To Heal
A collection of Poems on the process of healing.
April 19th, 2019 | Creative Writing
Running
By Daylen Conserve
it’s 4am and i have a man on my mind
he likes to run
he does laps all the time
my head spins
i can feel my heart thudding
it’s been awhile since i’ve done cardio
i can’t keep up
i toss and turn
left, right, left, right
there are only a few corners distance between me and him
i wanna run into his arms
Negative space
By R. L. Taylor
What I wish I did not see, lumps of my being.
The space between the skyscrapers, shaping this stained city, they’re not the ones moving the clouds around. They might just wait for a chance to grow on their own, if for once we let them eat, so empty of meaning.
Summer Night September
By Nina Dumornay
Summer night, crickets chirping
Guilt seeps through the bug screen, flits past the mosquito net
Tries to get me
Internal Shadows
By Briahna Mctigue
And by the valley through and through,
This shadow, how it clings to you
Like a monster in the night
Stalks you in its fevered plight
And seeks you out by and by
Through its withered eye,
While one may run, he cannot hide
To where his truth becomes a lie
For when the creature takes it hold
Of weary thicket and crooked bone,
The man’s release of whistle tones
Announce a soul’s descent to home
Where blood turned evil is blood born good,
Bloomed together in tethered wood.
So for one to wander on past the trees
Is for one to beg, to wish and plea
And if said plea is acted through,
The woods will surely turn on you
And swallowed whole, you will but be -
Alone, in flame’s eternity
Side Effects
By Mimi Sherman
Seven pills cut in half (5 mg)
then thirty full ones (10 mg)
then thirty full ones (x12)
and I should start to feel an improvement in four to six weeks.
Week one I feel nauseous. Week two I can't sleep. Week three I have dry mouth. Week four is too busy to tell.
I notice the good days when I finally have a bad one. It seems like an improvement, but I wonder if I might need a higher dose (20 mg).
(How do I notice something if it's the way I always feel?)
Zoya Najabi
By Sirena Stathopoulos
Girls are unlucky, in the city of Kabul
Drowned and poisoned for being born
His mother, his sister are no strangers
There are more than misogynistic men in the equation
Drowned and poisoned for being born
Surviving is a war zone
There are more than misogynistic men in the equation
Fighting back is a death sentence
Surviving is a warzone
Click, click, boom, just like that
Fighting back is a death sentence
Do as you’re told, you might get lucky
Click, click, boom, just like that
Imagine one of your own doing that
Do as you’re told, you might get lucky
Her soul forever marked by her kind
Imagine one of your own doing that
Full of influence, full of hatred
Teaching the wrong subject to our own
The teacher is the man, the student is the woman
Full of influence, full of hatred
Taken in and given out
The teacher is the man, the student is the woman
Rules are simple, minds are complex
Taken in and given out
His mother, his sister are no strangers
Rules are simple, minds are complex
Girls are unlucky, in the city of Kabul