Stream of Consciousness

Fragmented Reflection. Top Story - September 2026.
It took half a lifetime to look in the mirror. At some point I couldn't bear to see my reflection. I think it was sometime between angsty tween and teenage dirtbag.
By C.M.Dallas21 days ago in Poets
Decay
I sit at the edge of the room Faded voices, laughter I used to join in That was before, this is after After, the split between
By Raine Fielder21 days ago in Poets
The Room I Grew Up In
I grew up in a room with walls painted green Walls that could trap you inside Walls that called your name and invited you to stay
By Ty21 days ago in Poets
Rehab Requiem. Top Story - September 2026.
Wernicki-Korsakoff Syndrome. Ventricles enlarging. Confabulation. Brain atrophy. Down-regulated souls. Deliberate cold exposure.
By Paul Aaron Domenick22 days ago in Poets
Unbought
Touches—the way they used to bind from your fingertips could make me lie down in the As I face limerence for another while you chase what you lost in me.
By Caitlin Charlton22 days ago in Poets
Labeled in Three
They say I have ADD. They say I need RSP. They say it’s in the IEP. *** Silly letters in the name But for me it is all the same *** But my identity, you see comes in three.
By Dean Traylor22 days ago in Poets
The Law Within
I have sought the sacred in the order of the world, where every life proceeds beneath a law profound, where birth and death are moments in a greater turning, and every living creature travels toward the ground from which all forms arise and into which they pass, like waves that rise upon the timeless sea and lose their separate names within its vastness, yet leave their motion living in eternity.
By Tim Carmichael22 days ago in Poets
A RESPoNSE AGHASTLY
Author's note: every word is intentional. Every misspelling is intentional. I rarely refine or rewrite anything because I live off the rawness of each word and the tearing off a bandaid is to feel the pain behind the healing-intentional.
By Victor Mendez22 days ago in Poets
Maybe I Wasn’t Late After All
I arrived late. Not dramatically late. Just late enough to notice that everyone else already knew what was happening. The lights were down.
By Sujan Aryal23 days ago in Poets
When October Starts Calling: The Quiet Memories I Felt in August
There are certain feelings that seem to appear before there is any logical reason for them. For me, autumn has always been one of them.
By Sujan Aryal23 days ago in Poets
When the Hologram Cries
What lies beyond The ever broken window’s wake Who do you hug When the hologram cries Who cares when the automaton makes a mistake
By Atomic Historian23 days ago in Poets
The Man I Could Be
I sit behind the guy – a random man – I could be, broad shoulders, peach fuzz, a hazel smolder, curled hair dances at his nape as fabric drapes
By caitodoesstuff23 days ago in Poets