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Broken Serotonin Machine

By : December 28, 2020 Comments Off
There is something I must get off my chest tonightand I want you to know first of all that I'm okay and I'm not okay  The next time it happens never feels like it did beforeIt's always going to come at some pointBut it never feels like the methods I used last time would help right nowEach beast is shaped differently. I’m not sure how to tell you to help me I used to listen to the CD “When Broken is Easily Fixed” Must be nice— I’m not broken Is there a word for this? I'm not an artist I'm not a writer I'm not black  I’m not gay I'm not as smart as I pretend to be  My brain chemistry must be controlled by substances I can't control everything
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Sifting

By : December 28, 2020 Comments Off
I’m trying to sift between something tangible and something imperceptible something like that slightly wet and malleable sand that’s best for making sandcastles blue Play-Doh rubber cement cream sauce that’s been in the fridge overnight Jell-O gel medium cottage cheese or that mixture of glue, flour, and water for papier-mâché that’s too thick to work properly Something like him mansplaining the non-existent friendzone to you while you’re sitting on his face for the second time tonight, and the third time in as many days something like her messaging you on Facebook to break up with you when she has  your phone number or trying to decide if you should hold his hand or wait for her to hold yours is it too early to call her? 3 on the Kinsey
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Heaven’s Hell

By : December 27, 2020 Comments Off
when the moon was separated from the sun her flesh ripped like seams and she bled silver dust onto her lover when the sun turned away from her queen she found the sky is even more empty than hell one womb into two one heart split like an apple, its core something you wouldn't ever want to taste, but its strength lingers on the tongue. Did you enjoy this story? Subscribe to our weekly newsletter to find out when new stories are published. [hubspot portal="4679048" id="962ea2a6-7b06-442a-90fd-58a7c8a4ecc9" type="form"] Learn how to join our Writers Cohort here. Follow us:
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The Lake: A Sestina

By : December 27, 2020 Comments Off
Amid evergreen song, Mother Earth’s voice blares enough to conceal that of the boy—events that had long defined his hide from his obscurities. Was it the painted nails on masculine digits, the slight strut in his stride, or the two personalities he wore that made faces turn to an uneven arc? The same ones that upturn upon that bible verse: leviticus, sinful, a single color. Of course, the lake he stares into is stripped of its hues. Its once glinting color now stands dull with the rest of the onlookers: black and white, not enough. And though the refracted image of the boy, in hindsight, is him, neither the arc around his belt, nor his murky skin could hide his real image. An image that strings together two narratives into
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On The Journey Toward A More Authentic Me

By : August 2, 2020 Comments Off
It’s a different, new kind of day,My life is changing.I am transforming.Both are packed in the same suitcase,Waiting.Struggling.Hoping.What will the future be in all it’s infinite possibilitiesAs we’re about to embark on a journey; A journey toward a more authentic me. The journey is different than I thought it would be.Words like untethering and authenticity kept pushing me to pack.A chance to live the best life you can.A chance for my mind and body to heal.A chance for love and growth.Maybe even a chance to be truly happy.But, wait they said I can only pack five things.I panicked.I pondered.Then I knew exactly what those five things had to be. My Past;It takes up a lot of room in the suitcase.Sometimes the rest of us wonder why it is there,Especially since it
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Thanks, Babe

By : July 10, 2020 Comments Off
For late night texts, dancing in the streets;Staying home from work, playing in the sheets.Holding me when I cried, wiping tears from my eyes;For loving my heart, being there when she died.Thanks, Babe. Leaving work late, “hey babe,can you wait?”A long day turned to a long night.Red flags flying in my face, As you scream and cry.Thanks, Babe. For late night fights, screaming in the streets;Never doing the work, playing with my feelings.Holding me hostage, demanding all of my time;For loving my hurt, thriving when I died.Thanks, Babe. Leaving work in the cold, “hey you,where’d you go?”A long night turned to the last fight.Tears running down my face,As I give you one last ride.Thanks, Babe. For freeing my heart, now I can breathe;Escaped your hell, don’t ever pray for me.Held me
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