I was a fat girl. Not the funny, quirky one you see in movies who is average size in baggy clothes. Actually fat. They called me “fatty” and “chubbs.”
By Tina D. Lopeza day ago in Poets
The Swirl That Would Not Settle It pulls me in, this restless turning field, A spinning thought that never finds its end,
By George’s Girl 2026 a day ago in Poets
Ah, yes! This looks like a good spot. I’ll just lie down right here. Oh, nice and warm. Is that what you see in this?
By Mother Combsa day ago in Poets
In the back of the crowd, Things felt less … big. I hid because I was sad, Not because I was scared. I had already lost others, of course -
By Maura Bernsteina day ago in Poets
Trauma and Mental Illness This poem is about trauma and mental illness. It is about what happens when a person is harmed and does not return to the way they were before.
By Teena Quinn a day ago in Poets
White house, white walls, white hands, white family, white in a glass, nothingness and a sour stench. A hand on her hip, a scowl, a stare, how dare I let her money slip away, how dare I be so wasteful.
By Kera Hollowa day ago in Poets
Just get a job. It’s simple. Really. Update your resume. Update it again. One more time for good measure.
By Shelby Larsena day ago in Poets
The Hand Of Fatima Talisman The hand of Fatima hangs where I can feel it, not see it. Cool to touch, then part of me, like it has always been there.
Where are you, spring You did show up some Then you left for winter’s rebuff The temperature cannot make its mind Can you just finish the season in time
By Sarah Danahera day ago in Poets
The time in spring, that brings golden memories, is when apple blossoms bloom. Pink and white flowers, upon my apple tree,
By Rasma Raistersa day ago in Poets
written 1/26/2026 Marinated a couple of months and retitled to TESTIFY with a couple of edits on 3/25/2026. I hope you like:
By Victor Mendeza day ago in Poets
I long for a slow news day. You know the kind. - A story about a dog that behaves like a person. A day when death and destruction are treated as serious events, not constant background noise.
By Paul Stewarta day ago in Poets
