Christine Sempetrean Smith is a writer living in southwest Missouri with her husband and three children. When she's not putting miles on her minivan driving her kids to activities, you can find her exploring the region, discovering people and places that make life interesting. She shares her travel experiences on JoplinMOLife, and muses her way through this amusing life on ChristineSempetrean (also on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram).
Sometimes I don’t want to deal with my life. It hurts too much. He doesn’t see me. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to speak, see, feel, love, hate, be, eat, see, feel, touch or taste the way my feelings are. I am shutting down from you, and I’m inside a cocoon. I don’t want…
Sarah Fader is the CEO and Founder of Stigma Fighters, a non-profit
organization that encourages individuals with mental illness to share
their personal stories. She has been featured in The NY Times, The
Washington Post, The Atlantic, Quartz, Psychology Today, The
Huffington Post, HuffPost Live, and Good Day New York.
Sarah is a native New Yorker who enjoys naps, talking to strangers,
and caring for her two small humans and two average-sized cats. Like
six million other Americans, Sarah lives with panic disorder. Through
Stigma Fighters, Sarah hopes to change the world, one mental health
stigma at a time.
I wish I was the one you search for so you would stop getting colder as you walk away so you say But I am not the woman of your dreams I am someone very special just not the special one. You build songs for those you’ve loved and forever they remain enshrined in your metaphors and verse. You’ll…
Dori Owen blogs on ArizonaGirlDiary.tumblr.com, is a columnist on FeminineCollective.com, a contributor/editor for The Lithium Chronicles, created the Facebook page Diary of an Arizona Girl, is an author on AskABipolar, was featured in the books FeminineCollective RAW&UNFILTERED VOL I and StigmaFighters Vol II, and is a zealous tweeter as @doriowen. She's a former LA wild child who settled into grownup life as a project manager, collecting an MBA and a few husbands along the way. Dori spent her adult years in Southern California, with a brief stay in Reno, and has now returned to where she ran away from in Arizona. She is a shown artist, writer, and her favorite pastime is upcycling old furniture she finds from thrift stores. She lives with her beloved rescued terrier, Olivia Twist, and the cat who came to visit but stayed. The love of her life is her grown son in Portland, Oregon who very much resents being introduced after her pets. But she she does love him the most.
Sometimes I want to shave every hair attached to my scalp because at night when my head hits the pillow I smell his finger tips. Countless nights claws just running through it like a 10k marathon, it never ends. It’s like each strand is a different memory, a different feeling they just fall in my face constantly, rubbing my…
give me the gun, my love this is no dance, no punchline blue smoke coiling like hollow wire above the spruce crowns, glittered with the last cold of the cruelest month the tired ladder propped beside the gutter clotted scarlet the knifesong of the wind beyond the grasp of the fire a slap, a fist to the throat or…
Rachael Convery is a Classicist, Maker, and Scholar;
follower of Sappho and Anne Carson;
devotee of Beauty and the wildancient gods;
seeker of the sacred and profane;
lighter of candles upon the altars of the lost;
daughter of savagedivine wolves;
keeper of forgotten histories;
lover of small, grand, and delicate things...
i remember you. when first we met i, barely more than a child you, already touched by war. two different worlds converging. you overcame my shyness with your admiration for my writing skills. we talked and exchanged numbers. though we lived in the same town, rarely met face-to-face hours would pass on the telephone. i remember you you said…
Wendy is a writer and editor who holds multiple degrees from several universities, including MA and MFA in Creative Writing from Wilkes University. She's the author of SERPENT ON A CROSS, a Jewish Medieval Fantasy, and a poet. She has served as a copy editor and panel reader for Hippocampus Magazine, as a reader for the James Jones First Novel Fellowship, and as an editor and proofreader for Booktrope and its Gravity Imprint.
Wendy's most recent venture is her freelance editing business, Grammar Goddess Editing. In her day job, Wendy is a crime analyst for a sheriff's office. Her hobbies include writing, reading,and traveling. She lives in South Florida with her teenage son.
You are so crazy I can’t take it anymore I will not have this kind of drama in my life You are strange and unpredictable Am I CRAZY? What makes you think that? Is it because I grind my teeth every night, chasing demons in my dreams? Is it because I go from UP to down in a split…
Julie Anderson is the Creator and Publisher of Feminine Collective. Julie was inspired to create this safe place for women to share their secrets, desires, triumphs and pain as the antithesis of what mainstream media offers women today. In her column Pursuit of Perfection, she explores the importance of rectifying the balance of inner and outer beauty through essays, poems and articles on self-esteem, shame, family, and self- acceptance.
My friend is like a hummingbird, flapping her wings eighty times per second. Her voice goes up an octave when she talks about him and her words spill out of her like flower petals on parade. The symptoms of first love, or lust, or wanting, or whatever it is. She tugs on my wrist. Jenny, you should meet him,…
I graduated magna cum laude from the University of Puget Sound with a Bachelor of Arts in English. Previously, I have been featured in literary outlets such as Crosscurrents, Wordgathering, and Creative Colloquy. Works published include, “Wish Fulfillment,” “Missing Andrew,” and “Quiet Light.” In my spare time, I read anything I can get my hands on and practice martial arts.
I gave you my heart, ripped it from my chest where it lay comfortably nestled between lily white rib bones and family dinners in front of the television. You picked it up daintily between your fingers as if it weren’t alive, as if it weren’t throbbing madly, as if it weren’t spilling blood all down your white shirt. You…
Lela Casey grew up on magic and get-rich-schemes. She learned from a very early age that nothing is as it seems, and behind every facade lies a portal to places unknown. When not seeking out rabbit holes or chasing after her three little imps, she spends her time writing about deep thoughts and big adventures. You can find her writing on kveller.com, themid.com, brainchildmag.com, and jkidphilly.com.