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  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    they fought loud loud loud hurting make it stop cover my ears pillow-soft sing about sunshine, my only sunshine you make me happy but i choked on "gray" cry cry its all your fault its all my fault rain thunder shake the walls little sister screaming breaking no no n...
  • Poetry > Haiku
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    I pray for guidance, And a whisper, barely heard "Take care of my son."...
  • Poetry > Haiku
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    Look up, take a breath A whisper of a smile Lingering; cold death...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I am only a child, young and afraid I'll admit I still cry sometimes, And I'm often afraid in the dark. I am only a girl, hurt and betrayed I'll admit I was worried of the future, And if I'd ever find someone to make my world light. I am only a human, needing relief fro...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    Countless pairs of eyes gaze up at him as he is introduced by the judge. He smiles from under his shock of brown hair and sits, acknowledging the polite applause. One leg rests on the stage, beginning to tap out a beat. The other is raised on the rungs of the black stool to support a battered guitar...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    I suck at drawing. Always have, always will. So whenever I get the urge to draw some random kid at the park or a hysterical expression on my chihuahua, I get out a piece of paper and a pen, and use words to draw a picture. I find the words that I think of when I see something, and fit them together ...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    “A great storyteller is as entranced by her story as those who listen.” Dark, stringy hair falls over feminine shoulders. Her voice is deceptively wise for her age, which the gathered villagers know to be a mere 13. Her knees are bent beneath her, her body covered in a thin dress of sackcloth. A...
  • Opinion > Social Issues / Civics
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    “It will get a lot tougher when you get to the real world”. How many times have I heard that- this week? Well, once just now, a couple times yesterday, at least five the day before… you get the point. You know, once, I asked my teacher, “What do you mean- the ‘Real World’?”- I got sent...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    I’m sitting in a reddish chair on wheels. The fabric itches against my folded-up knees. My mom will kill me if she knows I'm sitting like this; my knee-bones are messed up already without any help from my sucky posture. There’s writing on my left hand. It says “ILY like a friend” with b...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    Earphones in and hood up. Jacket zipped; hands in pockets. Eyes down, mouth closed, black clothes and eyeliner screaming “Back Off”. I stare at my black-and-white Converses moving forward, back, forward, back. I see others out of the corners of my eyes, but I don’t greet them, don’t wave a h...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    I have always loathed people who pity themselves. I tell them that if they are in a horrible situation, it is because in some way or another you put yourself there and Lord knows the only one who’s willing to help you up is yourself. If you feel like lying there with fat crocodile tears rolling do...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    If I were to turn my head and look at you across the room, would I see you looking at me? If I were to run over to you when we are told to partner up for a project, would you smile and put your arm over my shoulders, or stare at me like I’m crazy? I used to be able to read your every thought, tell...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    I saw a poster while running an errand for my teacher this morning. She wanted me to get her coffee or something. Who sends a kid to get coffee in the middle of class anyway? Anyway, the poster said “Who are you when no one is watching?” and I guess it kind of hit home, because here I am, 5 hour...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    There is a place, like a dog pound, but for people. I’ve been there. When you run away and you don’t have any I.D., and you won’t tell them where you come from, you go there. They keep you there for 2 months. I f your parents are either to oblivious or don’t care enough to come get you, you ...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    A flower is beautiful, gently swaying in the breeze, her flowers polished, not one leaf out of place. She gracefully sways in tune to the song of summer, the wind, the rain, the sun. A weed grows strong and straight and tall, ignoring the breeze and bowing to no one, nothing. She pays the price for ...

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