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Sad Girl Diaries
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May 11, 20221 min read
“My Flower, My Flower” - Niko Eden
She moved her fingers Along shadowed curvature, Feeling the hollow strength Of such a stem. Her repleteness beguiled me With strength She...
May 9, 20221 min read
To the Mountains - Eve Girzadas
In altitude, I awaken to still dark Yet August sheds nighttime with haste, Bathing in the reddening dawn as the earliest light Showers a...
May 7, 20221 min read
The Last Day of Summer - Laura Plummer
The months between second and third grade are a lacuna in my memory, save for the final day. Its details flood me with cruel clarity,...
May 1, 20221 min read
Leaving My Younger Self - Matilda Bray
Bury me With Slinky’s that intertwine Metallic twang No more Twilight purple and Fanta orange Dollar store Bury me with sticky jams In...
Apr 29, 20222 min read
Provenance - Shannon Vesely
Why do you do this? my daughter asks. I’m wiping clean a piece of used aluminum foil, then folding it into a neat square to be stacked...
Apr 26, 20221 min read
Leaving - Syd Shaw
I left in winter, ice clinging to my eyelashes, slammed the car door and drove to a cheap motel. I left my guitar behind, came back the...
Apr 25, 20221 min read
KNIGHT WILL NEVER BE KING - Ariya Mamun
When the boy is on his knees for you, you will be the one who knights him. Slicing into his shoulders ever so slightly. Shallow cuts...
Apr 21, 20221 min read
HORSESHOECRABS - Amanda Boyanowski-Morin
Seventh grade I learned of Virginia Woolf. A kindred - For I have always carried beach stones in my pocket. Small and smooth, never...
Apr 13, 20222 min read
My Temple - Ty Franklin
You pass me a red cup full of soda and vodka Making sure that it never goes completely empty. The hum of the fluorescent lights beating...
Mar 26, 20221 min read
what safe feels like - Kiera Obbard
when you grow up in chaos, you never really learn what safe feels like. the fear of your parents’ arguments the shame of leaving with...
Mar 24, 20221 min read
This poem would be called ‘November’, if that weren’t cliche - Sylvia Foster
My mom is burning leaves and there is ink drying. The smoke is white this morning, and doesn’t stray from its column. Its smell is...
Mar 22, 20222 min read
The Crab - Sabrina Herrmann
Who am I? Who have I been? Who do I want to be? My name is Sabrina Herrmann my initials sound like ‘essay’ if you say them fast enough I...
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