elementia
January
By Oli RayIt’s not January. It just isn’t. The leaves are green and dance together in hoards above my head, almost mocking me in their togetherness as I shrink into my loneliness.
An Ode to My Innocence
By Kathryn MalnightYou ruffled dress.
You lip glossed,
clean tongued, classy individual.
room 502
By Amanda PendleyIf time could be measured in words
I would handwrite novels until my knuckles bled
Analyze every single piece written by Steven King twice
Type poems so complex so that the meaning gets lost
Construct every screenplay to give you the ending you deserve
ambition, love, ambition
By Samiya RasheedHours are not spent well in lethargy
nor in deep-seated exhaustion
Hours are rarely spent
more – lost