A Dead Lover

A Dead Lover by Shriyanshi Yadav

I think my love is meant for someone
who ceased existing centuries ago,
and now all I have is grief to hold in my hands
and stupid poems I wrote in the washroom of my school,
in the name of love.

When I look into the eyes of another stranger
I hope they would smile
because my lips are too cracked to give one
but all they do is look away
like I am not a thing to look at
with compassion,
like my soul doesn’t deserve this kindness.

I stay up till three
thinking if only love could save us from ourselves
or it is just another line,
I read in random suicide letters found on the internet.

The moon hanging on my half misted glass window
is just as alone as me
with all the stars miles away from him.
and while I cry between these four pastel-coloured walls,
he hides behind the grey clouds,
screaming in his own sky.
that I can’t even touch.

My grandmother’s favourite flower
was lavender.
She recited the fragrance of it by heart,
and her house was always filled with purple candles and oils.
even though she never held a petal of it between her fingers,
she loved it.
she loved it,
as people loved random poetries in the margin of notebooks.
or the lit Christmas lights hanging over an empty house.


When she died, grandpa silently placed a stalk of lavender in her hand,
before she was taken away.
I hoped,
one day I would love someone
as my grandma loved that flower,
too poetic to not touch its skin for a lifetime
but leave its scent lingering in every poem I write.

<strong>Shriyanshi Yadav</strong>
Shriyanshi Yadav

An eighteen-year-old,
who is deeply in love
with poems and this beautiful world.

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Porcelain Doll

Porcelain Doll by Serena Morrigan

These lips have lost their colour
These eyes have lost their shine
I know where it all went wrong
But I was too frozen to move
Change hurt more than trauma
So I left it all as it was for you
Putting on lipstick every day
Wiping the tears off my cheeks
You’d never know how I truly felt
I’ve turned into a porcelain doll
I exist, yes, but am I alive?

<strong>Serena Morrigan</strong>
Serena Morrigan

Serena started writing poetry in high school as a means to deal with bullying. She only recently started writing again after a traumatic experience. By openly talking about mental health issues, she hopes to end the stigma and help people feel less alone with their struggles.

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Transforming Through Ecdysis

Transforming Through Ecdysis by Sakina Mohammed

Slithering around
So grounded and oblivious
Seemingly harmless..
But if you know me
You will be aware
At the point of insecurity
To hissssssss
Is the only defence I know..
The poison in me,
Becoming the enemy
Of my own conscience..
My love too
Knows no bounds,
My emotions and expressions
Have the strength to crush you
In the toughness of my embrace..
My exterior becoming unbearable now,
The roughness from slithering through
And surviving in wilderness
Has worn out my skin!
My encounters have matured me
Beyond the layers that protect
My flexible, mushy vertebrae.
I am a new snake in process,
Making efforts to slide through
My own distressed skin.
Leave me undisturbed in my solitude
While I live my ecdysis of transforming!
I shall still hiss,
I shall still love with magnitude
I shall still carry incurable venom…
But yet the new version of myself
After surviving this transformation:
I shall hold wider perspectives
I shall see through brighter visions
I shall understand the importance
Of maturing and sliding out
Of the boundaries
Of my own worn out, distressed snake-skin!

A Moment in Time by Sakina Mohammed

To feel waves of passion,
Surges of spark and intensity
Flowing wildly through my entirety!

To be embraced in your brawn, Enveloped in your fortitude..
Just us among wilderness and solitude!

To enamor so deep and indulgently
Into your tender, warm zeal..
While all abyss shall heal!

To find undue pacifism,
Beyond hope or depiction..
Feeling as though fabricated fiction!!

Such a moment in time
When longevity shall freeze…
While our souls solemnize in ease…

<strong>Sakina Mohammed</strong>
Sakina Mohammed

I’m Sakina Mohammed, an aspiring Srilankan poet, a full-time mom and a creative chaos managing a few of my own small passion projects. Poetry to me is therapy and a form of escape. I write motivational content on emotional and mental wellbeing, also on love and life realities. I wish to publish my book someday, but currently I share my work on my  Instagram page: @sakinas_expressions

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A Parallel Universe

A Parallel Universe by Simona Filiposka

In a parallel universe
I hold your hand
and I smile
at your silly face
and those pretty eyes.
In a parallel universe
you play me songs
that you like
and I begin to like them too
so we sing together
and dance,
dance under the moonlight.

In a parallel universe
we go on dates
in hidden bookstores,
we read poetry
and pretend
we understand
Shakespeare.

In a parallel universe
you buy me flowers
and take me to the beach
where we watch the sun set
and the pigeons fly.
The sea smells like freshness,
it smells like you.

In a parallel universe
this is not a dream.
We’ve met
and I recognise your face,
I regonise your heart
and I have you here with me.
I hold you close.

<strong>Simona Filiposka</strong>
Simona Filiposka

A 16-year-old high school student who loves reading and writing cause it takes her into an unknown inner world with endless possibilities of what could be.

She loves writing about/to her soulmate she hasn’t met yet, but she hopes one day she will. She also writes about feminism, self love, mental health and other things that run through her mind.

Besides poetry, she likes foreign languages, traveling and music!

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The Still of the Night

The Still of the Night by Matthew John

Something about the still of the night,
brings such peace and clarity,
when nothing is moving
nothing can go wrong,
within the grasp of silence
bliss is found.

Untitled #31 by Matthew John

It’s not about the love that we had,
it’s about the lives we created,
by having been in love
and falling entirely apart.

<strong>Matthew John</strong>
Matthew John

Matthew is a Poet and Author from Burlington, Ontario, Canada. At 25 years of age, Matthew plans to expand his work into a full published collection in the upcoming year. With so many shared experiences and emotions throughout life, Matthew hopes to give people a sense of togetherness through his words.

For more information, on previously published works, published short stories, and all other writings from Matthew. Follow him on Instagram @matthewjohnpoetry

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Drops of Faith

Drops of Faith by Diana Menezes

Your eyes help me see what I cannot,
Your hands pacify my fading spirit.
Holding my broken heart,
I walk in your shadow
to carry me to brighter days,
where numbing pain exists no more,
and your light within me stays.
You lift me higher than mountains,
showering me with jewels of hope,
My heart holds on to pearly dreams,
with you, I am stronger to cope.
You draw my forgotten smiles again,
and I’m drowning in glittering wishes so innate.
Clouds of joy are mine to hold,
Thank you for being with me, Faith.

<strong>Diana Menezes</strong>
Diana Menezes

I’m a wife and a doting mother to my son who’s almost 5 now. I have a deep passion for writing and reading, and I love penning inspirational poetry/prose on hope, life, survival, love, and everything in between. 🙂

My dream is to get a collection of my poetry published one day and sprinkle my readers with a bit of my stardust. 🙂

I’d like to end by saying… Never Give Up! Dreams do come true if you really wish them from your heart.

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Red

Red by Taylor Wade

I kiss you and bleed

You speak in thorns
and no matter how
I try, I cannot seem
to find the roses

<strong>Taylor Wade</strong>
Taylor Wade

Taylor Wade is an aspiring writer in her late twenties. She’s currently majoring in Psychology and plans to use that knowledge to enrich her future works. At the moment, Taylor is focused on writing her debut novel but still makes time to read, binge Netflix, and teach herself how to play the piano.

As a writer, she uses her words to purge strong emotions and experiences catharsis by turning them into something beautifully imperfect. Taylor is deeply inspired by people. Especially their hearts, minds, and the dichotomy that exists inside of them. 

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Symphony of Night

Symphony of Night by Aubree Barnum

A symphony of night.

With snow softly chiming, pine needles shaking in rhythm.

Icicles ringing high pitched, echoing.

The overwhelming calm blanketing all with a moonlight interlude.

Spirits of Winter’s past whisper over the frozen ground, breathing life into the barren scene.

Their dance is haunting, ghostly, but snowflakes swirl as they spin.

And once it’s done, peace reigns again.

<strong>Aubree Barnum</strong>
Aubree Barnum

Aubree has been writing since she was 14 years old. Her two literary loves are poetry and fantasy writing.

Aubree encompasses magic and mystery into a lot of her words. She also loves to write honestly about depression, anxiety, and being a mom. She gathers a lot of inspiration from fellow writers in the Instagram community and loves to support them.

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Nostalgia Stage Call

Nostalgia Stage Call by Jemma Chawla

Steamrolled daily by your emerging talents
Since birth, it’s been my job to coach you
One day you’ll play lead
Your very own life production
Unconsciously in rehearsal
No need to audition
Acts played out in front of me
Motherhood matinee
Casting your own cast
You’re growing up too fast
Momentarily slide into my private box
You’re in crisp, sharp focus
Spotlight is soft
The auditorium snaps me back with roars of ferocious approval
I also applaud you, always
Can I extend the intermission and be delighted by your immaturity a little longer?
I know this confirms your growth
Dependency being swapped for
independent stage direction
Could the stage momentarily
please
stand
still
I’ll be lovingly waiting for what’s to come in your encore

<strong>Jemma Chawla</strong>
Jemma Chawla

Jemma Chawla lives in Greater London, UK. She enjoys writing poetry and short fictional stories.
She writes to capture memories and process her emotions. As well as it being a great creative outlet, she also finds it a form of therapy.


She enjoys writing pieces that are relatable, in the hope they offer a safe space for readers to talk and that it contributes to normalising stigmatised topics.


Her current aspiration is to complete and publish her first anthology.

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Seen

Seen, this phot of a woman with a rose in front of her face. Seen is a poem

Seen by Emily Way-Evans

Seeing myself
Through your eyes
Is addictive
Just a glimpse
Through those glasses
Clean and rose tinted
I am hooked
To this sugar-coated view
Of my life
I want to climb inside your head
And watch the re-runs
My top ten best bits
Maybe stock up some memories
While I’m there
I want to be filled to the brim
With your admiration
Of this version of me
That you see
And then hope that it rubs off
Onto my self esteem
To rekindle some love
For the version I see

<strong>Emily Way-Evans</strong>
Emily Way-Evans

Emily is a mother and an arts administrator by day and an amateur writer by night. She discovered writing as a therapeutic creative outlet after joining a class during maternity leave, and whilst experiencing an intense period of post-natal depression.

She continues to write in as many moments of solitude as possible and shares her work on Instagram under the name @emilywaywrites

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