Posts published in “Byline: JULIA KLEINBERG”

Do I remember this place? There are holes in my sightWhere I know ghosts still perchSitting on beanbags orcriss-crossed on the floor Still, my fingertips…

    I think I’ve found the best way to spend a Friday evening: sitting cross-legged on the linoleum floors of Angry Mom Records on the Commons,…

    Across the US, public media is under attack. With government funds cut to National Public Radio (NPR), Public Broadcasting Service (PBS), and more, it is…

twist up my words in a tangleand tell me im trying too hardas if it isnt you who curdlesthe words which flow from my wriststhey…

    The pebble went tumbling down the road, first in the way she had intended it to go: straight and narrow, an extension of the line…

i cannot will not put into words the words which pound through my own veins corrupting lungs intoxicating my very muscle fibers while my limbs…

Do not pity meFor my qualitiesFor my quantityI’m not yoursTo Judge Do not change meThe core thingsThat make meI’m not yoursTo Mold If you want…

Content warning: eating disorders, death. I wonder if, and if so, howI stumbled on Demeter’s spiteAnd brought upon myself the curseOf never-ending appetite I picture…

 The island’s Envirodome display hadn’t changed in days. At least, the same things kept popping up all over the massive, spherical screen: old cooking videos…

I stand facing the town hall, my wings quivering slightly, trying to muster the courage to enter the massive building. I hate all government offices.…

The girls in the village know not to seek out the one who lives in the shadows. They don’t know why, only hearing the whispers…

It’s like putty, really – Meticulously sculpted, Resting among collarbones. You can count four chambers, Spot an aorta, Trace each pulsing vein, But it’s just…

It feels good, doesn’t it? When flesh meets flesh A moment of connection, A follow-through, The thud of a sack of bones hitting the floor.…

“Forge,” Rhododendron greeted him coldly. “Deni,” he responded. “Rhododendron,” she corrected him. “I thought I’d have you know, I’m buying the land that your vegetable…

She looks good on paper: Devoid of blemishes, Kind eyes, quiet smile. More of a memory than anything – A boiled down version of herself.…

When they marched the prisoners in, they told them to dance. No one did. They stood still as stone, too weak to move a muscle,…

Content Warning: Gore, death, suicide. He came to us suddenly, in a purple blaze of glory and with promises of salvation. He left just as…