Cali Loria

Joined June 2021

0 stories

Bio

Over punctuating, under delivering.

Achievements (1)

Runner-Up in After the Parade Challenge

Stories (33/0)

You, Me, and ADD
Distress Intolerance Shifts Toward Roving Attention Copious Thoughts Impulsive Onslaught of Novelty
By Cali Loria4 months ago in Poets
Written on, Mostly
I etched the soundtrack to my life on my skin. My high school bedroom was neon green, painted with slapdash song lyrics and an accompanying "Like a Prayer" mural painted across the accordion closet doors. What resonated with me most when listening to music was always the lyrics. The jump to turning my love of lyricism into a full-blown cutaneous affair was natural for a wannabe musician with no musical talent that turned to poetry to get it all out.
By Cali Loria4 months ago in Beat
Hemingway Had Hadley
fiery fiction flourished frequently following former flame fading from forefront fondness “I wish I had died before I ever loved anyone but her.”
By Cali Loria6 months ago in Poets
Imbibe-becile
There once was a woman that got sober to stave off her self-destruction roller coaster but the alcohol industry says there's something wrong with me
By Cali Loria7 months ago in Poets
Office Notes
Nurse for Doctor says: Three pregnancies: Two living One dead. Nod. Confirm.
By Cali Loria7 months ago in Poets
Meta-whore
digital shrine, fed my ego to the feed, greed my past tense filtered
By Cali Loria7 months ago in Poets
Rorschach
time heals all wounds as pen scratches paper so that scars become stories
By Cali Loria7 months ago in Poets
Cali-graphy
“Romantic love is a beautiful thing under the right circumstances. But those circumstances are so specific and rare.” ― Taylor Jenkins Reid, One True Loves
By Cali Loria8 months ago in Poets
This life, This vice
Water: named for Callista means most beautiful: Mother made me this thirsty Air: smoking in winter is bad for you, but the air
By Cali Loria8 months ago in Poets
Influ(encer)enza
The men sat around the table staring into their espressos, crema dissipating toward the demitasse horizon. When finally one spoke, the others picked up their cups to sip fastidiously as if on cue.
By Cali Loria9 months ago in Fiction
Little Children
my mother taught me how to starve I see why I became this resented that I trauma'd so loudly so proudly there's a constant need
By Cali Loria9 months ago in Poets
Pharmacokinetics
little blue pill: men swallow their genital woe spit out laws for wombs
By Cali Loria9 months ago in Poets