Top Stories
Stories in Poets that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
Infidelity
engulfed in her, seaweed hair buffed secular friction between her unibrow. Etched with intoxicating finesse. Camel molars winced crooked in her mouth as she relaxed her tongue,
Natasha CollazoPublished 4 days ago in PoetsWriting is my Addiction
Writing is my addiction. I don’t see it as an affliction even though it continues in repetition. I have to write everyday. Life holds no real sense of glory unless I’m in my writing closet crafting a story.
Joe PattersonPublished 2 days ago in PoetsThe Moon is Chaos
Even now, I think about your vulnerable waxing, clinging to us with a bold strobe-light, spotlight, nestling your tragedies
Mackenzie DavisPublished 4 days ago in PoetsAsk Me In December
Ask me in December If I love you And I will close my eyes and smile I will take my time before I speak I will breathe you in like a candle of pine
angela hepworthPublished 6 days ago in PoetsLow Whistles
The wind has a low whistle, coming from the north east. It’s the end of April. The wind shouldn’t be coming from the north east.
Diana PennPublished 4 days ago in PoetsTry These
How carefully some choose the right footwear Occasion, mood, height, weight, color and style Collapse the search parameters; they care
D. J. ReddallPublished 3 days ago in PoetsTurning
“I don’t know what I would do without you,” turns to “I don’t know what to do with you,” turns to “I don’t know,”
Sam Eliza GreenPublished 4 days ago in PoetsI Should Have Asked For Better
Here is Bab's unofficial challenge piece: *** I kept asking for December because it's the only time I remembered the season matched my state of mind
Alexandria StanwyckPublished 4 days ago in PoetsThe Meeting Place
The sky is a brilliant topaz blue; not a cloud in sight. There is a gentle breeze warmed by the overhead sun. A faint tinkling sound, like delicate glass windchimes is carried on the breeze.
J. Delaney-HowePublished 6 days ago in PoetsTrapped With A Neurodivergent Mind
I did not ask to be this way, to live with the reminder that I am always going to be different. It's like a prison and I'm doing my life sentence.
Angel AdagioPublished 5 days ago in PoetsTo the Stars
Evanescence has two faces—but none can be seen. Cast your spells. Do. I won't intervene. Loosen your grip. Lose your head. Let it go.
"PERILOUS CLIMB"
PERIOLOUS CLIMB STRUGGLING TO GET BACK TO THE TOP Expressions of struggling and climbing to the top again a perilous journey of being human.
Vicki Lawana TrusselliPublished 9 days ago in Poets