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The
Premier
online
literary
journal
for
Expressive
Writing
The
Premier
online
literary
journal
for
Expressive
Writing
JOURNAL OF
EXPRESSIVE WRITING
THEMES by PROMPT
We publish writing using a series of prompts as an entry point for exploring emotions, personal histories, shared truths, joy, grief, shame, and those themes that matter most to us in our hearts.
Explore the themes by prompt below:
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3 days ago
Microaggressions
By Bruce Morton — It begins with one small rub—nettle, thorn, word. Sensitive, we succumb to slightest of slights heard, conjure defenses
Nov 24
How They Came
By Thomas Elson — Their first day in group. Most will come bargaining, pleading, “Make me better, but let me keep doing what I’ve been doing
Nov 19
Horizon
By Anthony John Ward — I stand captivated upon the shore of night and day, looking out to sea. The light receding towards darkness, drawn in
Nov 5
This night will punish them all
By Vandana Kumar — The music playing in a neighbor's home isn't happy. You wonder what it really is that makes you think it has that weepy
Oct 19
Portal
By Hannah Gamble — We didn’t know that only two of us would reach adulthood. We didn’t know that even then, as chlorine stung our eyes and
Sep 24
IF ONLY THERE WERE NO PREDATORS
By John Grey — "That's nature, his father would say, as he put the unfired rifle back in its case. "Fox, coyote, raccoon, they all gotta
Aug 25
Her Name Was Sarah
By Beth Davies — I tried to write about these events thirty-three years ago, but the words were elusive back then. The hurt too deep, the
Jul 14
An Embarrassment of Wild Prairie Roses
By Shelly Norris — Gangly, disheveled thickets sprout beneath her east windows, harden and bloom cold springs, thrive arid summers, shed
Apr 24
Fast walking with a friend through the parking lot of Kfar Nachman Cemetery in Raanana, Israel
By Jennifer Lang — Groves of citrus trees face the already-full-for-an-early-weekday-morning car park. Sorrow has no schedule. Last week,
Mar 16
A Hoarder’s Cries for Help — in Haiku
By Christopher Lancette — Mountains of junk mail. Free stuff jumps on top the pile. Jail cell walls close in. Metal dumpster clangs.
Jan 8
When a Bruise Isn’t Just a Bruise
By Ann Kendall — The bruises started when she was three months old — changing her baby feet from sweet, delicious, squishy mounds of pink to
Dec 15, 2023
POISON OF HATE
By Priya Chouhan — White foam on the outer edges of lips, stains of foul red at the center, disgusted words forming the saliva. The tongue
Jul 9, 2023
Five-minute do-overs
By Noreene Storrie — In contrast to my father who used to say it could have been worse, I know it could have been better, and this would
Apr 27, 2023
The Night Two Lovers Leapt
By Frogg Corpse — In the last warmth of autumns hold. Gripping damp November cold. Protection from this fear while stripped from comfort
Mar 24, 2023
If only I knew
By Pragya Bajpai — If only I knew, my body is a home; it's always my choice to leave or carry toxicity inside. The layers of unwanted words,
Feb 5, 2023
THE NEVERBORNS
By Jen OConnor — Should we beg for their forgiveness? For taking away their Right to Life? Harsh laws will punish us now for that. But the
Jan 26, 2023
Good Girl, Olive
By Vibha Akkaraju — “Good girl,” I coo to Olive in that tone that Maya, my first born, finds unbearably saccharine. But it's not saccharine
Dec 30, 2022
Northern Cruise
By Jeremiah K Durick — There must be something here worth the effort. The time spent. The foghorn goes off every two minutes reminding us
Dec 20, 2022
Definition of Romantic Love
By Dorothy Dorcine — The intimacy of hearing your voice in the dim lighting of my bedroom. My arms tangled around my pillowcase—I took my
Dec 14, 2022
Deep in the Unmowed Paddock
Kyla St Jaye — My body feels like an episode of hoarders. I’m always hungry. Stacked with debris and loading. Each scrap, bottle top and
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