Free Verse

Among the Cypress
maybe we’re both just passing time here on the ground—you, a creature of the sky and me, more comfortable in water than on land.
By Harper Lewis4 days ago in Poets
Silence
I let him hit me spit in my face to protect not me not them but her. We’ve been through this before the chains, the glass,
By Tennessee Garbage4 days ago in Poets
Alone in a Dream
Hey, you. I wanted to let you know that I heard your cry. I listened and I understood. I hear you. Sometimes I like to think about my place in the universe, and I close my eyes and I imagine that whatever it is that makes myself me, body and soul, is a single atom amongst the infinite fabric of space and time.
By Amos Glade4 days ago in Poets
Why the How
a million memories, azaleas, camellias, and dogwoods. Wisteria. fragments of who I was, who you thought I was, who you were, who I thought you were.
By Harper Lewis4 days ago in Poets
More Than 4 Walls
Lush ground through bare feet, amongst butterflies on daisies, A bonfire’s blaze stirring unspoken awe, billowing smoke trailed into a starry night
By Danielle Eckhart4 days ago in Poets
Cheers!
Pencil, pencil in my hand I wish I were the best writer in the land Round and round in my head These thoughts seem full of lead
By Mother Combs4 days ago in Poets
Lordhair Launches the Hair Industry's First AI Search for People with Hair System
Finding the right hair system used to feel like navigating a maze. Tabs everywhere. Confusing terminology. Endless comparisons between lace bases, skin bases, densities, and colors.
By Leo 4 days ago in Poets
I Don't Trust Systems Anymore
I don’t trust systems anymore. I used to be afraid to say that out loud. * Because for a long time, everything did seem connected.
By Shannon Hilson4 days ago in Poets
Writer's Block
Writer's block, Oh dear writer's block, Why must you afflict me so? I sit down in my chair, Excited to write my story,
By Rebecca Patton4 days ago in Poets
She Wears Hearts Like Armour
She Wears Hearts Like Armour She wears hearts like armour, pressed into her skin, soft shapes pretending they do not remember pain.
By George’s Girl 2026 4 days ago in Poets
Our Queer Kids
Between locker-slammed prophecies and cafeteria psalms, they provide combinations to ultraviolet funhouses — Quantum superpositions of mascara and masks,
By Paul Aaron Domenick4 days ago in Poets
Quiet Messengers, For Bren
Quiet Messengers, For Bren Bren, I know the silence grows, in ways the outside never shows. A year has passed, yet still it stays,
By George’s Girl 2026 4 days ago in Poets