The NY Literary Magazine

A Distinguished Selection of the Finest Modern Literature

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lonely

My December by Katie Lynn

My moving hand writes on and on,
No matter what I say,
I cannot bring him to erase,
That cold December day.

The day was sad and wearisome,
It chilled me to my core,
I’d known that something would go wrong,
Though I could not be sure.

I’d felt so tired and lonely, still,
My heart had ached for him,
Beneath the Christmas trim.

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Empty Vessel by Valormore De Plume

The days are long, hot, and maddening,
the nights cloudy, starless, and sultry.
Sleep withheld behind a heavy dark veil.
Spirit weary in its empty aloneness.

Fleeting visions from happier times,
refuse to project, on the silver screen within.
Joy from dust-covered chapters, dissolves in decay,
upon the sagging shelves of remembrance.

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Falling Down a Tunnel by Camille Sharon

Falling Down a Tunnel

I’m falling down a tunnel
it’s slippery like a slide
it’s way too dark in here
there’s no light from outside.

There’s no way to get out
there’s no way to get back
the walls are wet and cold
I’m frightened of the black.

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Fake by Molly

Fake.
Such a damning adjective.
And until now, I hadn’t realized
just how much it hurts.
What else would you have me do,
sweetheart?

All I’m doing
is trying,
buying time,
and avoiding awkward areas,
distressing situations.

You’ve got me rocking broken in the corner.
And you don’t even know.
Or seem to care.

Sitting on the other side of this fence… Read More

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