Month: August 2016

Short Story: Home

Home ©  Dora Acosta Ashley realized a long time ago that she didn’t actually have a say as to where they moved. Her mom liked her to believe she did. Their conversations about moving were always the same. “So why are we moving this time?” asked Ashley, with […]

I Refuse

I refuse to try to understand you Accept that a reality might exist without you.  I refuse to cave in to my emotions,  And imagine an us without you or I.  A world filled with senseless decoupage.  I shudder at the thought of our possible demise.  Play the […]

Neighborhood Dreams

Neighborhood dreams.   Concrete jungle. My heart beats Matches the rhythm of my feet Beats of the concrete floor Echoes off these painted walls Each step louder than the last Living, but barely alive Metal bars, Barricaded windows, But I’m so much more. Military mind I carry the […]

What Teachers Owe

A 14 year old boy sits at the front of his fifth grade class. This is his third try at this particular grade and second time with this particular teacher. He has grown resentful and cold. Being the oldest and tallest kid in the class has taken a […]

Spoken Word: Victim

I refuse to be the victim of a broken home Despite what daddy may have done to me. Despite the sleepless nights spent crying and the broken dreams that are now dying. Despite the generated hate and constant abuse of my trust and love,   I refuse to […]

An Oath to pizza

Turns out craft pizza was what I’ve been missing in my life all along. Delicious, thin crust, round goodness, made exactly how I like it. I mean when I first stepped into this brick and mortar answer to all of life’s most difficult questions, I was a little […]

Poetry: Perchance

Perchance we meet and change ourselves. Allow simple conversations and kind remarks to send us on a journey that would redefine friendship and kindle hope. Perchance we spoke our truths to each other. Free of judgment and free of hate. I am me, you are you And together […]

Six Sentence Story: Control

She tried to remain as still as possible, thinking that perhaps stillness might also help to quiet her mind. They were racing again, her thoughts, and she searched frantically for control. It had been three weeks since her miscarriage, three weeks since she’s slept, and three weeks since […]