Free Verse
A New Normal
Right. Right. Just make sure the jar’s not labeled “Abby.” Normal seems good. Yes, there is. There’s a town named Normal. Their baseball team, the Corn Belters, a mascot named Corny have they. I’ll spit out that piece for sure and we can start over again from there using that.
By Canute Limarider6 months ago in Poets
Stones in my neck. Top Story - June 2026.
There are blackened stones in my neck just under my vocal cords. They are alive— pulsing, shining Stygian from a flame I might never see. They were placed there by my mother, my father, teachers, lovers, friends— every hand that taught me: a woman's name is silence. So I stayed quiet for years faithful to that name covering my mouth each time I spoke to hide the fact that I spit flames. But the older I get, the harder it is to tame the fire within me. It flares on its own, lashes from my mouth like fireflies drunk on honeydew and twilight. It burns everything it touches, flows down my throat like molten lava— filling my rib cage with overwhelm, chaos and sacred rage. There are stones in my neck swelling, choking me each time I obey my new name. Pressing, burning me alive. I keep digging, tearing my flesh with charred fingers. One by one I pick them out: Carmine diamonds torn from jeweled crowns still holding onto the carbon copies of who they used to be before the fire the world lit inside me nearly burned my truth away. Hands full of bloody gemstones I finally breathe again. Flames, now dancing in my eyes— as I watch the old world burn away.
By Imola Tóth6 months ago in Poets
