Lit Poetry

The ticking of the clock tells me it's time to dream, About the rise of an empire or perhaps the downfall of a king. Should it...

When the last of rose has mellowed, And faded with decay, And the warmth has fled in silence, Borne off in cold dismay, I’ll see your silhouette, underneath the...

You are a willow branch broke open. Sleek. puffed with soft. Wind breaks you down, twists you. I’ve seen you fight it, and now I say Stop. Let yourself break...

I am broken bones and scraped knuckles ........bruised knees and black eyes ........cut up arms and twisted ankles ........tear-stained cheeks and shaking hands ........screaming lungs and pounding heart ........constantly...

Today I learned the golden rule of feminism. Tip 101 of being the right kind of Feminist. I can't like the colour pink. So, this is how it works: Pink...

I am not yours to interrogate, to tear apart with attention. I gave you what I could, and all you did was ask Why. Now all I have is mental images and...

maybe happily ever afters aren't always about poisoned apples and princes riding white horses coming to take you away. maybe it doesn't involve green grass and woodland creatures. our version looked like wet pavements and...

is my least favorite store on earth. The lighting ghosts my face. The music is nauseating. And all their products remind me of little children bent over their work,...

My first encounter with death was the two raccoons stiff on the side of the road. Kayla and I brought flowers to them. When she first drove by, there...

the long summer i wished would never end. you wondered if your clammy fingers could get away with brushing against mine, measuring the weight of my thighs, tangling...