Photo by Sheena
Photo by Sheena

April 20th

Editor’s Letter:

For the second instalment of Late Night Poetry Club, a light will shine on things we’ve all tried to bury away. These little sores hide in our minds, our hearts, under our beds, and sometimes on our skin. The trick is, to not be afraid or ashamed of these hidden parts. No one knows your reasoning for making the decision to lock things up, but that’s what it is ultimately: your decision. Never be afraid to let your freak flag fly, but also don’t feel bad for rolling it up and packing it in a box that sits in your attic for years. You’re you; cobwebs, scars, and all. You don’t throw something away because it’s dusty. Don’t throw yourself away either, dolls. Your hearts are honeycomb and you are the honey. And remember, honey lasts forever.

Love, Love, Love,



 I tried keeping diaries when I was thirteen

But the pens never worked


When I put them to the mass produced paper

There weren’t any good hiding places in my room anyways.


I tried telling secrets to friends late at night

But they favored films about rock stars

Who overdosed on their own egos

And you can’t hide a person away either.


I tried hiding meaning in the words

That I spoke everyday

But subtleties are hard to grasp

Especially when you’re busy trying to survive adolescence


I tried to mold poems into my secrets

And put my heart into words

But I still selfishly wanted people to see them

And promise me that they had secrets too


Anyway maybe it’s better to fail

At keeping things hidden away.

 – Remy Anne


they look at me like I’m a

big strong lady who can

stand her ground and

hold her own and her

knees don’t buckle and her

fists stay risen but I feel like a

tiny wilting flower in a 

cracked pot at an empty

house that someone forgot

to take when they moved

far, far away

– Luna Slater


She spits on the people she loves and she bleeds

in bathtubs and rose gardens. 

She curses at the wind and only cries 

in the dark and I’m afraid that she’s

going to kill me. 

I’m afraid that I won’t stop her.

I’m afraid she already has.

– Chey Addison


i could build a building

with all of my regrets,

if they were toothpicks.

i could braid the hair of

every last, lost opportunity

and let it down the castle wall,

but nothing would climb up.

– Sharon B.


O’Keefe between my legs was a tulip-shaped flesh petal and I mean it was nice when things

weren’t so wilted but I guess I’m a woman then I don’t know?

Petals fall

Catch them with your tongue

Mold them back in place with the tips of blue shaking fingers

Its cold in the winter

Its cold steel on my back

I think those are garden clippers or maybe our old pair of nail scissors?

I like to bleed like the tree likes to leak sap

But in one case it hurts and in one case it’s sweet not salty

Forget-me-not pupils and

There are roses blooming in my palms but it’s the blood welling from under the skin

Kiss it away

Keep these flowery nightmares at bay

– Tara Abrahams


the black leather cuff

studded with plastic disguised as


hangs around my stony wrist

like a hospital bracelet i designed myself


i snap it as tight as it can go

chocking my arm

because if it is not tight

my secret message will be exposed


and that message is for me, only

for only i can understand the red ink

which spills out words

that i no longer feel

– Becky Dayan


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April 20, 2013


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