Each morning that I wake up, I’m reminded of how cruel my reality has become because you are no longer in it. My dreams ...

The fatigue of habituation plagues my heart. I’m cursed to see the same faces on every block and then go home to dream of ...

Why do these walls torment me, their screams vicious and never-ending, So shrill in my ears, consuming my vision until my eyes become blurry? ...

I do not think my brain was made to hold these swirling thoughts that dare conflict so strong. I withstand their onslaught until I ...

My thumb digs into the grooved metal of the striker wheel, pressing and flicking to ignite my lighter. It sputters and clicks, trying to ...

At the end of each day, I used to stumble into bed, and stare at my phone screen until my eyes blurred. I tossed ...

“How long has this sat here?” Valerie asked, blowing dust off a red and green box. “Probably years. My parents weren’t big on decorating,” ...

There’s a crack in the floor that’s hardly even noticeable, but I can’t tell- Is it getting bigger, or is it shrinking? What if ...

Looking in the mirror, what do I see? Am I a product of joy or misery? I am unrecognizable in my age, like a ...

The dying sun and crisp air cast an orange glow upon the trees whose limbs turn bare, as they come apart with the fall ...