Thunder Woman

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…sacrifices with her cancerous-pallors

eating men like air with black sweet blood mouthfuls

there beneath the bloody trap you’ll see

these hoods of bone don’t shine for we.

Lasso the neck for love is gone-

In the house of barn, the calm will come

put down your swords, the battle is won

The jar consumes the chime of the bell…

By Jasmine Dine

Website: https://theunsweetenedalmond.blogspot.com/

Facebook URL: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100015168728628

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What is Race?

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What is race? is it me? is it you? is it a color? is it culture?
What is race? Some say it's a nationality. Some actually believe it's just the color of the skin. But what is race to me? Race is a form of division, a way to separate natural human life and place a stigma upon human individuals. I don't believe in race because in all actuality technically we are but One race which is human. So what is race? My idea of race is a method to form...

By Jesus Pagan

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Beautiful as I am

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You were always right
I was always wrong
You were always big
I was always small
You mistook my kindness
for weakness,
but your cruelty didn't make
you strong; 
never let me speak so I learned
to carve myself in silence
writing words on the page instead
but then you didn't want
my silence either
just control—
I've found and reclaimed my voice
will not be a prisoner 
of your nightmares or…

By Linda M. Crate

Twitter: thysilverdoe

Facebook URL: https://www.facebook.com/Linda-M-Crate-129813357119547/

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Intrusion

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Everything I am able to be...
Being alone.
Feeling safe-but also captured in myself.
Isolated but feeling occupied with painful memories. Soldiers who bother me, want to destroy this last tiny willingness to stay in contact with the present. Me.
With the world which is hard and makes you cry but then it dries your cheeks with sunshine and bird chants tell you everything's okay.
But then this kind of world catches you where the pictures are painted with fear, disgust,guilt...and this painful shame.
Shame which forbids to share your history...these experiences you'd hope to be released from.
But you persist and keep quiet. Staying alone.
Because you can't endure the thought to be considered by someone more as...filthy and stained...

By Maren Frühlinger

Twitter: Maren_Sky

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My Last Memory

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In this span of time, between life and not, I am awarded the time to remember it all. 

All those moments which made up my life unravel before me at the speed of light. 

Insignificant are the ticks of days and the tocks of night as the hours chime with memories of smiles and tears and joys and fears. 

If I had to choose only one, which would it be? 

One birthday, a graduation, a wedding, a child’s birth?

No, none of these would suffice to be my last memory of my life.

It would be the moment I cherish most, I remember most, I wish to relive most. . .

It would be the moment I first told you, 

I love you.

By: Paul Toritto

Facebook URL: www.facebook.com/toabbywithlove

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