Author: thebottomshelfreview
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The Roses You Give Me Never Die by Brianna Castle
my heart is an unruly songbird it whistles a song only you managed to become accustomed toits melody is now sewn into your spirit i am a set of nesting dollsand you have peeled back all my layers we are stuck together like pollen on a beeyou coat all my wounds with honey you bathe…
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Gigantic by Carla Bender
The rays of the morning sunshine pierced through the window and landed on the floor with a silent gong that had more effect than a grandfather clock striking time at the start of a new day. She had a date, but it wasn’t with just anybody. In fact, it was a date she held faithfully…
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Body and Heart by Faith Crawford
I think my body feels heavy from the weight of the hands that have touched me. It has taken me too long to learn the difference between holding body and heart; I’m still trying to scrub your fingerprints from my skin. My heart longs to be lifted. Too many hands have held my skin too…
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When the Moon Calls by Kendi Long
With every hour that slips through my fingers, a part of me withers away. I can feel my soul fleeing, the magic of the moon depleting, creating an empty void that I am being dragged into. I pressed my chin against the pale skin of my chest, hiding my face in the shimmering ivory hair…
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Pink Juice Kind of Day by Hailey Bucha
As I take another stepMy stride gets a bit slower.My breaths get a bit lower. All I ever hear them ramble,“I don’t know how you do it”I’m to the point I question myself.How do I walk into another room?one that’s filled with so much gloom. As I walk away with another lifeless body in hand,one…
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The Life of a Background Goddess by Hannah Middaugh
I sighed for the hundredth time and crossed my arms. I slumped back in my chair in the corner of the room, and continued to listen to my uncles Zeus, God of Sky and Thunder, Poseidon, God of the Sea, Earthquakes and Horses, and Hades, God of the Underworld, my father, argue. Other gods tried…
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Oenophiles by Michael Cornelius
Her lips are a Lambrusco—sweet, tart, and cheap.Mine, a vihno verde—a little crisp, a little green, a little chapped. We may be lesser wines,but oh, how we effervesce.
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Mrs. Fothergill’s Tips for Storing New Potatoes, circa 1874 by Michael Cornelius
A clamp is a must (or so Mrs. Fothergill says).Choose level ground with nominal exposure.Dig a small pit (if you have no gardener, you may need to do this yourself)four feet in diameter.Lay down straw, and then—this next bit is essential—fluff it sedulously (or so Mrs. Fothergill insists).Place the new potatoes on top of the…
The Bottom Shelf Review 