She caches her jewelry Cardboard tubes under her mattress Hidden from faces she can’t remember Haunting her with changed bedsheets While disembodied voices perched on telephone wires Check on her She gripes They’re stealing my things At the liar: Voice too old to be her daughter Sunday – no – Wednesday No How can it ...

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 **Content Warning:** Contains allusions to emotional and psychological abuse at the hands of a maternal figure.

My Mother is Purple My mother’s face is as bright as a purple sunset She holds her head high, like a bold Lanai Verbena Her heart is as cheerful as a field of purple pansies My mother is a treasure, like sparkly jewels of amethyst The color purple symbolizes her wisdom and creativity Through my ...

This tripod has been around. The box was dusty, shoved in a corner of the attic. Three legs. At least there used to be. I see the joints where repairs were made. The first leg is wooden but the break is new. The break is clean; smooth to the touch. No splinters prick my fingers. ...

Trigger Warning: The following deals with death and suicide. The snow powdered the ground as Elaine unlocked the front door and pushed it open. The creak of the hinges echoed in the empty home. She closed the white steel door and latched it. When she spun around, the thudding of rocks hitting the door and the ...

Does working full-time equate to me being a bad parent? This question has eaten at me for months. As a mother of three, there is truly nothing more important to be than my children. Yet, I enjoy their time at school and my time at work. I have two friends that recently gave birth to ...

Mom kept pacing the living room, back and forth, not saying a word. It would have been easier if she just had just come out and told us how disappointed she was, announced our punishments, and sent us to our rooms. She wanted us to apologize, to explain. Finally, I could not stand the silence ...

Mila carried a baby in her arms. The street on which she limped down shrouded in the pitch of night. A cold breeze blew in and attacked her face, fingered her hair. She held the baby tighter to her chest. Cars still being eaten by flames from the inside out cast a weak orange glow ...

Josephine Blaise picks up a black eyeliner from her makeup counter. I need to make these eyebrows darker. And now, for the eyes. She thought while moving the brush down to her lashes. I need smokier gray eyeshadow. “Looking good,” Josephine says leaning back to study both eyes. Blood red lipstick will look great. Josephine scratches ...

Emily’s already wide almond eyes doubled in size with shock and panic as she stood in front of me. “I think my water just broke” she spoke softly in disbelief. Her silky mahogany strands fell onto her face as she looked down to the puddle that had formed at her feet. This was it, the ...