Author Archives: Melanie Laura


I said “please just take my flesh” because the memory is not enough I have written poem after poem about closed hands and open heart wide mouth and skin wet crush through to the bones (she said wind would carry) … Continue reading

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Rip Out (Then Touch)

I want to write the beautiful poems but all I can think about is the wild way you loved me from the gut the violent way you cut me with your teeth the words that got caught in forget the … Continue reading

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Chasing Tails

{Beyond The Honeymoon} My childhood self was a hopeless romantic, as well as a Selective Mute. I was very shy and very sensitive. I think having the experience of being shut down when you try to speak, is one of … Continue reading

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Heaven Held

In her arms, words were quiet no noise or fighting proof the atmosphere was precious it built bridges across breasts and held space for pain from right to left But she didn’t suffer the last tear breathed heavy sometimes stairs … Continue reading

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Giving and Fitting

My aunt said my Uncle Bobby appeared and told her he was ok. She didn’t know if it was a dream or not but he came to her after he died, and only then was she able to move on … Continue reading

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The Color of Rage

When we attach colors to emotions, we usually associate anger with red and calmness with blue. But in my household growing up, anger was black. As an adult, I have written a lot about the confusion of being received as … Continue reading

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I. Breath full and far (but never felt) your imaginary arms enclosed my faux body body talked but you didn’t listen (I am here) trapped inside the kiss that never happened I happen to want you but you don’t notice … Continue reading

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Why Darkness Attracts Light

I enjoy live poetry the way most people enjoy live music. I would imagine my receipt of it is similar to the way religious people experience a good sermon. It is deeply connective for me. Spiritual. When a poem moves … Continue reading

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Sorry I returned Your Greeting (Re: Street Harassment)

If this had been a poem it would’ve said: Feels like Pulling my hair out Screaming and nothing coming out Being surrounded by people, while feeling truly alone in the claustrophobia of my own thoughts… I wanted to write the … Continue reading

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