FLICKERING YOU PROMISED I WOULDN’T GET HURT
BUT WHAT I DIDNT KNOW WAS THAT I WAS YOUR CIGARETTE
BURNING FOR YOU
TO MAKE YOU FEEL GOOD
AND EVENTUALLY YOU WOULD DISCARD ME
AND ID BE NOTHING BUT ASHES
BLOWING AWAY IN THE WIND
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Poetry

I Just Can’t Love You Either – Brooke Safferman

Where is my home now?

Broken hearts more painful than the shifting bones they belong to

Where is my home now?

Unspoken words burning my inner ears like a radio set to static

I have learned to no longer ask any questions that

I would really rather not know the answer to.

 

Your fingers on my collar bone, your fingers in my hair

Exhale.

“I just can’t love a person like you.”

Inhale? Inhale, inhale, inhale!

You beg to yourself,

But all of the oxygen has left the twin-size bed.

And all you have left to breath in is

The truth.

 

Here today, gone tomorrow they always told me

I always thought you’d be the one to prove them wrong

Your smile was bright but your heart was even brighter

Or so I thought.

Or so I thought.

 

At night, when I’m still awake, 50 shades of the-light-is-off-so-why-can’t-I-sleep

It’s been three months, give or take a few days

And the words you said still haunt my dreams.

Inhale.

Inhale.

Inhale.

“I just can’t love a person like you.”

 

But then, one of these nights, an epiphany occurred

In the darkness of the night

I just can’t love you, either.

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Poetry

How to Have a Midlife Crisis When You Are 24 Years Old – Samantha Forsyth

pace back and forth in the kitchen, 

and when he comes home 

tell him that you are unhappy.

he will look hurt but not surprised. 

start to walk away as he says

something like “Things can get better” 

or “I can change”. and for this you will hate him.

say that you will take a walk 

and before he can catch up to you, add ‘alone’

when you get back, find him 

at the kitchen table 

with a glass of wine. sit across from him 

and tell him that you are pregnant. 

before a year, there are medical complications

there wont ever be anything conclusive only a rash of tests

the thought occurs to you 

that you are waiting for something to die.

have a child together and then bury it. 

tell him again that you’re unhappy,

and hate him more for silently 

putting a hand on your cold shoulder

there wont ever be anything conclusive only a rash of tests

start to find excuses not to be with him. 

sit alone at cafes and hope he is having an affair

but when a man offers to buy you coffee, 

let him. have the affair for your husband

wake up early to think about what would 

make you happy and brew

a warm cup of coffee, but not for him.          

don’t say anything when your husband starts 

to play piano or learns your favorite song. 

don’t look at him when he glances at you for approval.

let his fingers trip over the keys 

and let the notes be heavy and dry,

hope they are painful for him to play 

even though you know he will keep practicing.

there wont ever be anything conclusive only a rash of tests

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Poetry

How to Look for Shapes in the Sky – Iman Messado

1. Make sure your eyes are clear.
You can’t have any cobwebs on the sill,
your eyelashes must be brushed straight through.
Are your tear ducts clogged?
Go ahead and polish your irises
until they shine as brilliantly
as the sun does
when you forgot your sunglasses
on a particularly
hot spring-summer day.
2. Have you looked yet?
Don’t do it until you’re ready.
Now that your eyes can match the sun for
clarity and
luster,
you have to understand
the implications
of that.
You have to remember to
blink.
Just because you can
stare down the sun,
doesn’t mean you should.
You’ll work it out along the way –
just know that your head is made
of stone and that
the sky is a celestial ocean.
Fear drowning.
3. I don’t mean to scare you.
I also don’t mean to control you.
I’m only worried – you have so much potential –
I sound ridiculous but
you only have to look into the mirror to see what I mean.
Have you looked?
Do you like it?
What do mountains have on the shifting marshmallow peaks of a Cumulus?
What does grandmother’s feather bed have on
the interminable expanses of heavenly soft Stratus?
4. The shapes are supposed to be what
really matter.
You’re supposed to ignore all that
has and is and will be
in favor of
practicality and analysis and intellectuality.
Of course,
it makes sense,
it should be as it is.
It’s just unfortunate is all.
It’s just you have so much potential.
So make sure your eyes are clear.
Remember that your head is a stone.
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Poetry

“I think this is maybe gonna stick with me for a long time.” – Matt Gryzduk

You will forget the way the friction burn felt at four years old, forearm dragging along rug

You will remember it all at once when people change their Twitter bios to the same thing at once

You will forget her resting expression because you never knew her well enough

You will forget that you thought about death maybe too much in the past but now never

You will forget birthday cakes, you will forget stories told to you under fluorescent lights

You will forget rewriting your name into her mouth

You will forget that it comes and goes in waves

You will forget that you’re only the second to worst person in general

You will forget that you weren’t thinking but are now very conscious

You will forget her name

But you will remember the friction burn, graft it onto others and like you perhaps they will tell others about the scar it left.

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Flash Fiction

How to Play Hide and Seek Alone – Samantha Foresyth

How to play hide and seek alone

(On Violent Growing Pains)

 

I hope you find a place where you’re ready to open hearts and throats alike with reckless abandon. Unapologetically.

1- Come back to the ruthlessness because I’ll be here waiting for you. Gums bleeding and incisors ready, the doors will all be locked. Meanwhile you’re spitting back at me, growing past milk teeth and tenderness. Unfasten your jaw like you could turn yourself inside out and hide all of these terrible things down your throat.  It’ll be a mouth like mine you’ll outgrow.

2- You can’t tell where it’s hurting and won’t calm down. Won’t ever stop howling. Jaw open too far, too big when there’s nothing left to swallow. And you’re keeping corpses between your teeth. Pick out the splinters of bone without hesitation. Cough up blood that isn’t yours.

I’ve been waiting to be left behind without a look over your shoulder. Just been chewing off dead skin.

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