Yearning
As sound echoes She begins to think mellow, Camouflaging Like Gecko. Wrong people wrong time as The scenery splurges To divide, her feelings justified. Parallel angles between Two familiar faces Chosen through determination. Campbells for dinner Every night till dusk, Unthawed like nighttime grunts. Kieth Haring, large emotion, distributed like A sweet maple cherry. Boston tea party, Hundreds thrown overboard, Gritty like Smithsonian's herbivores. Heartaches like a Ha
Jerimiah Piltie
Apr 22
The Price We Pay
From Pandora’s Box She was blinded by its captivating elegance, intoxicated by her own curiosity, even when sworn to never open that box. “Merely a bronze coated chest it seemed, treasures and pleasures waiting to be discovered…” That box was no prize. There were no riches found within. Instead, a vault forged to confine the most wretched of evils who only thirst for humanity’s blood. These evils have resided in our air, our vital, inescapable air. Once fresh and pure by natu
Nevyn Jerez
Apr 4
First to be forgotten
I stay in the gutter, were the pages are pressed — holding the book together. Never being seen. I am the leaf spilt to make room for others, creased by hands that turn past me — never stopping to notice what opens the story above. On the recto the words feel uneven, odd against the weight of the book. The verso stays across from me the whole time and who is to say just because they’re even doesn't mean they’re steady. My corners bend, dog-eared from being useful. Fr
Courtney Esposito
Apr 3
Quiet
Who am I. What have I become, My walls are high, Marred with bruises, A canvas of a pain that told a story No one wants to read. Every heart hides many wounds, Holding its pain quietly— How I hide my feelings to myself, Cling to the verge of naming them Then folding the words back inside. Unspoken doubt, Drowned in silence, Besotted by darkness, Not as an end, but As the quiet where my thoughts finally fit. Darkness doesn't always mean loneliness or grief— It's the spac
Samantha Metitiri
Apr 1
A cloud on my shoulder
Your fog trekked my treacherous path to my shoulder. I let you in and held you taut to see my heaven— landscapes lavish with love. I entrusted you to shade my peak from the gaze of a perilous sky, to turn aerosols into healing rain for my evergrowing fields. Yet at times the radiant sun will rise on my firmament… and I hold sovereign trust in you to no longer seclude its sunshine. Welcome it atop me— stand with me against the sun and let its aureate rays leak like a cultiva
Ian Black
Apr 1
The Birth Of Aphrodite
Encapsulated heat arose, the ocean grew bitter and cold as Uranus released a bubbly substance, its desire for the human race emerges, in a scallop shell to shore. Seafoam washed up by the seashore. Seafoam becomes she, the embodiment of a human being. A beautiful beast created, fully grown, craving for mating with man. Myrtles await her arrival, Doves hatch in branches, flying overhead to greet her. Gods fall in a lustful love. On their hands and knees meeting her. On the i
Amber Pendel
Mar 31
Persephone
She’s the breath of spring— reduced to a wilting flower. Life calls her name— Death holds her down. A beauty of nature, A prisoner of mortality. The cool breeze sings of her liberation. The fiery heat shapes her shackles. Bound to the confinements of eternity, merely a visitor in her own world. You thank her for the changing seasons, while her mother grieves.
Jordin Rubin
Mar 30
God of…Fear?
You’ve been off, father. They call you the god of War— a symbol of strength and courage, never bending to the likes of anyone. Your bloodlust knowing no bounds, your drive to seek chaos, your thirst for destruction, leading you to seek blood. And yet, you don’t seem like it. Instead, you look like a god of Impotence, a god of Failure, a god of Fear. But… that title is supposed to belong to me. So why do you show it? Perhaps the reason isn’t because of the many physical battl
Kevin Hernandez
Mar 29
Samudra Manthan
Tell me of the righteousness of the devas and the monstrousness of the asuras. Which are demons? and which are gods? Both were cursed for pride and ugliness. Both came together to mix the milk of the sea. The demons were deceived like the workers of the slums; hard work did not yield power and a share of good, sweet fortune. From both can we learn, and neither should we dismiss. The gods chose foul play even though it is the demons’ nature that is said to be hellish.
Liana Chetty
Mar 27
Becoming Something New
Every morning you rise without asking. You are so beautiful while you undo me. Your warmth presses against me. A drop forms, then another. Suddenly, I feel myself slipping, edges softening, corners turning into water. “But I can't stop shining,” you say. I can’t stop watching as you slowly take my life. Drop by drop I become something new something less solid.
Angelina Lorente
Mar 24
Medusa
I used to be a goddess, but now they call me a monster. Like I was born with these strange, sickening, snakes in my hair. But once, my hair was just hair. Still soft enough for the wind to comb through. I used to be a girl who believed in the gods, and mercy. But then came the curse. A hiss where my laughter used to live, scales where skin used to be warm. Now men, who call themselves warriors, travel miles for the glory of my silence. When they look at me, they see what they
Sarah Bruzual
Mar 24
A Constant Reminder
She grabs my throat with a loose grip, her grasp slightly restricting but sweet. She whispers in my ear— chanting. I can hear her but it has a different feel. Carolina. She gleams in rays of light— leaving the diamonds to reflect. Smiling at everyone she sees. Carolina. The little girl trapped in its shiny plaque, only now, she's not so little. Growing with the length of the chain except it's getting shorter while I’m getting taller. Carolina. Its arms wrap around me like
Delmy Garcia
Mar 22
Good Times
Have a good time. You gotta love a good time. Middle of the summer, on the beach, glass of coke in hand, now that’s a good time. Convertible Porsche 911 Turbo S on an easy Sunday post night out, that’s also a good time. The first notes of Nikes by Frank Ocean, sitting beside a lover you know won’t be here long. That’s a great time. So many good times I can’t even pick a favorite one— concerts, albums, cars, people. It’s all a blessing. Good times are my favorite bles
Ever Chavez
Mar 20
The Tide Between Us
I belong where you exist — where the tide folds into itself, washing ashore a string of memories. The water hums with the thoughts you left behind, your faded voice caught in the loud waves. I want to be the coral at the bottom of the sea, beneath the ocean currents, Anchored. but, alive watching the light bend and break above me. I want to be the seagulls above, Watching the water shift and shimmer, circling the surface you once held. The wind carries your name, a
Ekaterina Talyzina
Mar 16
Worn out, dead shoe
And when the shoe finally gives way— it does not fail all at once. It loosens, thins, forgets its shape. What once held the foot upright becomes something barely worn, a reminder rather than a shoe. A reminder of all the work you put into shaping the shaft that was once hard. The shoe dies quietly but quickly. The demand of the shoe quiets, no more breaking of the shaft, looking to be broken in and sewn. It starts to let you sink, Gravity is starting to weigh ⸺ The sh
Demi Botta
Mar 14
A Disposable Savior
I travel the world, yet I see nothing but glimpses. I’m left with teeth marks from carelessness. I’m covered in a powdery chemical and my cold metal core is protected by a dented, scratched, red plastic shell. I breathe life into one, but I run out of life myself. I wait for the next inhaler to replace me. All I do is give. All any of us do is give. I only bestow my breath so another can safely jog a lap. Our lives are put on a counter. A little plastic screen showing how m
Alex Bautista Ramirez
Mar 12
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