Posted by PrachyaReview | Aug 31, 2019 | Poetry |
Both the Dream and Nightmare My uncle’s suicide opened my eyes which made me realize I did not really want to die, I just wanted the pain inside carved out; did not want to feel such a tempest of rage and sadness— I feel...
Read MorePosted by PrachyaReview | Aug 31, 2019 | Poetry |
Under the Influence of Depression: Group Meetings We signed a confidentiality agreement, so, if you think you know us you really don’t! Regulating, medicating, and suffocating You said, “I’m depressed.” How...
Read MorePosted by PrachyaReview | Aug 31, 2019 | Poetry |
Pumpkin Carving My lover looks expectant, I think he should throw out the knife stowed in the wastebasket, broken over pumpkin carving. I wonder if pulling orange seeds is like pulling intestines from...
Read MorePosted by PrachyaReview | Aug 31, 2019 | Poetry |
A Way of Life To move about the kitchen while he sat for days looking at the floor. Both of them somber— he with the pale look in dark thoughts, she with resignation and a bit of here we go again. No one spoke the word,...
Read MorePosted by PrachyaReview | Aug 31, 2019 | Current Issue, Poetry |
LOST THINGS The book goes into the refrigerator My slippers are under my clothes I look for something – Now, what is it I am looking for I find a piece of paper, I look at it intently It is important, I think, must...
Read More
Recent Comments