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  • autumn colors
    Creative

    Maple’s Soliloquy

    By Alyssa Phifer Photo by Pexel Stock Images My branches nearly brush her windowsill She sleeps inside so sweetly ’til the sun Shines through my leaves, warm green glows soft into Her dreams, her waking moments intertwined With mine—though I do not know how to sleep Or wake—I wonder what this might be like To lay my body down, to rest beneath The shade of someone else’s outstretched arms I stand still, tall and strong—my roots reach down, Dig deep to raise me higher than before I stand, I grow—she sleeps, she dreams and wakes To see her limbs seem longer, running out To share her dream with me—together, we…

  • Creative

    Done.

    By Meg Salizzoni “Mors irrumat omnia. Death fucks us all.” —Leigh Bardugo in Ninth House mors omnibus adest memento mori words meant to soothe calm prepare redirect divert numb to the eventual end of which we do not consent? instead, mors irrumat omnia. latin is a dead language already. we were doomed from the start.

  • Creative,  Events,  personal narrative

    Revenge

    by Alyssa Fallavolitti We were happy, but then you stomped on my goddamn heart. And like the fucking idiot I am, I forgave you. But that’s what I wanted you to think. I’ll admit, at first, I wanted to believe you’d change. At first, I wanted to give you another chance, but all those words you said to me replayed in my mind like a broken record. All the bruises on my body told me there was no hope for you. And like the selfish bastard you are, you thought you had the upper hand in our relationship, but it was me all along. It was all about me. Your…

  • Creative,  Events,  personal narrative

    Vengence

    By Alexis Craft We were happy. Too happy. So, I stomped on your pretty little heart. And like the fucking idiot you are, you forgave me. Or so I thought. I believed I had the upper hand in our relationship, but to my surprise, you had it all along. My mood was based around yours; our conversations were all about you and your day, and our love was on your terms. But from the outside looking in, it was pure. That stunt I pulled was meant to be our end, and it almost was, but then I decided I wasn’t done with you. I wasn’t done with the attention you…

  • close up photography of adult black and white short coat dog
    Creative,  Readings

    Felix

    By Rachel Hoarau (Photo by Pixel Free Images) My paw pads aren’t callused like my mother’s. They are soft and pink. The light is bright, and I can hardly see. Mom licks my head Says bye bye and runs out of the den I want to go out there, too! It looks so bright and green. A year has gone by and I’m running every day, Crushing green sprouts in soft soil and spilling down over the hillside, nearly falling into the chittering brook. There is another like me in the brook’s wavy water. He is red and white with deep brown eyes. I dance with him. I think he…

  • Creative,  Readings

    The Weight of Kevlar

    By Ryan Stryffeler Yesterday I was helping my daughter get ready for school She put on her Kevlar backpack while I tied her shoes “If anything happens, I love you” I said with a smile And gave her an extra-long hug to hold her close for a while And smell her thick hair, place my lips on her scalp, For a moment unconscious of anything else I looked at her then, so trusting, so pure, So ignorant of what she’ll be forced to endure They grow up so fast, everyone says But why must growing up bring her closer to death?

  • Creative,  Guest Post

    Angelica

    By Thea Angeles (Photo by Adobe Stock) Innocent and demure she may seem The moment you first encounter her; But as time goes by and by, Get to know her more And you’re in for a surprise. Yes, she’s still that ingenue you knew That fragile and innocent flower; Only later, you will find A free-spirited princess she actually is Especially in times of adrenaline and excitement.

  • Creative,  Readings

    The Doll in the Woods

    By Mackenzie Elmer (Photo by Connor Beer) I saw a dollstuck on a fencewhile walking todayin the forest dense. Her head was smashed in,her eyes were cracked.Her lovely white dressthe crows had ransacked. She looked so lonelysitting thereon rusted barbed wire,rotting in despair. I thought a lot abouttaking her home,rescuing her from her gravein the moldering loam. I’d fix her right up‘til she’s good as new.I’d clean her faceand polish her shoes. But I knew it was pointless,she was too far gone.So I looked straight aheadand quietly moved on.

  • Creative,  Readings

    The First Peril of Love

    By Aaron Caplea The first peril of love The picture of a younger man-  A sentiment of long ago; Surrounding, an old woman stands, Remembering her time: A boy and girl, both holding hands, Not seeing where the night will go; Their unrepentant heads will band Together, they will find. . A girl will lock her dreams inside; A boy does what he knows: Himself, agree to never tell The very girl his name.  The woman can recall the time:  A land that god had sown- And one that ordered fire set To any ounce of shade. . But every thought of him felt false, The memories too hard to…

  • Woman holding a glass of water and taking a pill
    Creative

    lexapro

    By Amy Myers my mind was once so loud.  knocking on my skull;  tyranny, invisible to all,   to me, never able to quiet down.  my mind was once so loud.  lit by merely one, dark cloud.    reaching out to the eye of the storm, they responded with the thought  that my cerebral fight is out of the norm  and assigned me my mask to be bought.   i waited in line with all the rest  to become numbed into a trance  and absolve the knot in my chest  with one orange bottle that i glanced.   each day i swallow a synthetic seed that slides down my throat   dissolving…