Lifeless limbs caress the forlorn floor, A lingering scent of melancholic misery Kisses air as stagnant as a heart That has ceased to be a muscle To be molded into the container for a love As broken as itself. Fluttering fingers wander over cracked skin That used to be silk and sin Interwoven by a steady hand. I can’t even touch myself anymore Because with all this loneliness Creeping through my voracious veins It feels too much like yours
My name is Artemis, though I go by Krissi offline, which sounds considerably less mysterious and substantially more practical. Writing has always been a passion of mine – as has been alliteration-heavy poetry like my alias suggests.
I started writing novels at the age of 13, though inventing and writing stories has been an integral part of my existence ever since I can remember. Poetry has accompanied me for many years now—which makes me sound a lot older than the 20 years I am—it’s my way of exploring my innermost feelings and the world around me.
For me, writing has always felt as if words and images were simply invading my mind and pouring out of my fingertips onto the paper – which usually translates to fanatical typing on my phone. It appears I’m merely the medium for my thoughts and feelings, allowing them to enter physical existence.
Thank you for taking the time to get to know me a little better. If you enjoy my work and are interested in catching a glimpse of my mind, I welcome you to visit me on Instagram under @alliterative_artemis
The waves of you, they pull me under Memories of who we used to be Like an anchor, they drag me deeper And I’m finding it hard to breathe
There’s a storm that’s surging through I swim against the current of you and me I should’ve run after you When you turned around, but I watched you leave
Slowly, the pain subsides But every now and again, those tides will rise And I won’t lie, I’ve cried So I let go, and dream that you’re still by my side
Because with you, I can breathe underwater
I just want to say, “I’m sorry, love” I wish I could be everything you need I know “sorry” won’t be enough No words can fix the wounds that cut too deep
Baby, I hope you don’t feel like me Barely breaking the surface Waiting for the hurt to roll back out to sea
Sure, it gets hard sometimes And yeah, I know the tides will rise No, I won’t lie, I cry I let go, and dream you’re by my side
Because with you, I can breathe underwater
J. Rylee D.
I’m just a 26-year-old girl who spends her life daydreaming. I have always been an avid reader and writer, but recently published my poetry and a book on a public platform.
I like to portray honest and raw vulnerability in my work because life isn’t always pretty. I want to inspire people to fight for their happiness and to tell their truths, because they deserve to be heard and know that they are believed, and that they matter!
Dust it’s everywhere, it’s covering all the dreams my naïve head framed.
Echos in this empty room are filling my ears that are aching for a sound.
Darkness as an obscure cloud, hovering over me, weighing me down.
Void destroying my heart, destroying my soul, making a mere shell of a human out of me.
Radana J Keenan
Radana J Keenan is a 20-year-old Slovakian dreamer. From very early on, she’s always had her fingers stuck in something creative, whether it was making jewelry, writing stories and poems or drawing.
She’s trying to find her place in this big bad world and decided she might as well try to pursue a career in creative writing since she loves it almost as much as breathing. Books, movies and TV shows were always perceived as the best way to escape the hard reality, but Radana always felt like there was something missing. That something was her voice in a sea of buzz.
When I was in darkness You lit up a bridge Across the river. We crossed it and walked All over the city. We got drunk, We soared from bar to bar, Birds free to float about Knowing no one would hurt us. You’d never let them. Then we went home Wankered. I told you that You’ll always mean the world to me.
If Photonic Velocity Remains Constantby Nathan Sweem
No one will hear her words, Daylight trapped inside The gravitational field Of a black star. Too much to say, anyway. Makes time slow. And loneliness heavy. To say that time slows Near the stellar core Is to say that distance expands; The two are equivalent. Her spirit eats itself alive A femtometer at a time While the universe speeds away Without her.
Nathan Sweem served as an Army linguist for five years. He holds degrees in arabic studies, mathematics, and data analytics. He currently writes novels, short stories, poetry, and creative non-fiction.
On the bank slender cattails reach out and tall grasses with clouds of swirling insects bite the air.
John Hansen received a BA in English from the University of Iowa and MA in English Literature from Oklahoma State University. His work has appeared in The Summerset Review, The Pluralist, Philological Review, The Griot: The Journal of African American Studies, PopMatters, and Philosophy Pathways.
John’s hobbies include golf, tennis, basketball, and flawlessly executing pranks on his wife with the help of his children. He is English Faculty at Mohave Community College in Arizona.
I wish I could do something, But loving love wasn’t as easy as loving someone,
It had to be carefully done, love was weak-hearted, one anger stroke and ways, it parted
a little hate snow could cause an avalanche because baby love isn’t someone with whom you can play around,
and a little ignorance axe can cut love’s whole branch, so this time I let love leave, but someday in my life, I believe, love will return.
Hi guys, I am Tanvi. I am a 15-year-old student from India and I’ve recently discovered the writer side of mine. Writing helps me believe that if freedom can be found with beautiful poetry, then it can definitely be found in real life!
I gave myself scars by loving you, Your skeptic waves washed over my shore, Where I played for years and years, You planted seeds of doubt, Deep into the corners of my mind, As I walked like a ghost in the background, Always fading away into the crowd, Afraid of having the spotlight on me, Afraid of someone picking apart my flaws, So I went to bed at nights, Thinking I was so flawed, Nobody could love me, Because on most days, All I felt was your coldness, Cutting my self worth into shreds, As I silently withdrew into my shell, Hurting, swallowing your words, Into the deepest parts of my mind, That I am flawed and unlovable.
But in all my years with you, I never knew love this hard, When I can stand in front of the mirror, Count all my scars and smile, And I promise this time, I won’t pick on my scars again, I won’t let them bleed, Because now, I know I love myself so tenderly, None of my lovers never could, Someday there may be somebody, Who could love me the way I do, Who could love who they are like I do now, Until then, This is me and my scars.
I’m 21 and currently pursuing an education in the medical field.
There’s nothing I love more than reading and writing. Writing allows me to dive deep into my inner self and understand it in a way like a fog being cleared up in my head. It’s helped me become emotionally and mentally healthy as a person.
I find that words have so much power—they can heal you or break you. So I use writing as a way to heal my inner wounds and I also hope to help people out with theirs through my writing.