Strip the skin off my body and hold me tight. Take this ugly brown shell, burn scar, thrown to sea. Let waves batter me against rocks, shark teeth ravage carcass, oil spill on pale water. Strip the skin off my body and hold me tight. Take this ugly brown shell, burn...
Lisa, the most beautiful cousin, the 80s flip of dark blonde hair, shiny cotton candy lip gloss, tight striped sweater, squeezing 7-year-old me in that Polaroid, my wild curly ‘fro against her cheek, she had an even, radiant smile, while I was missing four teeth. With...
i wear my trauma like a badge over my heart an enamel pin that tells the world i have seen hell, and i am still here i wear my trauma like a badge over my heart an enamel pin that tells the world i have seen hell, and i am still here i have survived sometimes i am...
we sit the two of us you face the tv we sit the two of us you face the tv i take turns glancing at your face as i raise my bowl to drink the soup there are war torn cries from the screen not loud enough to disturb the silence between us the actress on that screen more...
your lips they twist perceptions in an instant. your lips they twist perceptions in an instant. my ink stained fingertips try to make sense of it and all the things you say, all the things you do you seem to forget. when i was younger you loved me because i had the...
I was ten when I first felt brave enough to say, "sometimes, I just feel like I want to go home... but I don't know where home is" I was ten when I first felt brave enough to say, "sometimes, I just feel like I want to go home . . . but I don't know where home is"...
On Nov. 8th just before midnight, I began to disappear. Because if he were that person, I myself would be the first to say "I made a mistake, I made a terrible mistake." —Eric...
Our 2017 Poetry Contest Honourable Mention. mother's tongue They often ask: Will you teach your children your language? As if it is a weapon I carry. Of course I will, ensure they are more fluent than I was. Hope that they can read and write it too....
She built a tower for herself. What a waste of sand, they all thought, and to not lower her hair down—who waits, in a desert, to be overcome She built a tower for herself. What a waste of sand, they all thought, and to not lower her hair down—who waits, in a desert,...
—not part of me. She makes up games like Quidditch and plays with me. Body throws me down —not part of me. She makes up games like Quidditch and plays with me. Body throws me down on the playground and laughs with them who laugh at me. My body is a gaping hole that...
ROOM 47.4 FULL CIRCLE
Step back with Room into the past, to parents, to childhood homes, and to people once known and loved; dig into themes of grief and healing; and ultimately explore what it means to come full circle in literature.
Seeking members who love literature, events, merchandise, and supporting marginalized creators.
Full Circle | 47.4
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Bodies | 47.3
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Seedpod | 47.2
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Utopia | 47.1
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Sponsor a Contributor
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Sponsor a Writer
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Fever Dream | 46.4
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Fever Dream Tote Bag — Limited Edition
Ghosts | 46.3
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