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Kiernan Norman Dec 2024
LOST:
A dream about a staircase with no top step.
Last seen circling my brain at 3:14 a.m.,
with no place to land.
Reward: One uninterrupted night of sleep.
Contact: riddlesnotlullabies@askytoclimb.com

FREE TO GOOD HOME:
A laugh that doesn’t fit anymore—
sharp, too loud,
like it belongs to someone braver.
Please take it before it cuts me deeper.
Contact: clankingtin@softsolace.com

MISSING CONNECTION:
You—on the other side of the street,
waving like it was still 2015.
Me—too slow to cross,
too afraid to shout.
If spotted, please circle back.
Contact: my number’s the same, but maybe you deleted it.

FOUND:
A treasure map to nowhere, folded into my coat lining.
No roads, just dotted lines,
and an X I’m scared to dig up.
No need to claim; it’s already mine.
Contact: (don’t.)

MISSING CONNECTION:
You—wearing a yellow raincoat,
laughing like the storm was yours to own.
Me—stuck in a doorway,
too afraid to step into puddles.
If you see this, let me borrow your courage.
Contact: meetme@bridgeofmysong.com

FOR SALE OR TRADE:
A reflection that doesn’t belong to me.
It moves slower, smiles at things
I haven’t thought of yet.
Will trade for a mug that doesn’t drip.
Contact: smokingmirrors@unstablefaces.org

LOST:
The way my name sounded when you said it,
soft and certain,
like it was the only taste there was.
Reward: The strength to stop listening for it.
Contact: sacredsyllables@windwhispered.com

FOR SALE:
One fractured moment in time.
It split clean down the middle—
half yours, half mine—
and hums like static when held.
Warning: Reassembly not guaranteed.
Contact: timesabitch@xrayfractures.com

LOST:
The ability to distinguish between a memory and a dream.
Last felt in a room full of books and musty yellow light.
Reward: A map with all dead ends marked in gold.
Contact: dreamfugue@unreliable.org

MISSING CONNECTION:
You—crossing the street as if it didn’t exist,
leaving footprints in the air.
Me—watching from behind a pane of glass that wasn’t real,
wishing I could step through.
If you see this, tell me if the other side is softer.
Contact: glasswalker@phantoms.com

FREE TO GOOD HOME:
A mirror that only reflects your mistakes.
It’s cracked but still works.
Perfect for someone braver than me.
Contact: onthewall@mercilessmirror.com

FREE TO GOOD HOME:
A scream swallowed too quickly,
leaving the weight of what it couldn’t say.
It hums at night, sharp enough to cut silence,
soft enough to still feel human.
Contact: wailingweight@humsandhaunts.com

FOUND:
A version of me I didn’t know still existed.
She’s smaller, softer,
but hums with the ache of wanting something bigger.
No one’s claimed her,
but she feels too familiar to let go.
Contact: echolalia@layersdeep.com

FOR SALE:
A jar of lightning,
trapped mid-flash, flickering faintly.
Warning: It won’t light your way, but it might set you on fire.
Contact: sparksfly@volatilenight.org

MISSING CONNECTION:
You—standing in a crowd of people who looked like you.
Me—shouting a name I wasn’t sure was yours.
If you see this, tell me which one of us got it wrong.
Contact: facelessblameless@nowronganswers.com

FREE TO GOOD HOME:
A shadow that moves faster than I do.
It drags me to places I swore I wouldn’t revisit.
It’s loyal,
but it doesn’t listen.
Contact: runawaytwin@goingnowhere.org

MISSING CONNECTION:
You—just out of reach,
your voice fading like a star going nova.
Me—chasing echoes through rooms I don’t recognize.
If you see this, tell me how it ends.
Contact: graspinglight@foreverandnever.com

WANTED:
A gas station map that folds wrong.
Not one that shows the way,
but one that erases it completely,
leaving only the thrill of getting lost.
Payment: Breadcrumbs I don’t plan to follow.
Contact: wanderorlust@uncharted.com

MISSING CONNECTION:
You—at a bus stop,
Me—watching you disappear before I could prove myself.
If you’re still waiting,
I swear I’ll catch the next bus.
Reward: a Metrocard, but refilling it costs more than it’s worth.
Contact: NYMTAhopeful@thatlakeinQueens.org

FOUND:
A photograph that doesn’t make sense—
faces blurred, the room stitched from dreams:
a log cabin leaning into splinters,
a Vietnamese superstore where shampoo and morning glory
share aisles with áo dài and gnocchi,
my first-grade classroom—pine-needle air,
metal chairs sparking against old carpet.
The photo shifts,
but the context stays the same.
Contact: dreamsindanangand1996@framegames.org

FREE TO GOOD HOME:
A moment of clarity that burns too bright to keep.
It sees everything,
even what you wish it wouldn’t.
Take it before it blinds me.
Contact: keepithidden@callouscandor.com

FOR SALE OR TRADE:
A clock with teeth.
It eats seconds like they’re starving it,
but spits them out just wrong enough to notice.
Will trade for a moment that doesn’t bite back.
Contact: devouredtime@bitingsands.com

WANTED:
Someone to tell me if it’s too late.
If the road I’ve walked is the only one I get,
or if there’s still time to take a left,
a right,
or turn around entirely.
No qualifications necessary—just say something.
Reward: My charge to pay attention; ***** coins and all.
Find Me: I'll be wearing a yellow rain coat.
Contact: universeswap@prophecy.org
ross Dec 2024
i don’t always
think about you
with soft skin
wrapped in satin sheets
nor do i always
think about you
with wide eyes
and a forgiving laugh
but i do always
think about you.
i always think about you.
sometimes i wish i could stop.
sometimes i wish i’d never stop.
sometimes i don’t know
what it is i am even thinking of
but there you are.
between each thought
between each flash
an infinite number of neuron's
firing through my brain
an endless electrical dance
and still
there you remain.
inthewater Dec 2024
on occasion, when i sleep

i feel a warmth, profound and deep

the sole person that i've loved

fits my body like a glove

i close my eyes, and in his arms

i sleep soundly, free from harm

but then dawn breaks our slumber date

and i begin to question fate

against my will i leave your touch

for fate, she has you in her clutch
Jay Dec 2024
It’s a quiet night, and I lie alone in my bed. The silence wraps around me like a suffocating shroud, no soft whispers to break it, no gentle words to ease the stillness. Beside me, my phone rests motionless, its screen dark, your name absent, leaving the night untouched by your laughter. The other side of the bed feels empty and cold, unmarked by your presence, no warmth, no outline, no trace of you. The air feels dense, pressing down on my chest as though carrying the weight of your absence. Each passing second grows louder, the ticking of time a relentless reminder of the quiet taking over. Above, the stars blink lazily, their distant light shimmering as if in mockery. They shine, indifferent to the longing coursing through me, the ache left by the void where you should be. I close my eyes and try to summon your face, your smile beside mine, but the image drifts like a ghost, fading with every breath. The quiet deepens, filling me with a hollowness only you could chase away. The hours stretch, cruel and unyielding, each moment a thief robbing me of rest. Though I know the morning will eventually come, I wish, more than anything, that you were here beside me tonight.
amelie Dec 2024
sometimes i miss you
and then i can't think why
i remember the way we'd always fight
and how much i'd always cry

i remind myself of your arrogance
and how stupid i'd feel around you
i think of your stubbornness
and how it'd put me in a bad mood

your weird ******* fashion
and no common sense
it all left me
so so tense

but of course i can't bring myself to think of all the good

like how you'd smile when i'd talk
and remember all my small things
when you'd always bring me food
and hold my hand when we'd walk

i don't dare think of your sweet letters
or the loving look you reserved for me
your soft lips
or your hugs that'd immediately make me feel better

maybe i can think of some reasons to miss you
but i don't want to think about that
cause you'd say you'd always love me
but i guess that's not true
Oka Dec 2024
How was your room?
A pillow thrown to the door
Whisps of Tea brushing my nose
A promise to someday visit the shore
Late nights watching the movies you chose
Ping-Pong matches, no one keeping score
Elevator gossip about men you found gross

How was your room?
Bone white walls and metal desks
Naked beds and missing pillows
Paper on the door, boxes and checks
flipped the switch to a jarring yellow
Eyes looked down, scratches to the neck
A wide drawn smile never felt so hollow
My neighbors are leaving back home
amelie Nov 2024
they ask me what makes me think of you
and i can't really say because
rain makes me miss you
and books do too
i miss you when i'm writing
and when i'm crying
benson boone
dark blue
the shining moon
all make me think of you
reading gives me that feeling
and so does that sweater
so i guess there's no healing
guess you're stuck with me forever
amelie Nov 2024
i don't think you'll ever leave me
you'll always be there
like a ghost in my life
or shampoo in my hair

i feel your cold presence
when i step in that room
i hear your eerie voice
when i smell that perfume

my friends write it off
as me going crazy
but they don't hear your voice ring,
calling me baby

i thought ghosts were a con
still have your ring tired to my finger
can't stop my life but can't move on
not now, not when you still linger
amelie Nov 2024
ever since the last goodbye
life has been less enjoyable

i don't laugh on rollercoasters
i don't sing in the shower
i don't smile at sunsets
i don't write more than an hour

i'm not interested in new movies
i'm not invested in books
i'm not so passionate about music
i'm not caring of my looks

i won't leave my bed
i won't eat three meals
i won't change my clothes
i won't take my pills

i can't dance with aubrey
i can't joke with my dad
i can't play with my nephew
i can't do anything and not be sad

ever since the last goodbye
all i can say
is that the sun dimmed without the moon
what a sad day
amelie Nov 2024
it's a new summer but i'm still stuck on the last
what i would or wouldn't do just to go back

i was a different kind of happy
one that could only be found with you
i don't mean to sound sappy
but do you miss it too?

i got so used to my moon
it became something i couldn't sleep without
now i'm stuck here in the same room
all alone in this house

sometimes i walk in
and i still feel it
us always talkin'
time won't ever heal it

can't spray that perfume
or play that song
smells so much like you
it's been too long
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