A cosmic radiance


I shall take my pain and turn it

into a beauty so blinding

that it will dim the stars,

the sun will fall,

and the heavens will weep.

© Nicole Lyons

The sweet spot

My life can be boiled down to nothing more than a series of tracks hauling freight trains filled with intensity.



My life can be boiled down

to nothing more

than a series of tracks

hauling freight trains

filled with intensity.

And me:

The ultimate train wreck,

just itching to play chicken.



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I see how your smile never quite

reaches the sadness

that swims in your eyes.

And I can’t help but wonder

at the stunning beauty

in your sorrow

and the untold strength

of your spirit,

and how it is always

the most precious souls

who cloak their melancholy in courage.

This war

I fight a war within myself

that I am certain will leave me

with casualties.

I struggle to hold on

to what little I have left

before it all turns to haze

and vanishes forever.

But I also start fires

to burn memories

and I fan the flames, urging them

on and into no more.

This war will leave me

with casualties,

but maybe I can lay them

to rest and find peace

after a lifetime without.


Winds of Change





I have nurtured

the seeds

of resistance

planted in my bones

long ago.

Roots grown

swift and mighty,

a solid foundation

of iron

stands me firm

and holds me true.


of resilience

climb the length

of my spine-straight.


down arms

of hope and

hands of peace,

raised in wait,

to embrace

a revolution.


rides the back

of howling winds,

and if seeds

of hatred

are all you have


the tempest will

eat you alive.



Only The Stars Had A Straight Face – Stephanie Bennett-Henry


Sometimes it’s funny when someone is drunk, we all laugh like it’s not the alcohol, and we are still laughing the next day at that silly, funny, clown, as we sweep the mess that never even made us chuckle. No. It made us cry. But today, everything will be better, because laughing it off made it go away, right? Never. But it helped us cope. So laughter became the best medicine and we made jokes like crack addicts getting a fix… it’s all better now. Then the sun comes up and we are drenched in a hangover of exactly how laughter tastes. It’s bitter. I don’t want it. I never want it. It’s not a choice, so I clean my plate without gagging and that’s funny too. We laugh like saying grace before dinner. It’s not funny, but our skin is programmed to say otherwise. Amen. We had bunk beds filled with giggles and I see the moon right outside the window of my top bunk tears. I started begging the moon for wishes it never had and the stars laughed while we always slept never tucked in, and we didn’t want to see the sun but we didn’t look away from it. It was the night anyway where monsters played hide and seek with us and we were the ones counting with our eyes shut tight, hoping we didn’t find them, but it didn’t matter. Whether we were the hiders or the seekers, we knew we would lose. We lost. There was a day when we stopped laughing. None of it was funny anymore. Even the stars had a straight face, the clouds hid the sun’s shine, and the moon looked the other way. The moon was like the face of everyone I ever knew. Looking the other way in the direction of pretending. Taught me how to pretend too. So I pretend to smile, pretend to trust, pretend to live. And we all know I died in those bunk beds when the moon looked me straight in the face and said, “Fuck You” and we laughed. It never was a dream, it was hell disguised as a nightmare and I’m not laughing anymore.

© Stephanie Bennett-Henry


Stephanie is a Southern Girl through and through. Sweet as candy, sharp as a blade, and talented beyond measure, Stephanie’s poetry is raw, unfiltered, and unforgettable. You can find her exquisite words at Stephanie Bennet-Henry , on Instagram and on her website.