Cold water feels warm when
you’re freezing.
A kiss feels like a bullet if you
were born in war.
Leaves taste like cake if you’re
starving,
And anything can look like God if
you’ve never seen Him before.
A drunk man might mistake
the road for his bed.
A grieving family might bring
flowers to where once lay his head.
Death, if you’re suffering, might
feel like a twisted version of
Robin Hood.
Kind...
I roll my eyes. “Only one, huh?”
My hands are steady as I nock the arrow against the string, positioning it against the bow’s shelf. I hold my breath as I draw the string back—exhaling as I release it, sending it flying in a straight line and hitting the man in the forehead. He falls without another word.
I drop the bow and run. The wind cuts into my lungs, the ground crunching beneath me. I don...
I met an old man once—
a veteran.
He walked with two bouquets
clutched tight in his hands,
while fishing for bus fare,
coins slipping from his pocket.
I bent to gather them,
but he shook his head.
“If it fell, it’s meant for someone
who needs it more than me.” He said.
I didn’t question his beliefs—
just helped him on the bus.
He settled beside me, petals dropping
in his lap, and muttered softl...
It was a nice day. Not a cloud in sight. Just the warm sun, a gentle breeze, and a warmer cup of hot chocolate. The barista — or should we call him the baker? Or, even better, just by his name: Morgan?
Morgan sat in the corner of the bakery/café, absorbed in a novel on his laptop.
He took a sip of his hot chocolate, the rich scent of cocoa filling his senses, followed by a bite of his croissant....
I hope the stars part for you
as you make your way to heaven.
I hope your smiles, your laughter,
do not perish in the crossing.
And I hope you still
get to dream.
I hope your poems see outside
of bathroom stalls,
and that you live as many lives
as the ones you saved.
You were the one who said
it’s not over—
_Yet_—
and wrote a thousand reasons why.
But you know you didn’t have to;
that word al...
I notice the silence of the birds,
the sky scattered with tiny specks of light that might be stars.
I feel the bullet lodged in the back of my throat,
try to swallow it like a vitamin.
I beg the half-eaten pizza on my desk for forgiveness.
I fall to my knees, hear metal clatter against
the dirty hardwood floor, hear every voice
of my absent father.
_Just one thing. Just do one thing right._
I am ...
It comes at 11:45 PM, every single night. At first, I thought it was my punishment for staying up past my bedtime. I thought maybe I should’ve listened when mum said, “Go to sleep.” But then, one night, it started talking to me… and I started listening.
Now, it’s the seventh night since it came. I stay up again, waiting for it, my feet dangling off my bed. I’m wearing my blue-striped pajamas, the...
The boy in my science class has shoes the color of slightly burnt salmon. The laces on his right foot are longer than the ones on his left, and no matter how many times he ties them, they always drag on the floor. In gym class, while we were running a lap, I noticed the outsole of his shoe was coming apart. At lunch, I saw him taping it back together. There are faded Sharpie scribbles on the sides...
I didn’t drown today, though the water rose
to my neck, and I thought I would.
It took years of salt-filled lungs
and burning, reddened eyes to understand:
if I want to live hard enough, I will live.
My head will stay above, my limbs will feel
not like bags of concrete, but light—
like a newborn bird’s wings. The sun
will lay its warmth on my skin,
golden honey, sweet to taste. I will
float—I wil...
Seven seconds past 10PM,
my gun’s shadow
disappears
into Halloween’s night
with five imaginary
bullets in its belly and
a poor man’s death wish.
It roams the street, knocking
on every door, baring a grin
of metal teeth.
My knife’s shadow excuses
itself out of the drawer,
creeps to the fridge, grabs
a mushy plum. It carves
two eyes in its purple face and
sets it on the front step, hoping
rac...
