Poetry Archives - Survivor Lit

just like wet blood

Poetry Ami Sanghvi 0

Artwork and poetry by Ami J. Sanghvi

drowning I am in your bed my mind is underwater I am almost sleeping you are bathing me with your tongue rendering me all the senses gently shriveling when you hover I do not feel you pressing down, I feel only a spilling I must remember this is someone's...

Light from the shadows

Poetry Crystal Whiteaker 0

Before you, I was just finally learning what it meant to truly love me. It felt open and free.

After sucker punch

Poetry Venus Davis 0

Some of you will never know what it’s like to crawl on your hands and knees to the nearest pleasant memory. Holding in your tears, any vulnerability is a weakness. You touch gold, think you’ve found safety. Only to find out, you...

#MeToo

Poetry Julia Park Tracey 0

what I mean is, I said no to my ex for the first time. I said no. I said no. I said no fucking way you stupid piece of shit. I said no nicely. I meant it. I said no....

A Local Man Celebrates International Women’s Day with a Series of Sexual Assaults

Poetry Carson Wolfe 0

Seven women have been sexually assaulted in five days on the canal path that runs by my house. I hear this news and I want to dress Femme. Prowl in stilettos through his hunting ground like I’m asking for...

horses

Poetry Olivia 0

remember telling me about the horses the wild horses? I didn’t believe wild horses still roamed Georgia but you assured me showed me photographs of the horses in your fields last weekend remember confessing your infatuation you had to have me I...

If the Girl Never Learns poems by Sue William Silverman

If the girl thinks love is here every day!, an excerpt from ‘If the...

Poetry Sue William Silverman 0

She'd translate her body back into its own language, if only she could.

Sometimes I am just like him

Poetry Venus Davis 0

When I eat a pomegranate, I cut the red ball in half. I don’t feel sorry about puncturing it right to the core. I don’t feel sorry about puncturing it right to the core. Her seeds are...

Black and white image of woman whose face cannot be seen, sipping from a mug in a kitchen; her hand is veiny and she seems tense, for Survivor Lit, a literary magazine for sexual assault survivors.

A woman’s place

Poetry Julia Park Tracey 0

Into the mouths of babes, the bottomless craw of a needy child; they cluster at my hip, wanting more. Here, I pay and pay for sins I did not commit. Not in this house, this generation. But fat must be rendered. The...