Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Poets.
Perspective
To them, you are a rainy day To me, you are dozens of puddles, waiting to be jumped in To them, you are spam mail To me, you are a long awaited letter from a lifelong friend
James StevisonPublished 7 years ago in PoetsI'm Fine
You ask me how I’m doing. What a stupid question. Because I sink and I sink and I sink in my hole of what I am. I’m not doing. I’m not. Not anything at all. But what do I say? I say I’m fine.
Althea LucePublished 7 years ago in PoetsI'm a Whore
hi, I’m a whore but no, sex will never boost my self esteem as I constantly slope deeper into depression just because you think its my profession
Ellie BelmontePublished 7 years ago in PoetsLines
Like the numbered dots in your old Wonder Woman activity book, Like the re-appearance of your old ‘70s chic; New, then old, then new again…
A. F. LittPublished 7 years ago in PoetsComing Around
She is out there. She is slowly killing my soul. I turn to her for comfort. She does not love me. I would dare to say that she did not care. I am tired of losing. I am tired of settling. Tired of her sick sense of truth. I can not take this. I will not accept this. Kharma killing me. I can not reject this. Fences unseen only to be revealed after the fact. Just got to stay away from you. Should not be hard without you being around. This is the part I hate. I am letting go of this. Kharma.
john noakesPublished 7 years ago in PoetsQuiet, We Are Dreaming
Like stone steps, the truth rose up From an earth of corruption, where Silly strings hold the complexity of The human intellect. For these pebbles,
galaxus imprumPublished 7 years ago in PoetsMother
My heart hurts Tell me you love me My chest burns Tell me you are proud My eyes water Let's laugh together But you can't
Lucia GuillenPublished 7 years ago in PoetsJust a Feeling
Can't Be to Oz I'm sorry, I'm lost. I went down a path a while ago, It feels like yesterday and a million years ago at the same time.
Lavon SwygertPublished 7 years ago in PoetsSchrödinger's Lie
to Writeto Sufferthe questions of Old embody the Authorwhat purpose? why? How? WHY? The Author ity of lifeIncomplete without Truththe Truth Above that which is Anything at all
Althea LucePublished 7 years ago in PoetsGround
Being with her was like walking barefoot on a gravel road. The rocks and bumps poke the bottom of my feet and lead me to walk carefully and lightly with every step. Doing my best to avoid the bigger bumps, bearing the pain of the smaller ones. But then, I found the sidewalk. I thought, this will be better, softer, flatter, more stable. I was able to walk normally, but only for a short time before the cracks began to trip me up, and the hot concrete began to burn. Then I started to walk quicker, in hopes that the faster my steps the less it would burn. But instead i was left with burns and scrapes on my feet from running on the concrete. I thought to myself, will i ever find something sturdy to plant myself on? Will i ever find my ground? And then the sidewalk ended, the road was a dead end, and all that was left was grass, wet with dew. I stepped into it, and the grass healed all the pain the road and sidewalk had caused. The soft blades of green grass gave my feet a thousand kisses. The dew eased the burns and cleaned the scrapes. And I'd found my ground.
James StevisonPublished 7 years ago in PoetsSilent
Silent just stay silent But I'm thinking out loud No It's just that voice again You know that voice you get in your head
Lucia GuillenPublished 7 years ago in PoetsSept. 25, 2016
I can feel my heart breaking more and more with each second that passes. The gnawing feeling in my gut that something is wrong, grows with each breath I take.
Jessica RasilePublished 7 years ago in Poets