Sanctuary

a 50-word story by Matthew The butcher continuously diced, ten blindfolded anarchists kneeled with a rusty bathtub in front of them, a rope tying their arms together. “Those signs are lies. This isn’t a sanctuary. People just want euphoria.  …Less scavenging, you never know how it tastes unless you try it,” Chuck remarked. Matthew is…

Eli

a poem in free verse by Shana I take him, he calms. Time stops and I dare to breathe. He’s my small angel. I see him grow fast. Toddling, eyes bright as day. Gurgling, I love. First birthday with cake: He doesn’t share toys, they’re his! Third birthday, he’s proud. Now he runs faster. Now…

For Any Beginning Skaters…

 a memorable word/phrase inspired this piece by Teresa — She lies collapsed on the ground, exhaustion evident in her rapid breaths. Planting her feet back onto the unyielding battlefield that has rendered her so powerless will remain an unexplored option. One may assume her dead if her tongue was dangling from the side of her…

The Fortress

a lyric poem by Chrystal —- Educational establishments are safe places. They were. For everyone but me. I belonged there but not everywhere it encompassed. The walls that kept students safe from the outside did not keep them safe from each other. I faked strength but not well enough. Never enough. She always had more…

BLACK FOLK’S LEAGUE

a company created by Melissa BLACK FOLK’S LEAGUE is a store meant for the people who are black and proud & would love to show it off. This brand was made for those who want to show their pride throughout their clothes. If they cant hear us say it, we might as well wear it!…

Belief in Doubt

a lyric poem by Erica Things will end up badly, I believe. I cannot do much but be apprehensive of the future. Somewhere along the way I might become stranded from thinking too far out, leaving everyone behind for a world that may never exist, but I just need reassurance, comfort, condolence. I’ve been reduced…

Power of Words

a prose poem by Qainat — With a flick of my wrist, I jot down the first stream of venom that flows from the tip of my pencil to attack this very paper. I can write in quick, short, choppy sentences. They’re small. They’re tough. They knock you down. You don’t expect it. The sudden…