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  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Your face a million scattered fragments A mirror shard in your hand Your blood, chameleon-like Turning black from a dripping, coarse red. Tears turn your cheeks To the brine of an ocean Dried up; and endless expanse of waste Where there used to be Restless, escalating, lapping waves. I ...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    I lean over the railing that separates me from the gushing, frothing water below. Drawing my jacket closer and hugging myself, I breathe out white in the clear still winter air. A dancing flickering reflection of my black-and-white swathed form peers back. A black covered figure appears behind me...
  • Reviews > Book Reviews
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    Divergence. Difference. Uprising. The first book in the series, Divergent is a breath of fresh air after the somewhat repetitive nature of fantasy novels these days. Based on a dystopian society where people are separated into factions not on the base of caste or religion, but on the basis of t...
  • Fiction > Romance
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    It was going to be another day for you. You were walking down the street, on your way home from school, another Tuesday in your little hometown. You were thinking about him as usual. You looked up at the sky, saw the dark clouds, decided that it would rain soon without any particular inflection, a...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Open doors and closed windows sunshine, rain and starlight this world is yet mine. Living, breathing, existing smiling, laughing, shedding my part of tears it is so exhilarating to know That I'm here without you. Alive, so alive I look into a mirror and for the first time feel proud...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    On a typically beautiful summer day I wave my magic wand summon all clouds to hide every patch of blue. I call to the winds that carry the smell to me the heaven that clouds my senses plays hide and seek with me do you smell it? Does it play havoc with your heartbeat, like the scent of a ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Smiling photographs of a face I've seen eclipsed with tears Scattered around on memories I can't bring myself to sort classify, remember in order in a thread no, all mixed up with the smell of coffee and the smell of cold with the smell of rain and the smell of you covering me, m...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    Fresh out of school is an interesting place to be, pardon the understatement. Not particularly enjoyable at times, very trying and certainly confusing, if not completely baffling. One of the most ‘interesting’ bits, I would say, would be my hunt for a job. Living in a zone where working und...
  • Poetry > Limerick
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    My tears are falling down even surprising me; I didn't see them coming so sudden and so free. They speak of times they speak of a place A scar in my heart that your fingers trace A dream that flew off a high terrace Before getting lost in outer space. They wonder what will repl...
  • Reviews > Music Reviews
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    And Swift has spoken again. With Speak Now, her latest album, Taylor Swift has struck all the right chords in the hearts of her listeners. This album has not only kept her fan base satisfied, but also attracted people who had earlier deemed her music to be 'too young' for their taste. ...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    We all have 'em, don't we? I don't know. There are just so many of them everywhere, discarded on the pavement along with broken hearts, suppressed in minds under the weight of ego, drifting in and out of dreams, and soon forgotten. Leaking out of eyes full of tears, seen, unseen, ig...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Dry dusty pavements on either side of the road that's stretching out, infinite. I've come to terms with it I've accepted the sun beating down on me. But then...clouds. Creeping over the edge of the horizon surely; slowly, but surely making their way over the sky. I hardly dar...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    I've never cried myself to sleep. I can't tell you the number of times my friends have come up to me, with red-rimmed eyes that spoke of sleepless nights, and told me that they'd cried themselves to sleep before telling me what was bothering them. If I could empathise, I would. If ...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    I'm trapped in here. Sweat pours down her back, adding 'icky' to everything else that's tossing, turning, screaming and sobbing inside her now. She runs from window to blackened window, with paper peeling off the edges, with cracks in the ancient glass, yet unbreakable. Making...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    I feel like paper. Paper, stretched tight, yet not supposed to tear. I feel like a thin sheet of plastic. Holding together two ends of a chasm that is widening. I feel like I could melt away, fall apart into microscopic pieces, self-combust, get swallowed up by the ground or in some other w...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Stepping forward, stepping backward. Tantalising, intimidating. So very, very tempting. Disrupting any possible intervention of wisdom, of caution. Of sanity. An illusion so obvious I wonder if it isn't real; for illusions don't usually come with warning labels. Yet, I'm afr...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    You see me now, you smile tentatively. I smile back, all cheery warmth all sunshine bright. You approach me; You start the conversation that leads to so many more - it's all your fault. You took the twenty-three steps that separated you from impending doom. You gave me your secrets ...
  • Poetry > Limerick
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    Lying cold on the floor among the fallen leaves her heart pounding a rhythm, trying to break free shallow breathing, fluttering eyelids her broken body lying in pieces in bits Nobody who cares enough to help walks by Her hopes crumble down as her strength flickers and dies Dainty deliberate fe...
  • Poetry > Limerick
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    Dreams I run away from Dreams I no longer follow Dreams that take me back to the past Dreams, empty, hollow. Trysts with fantasy Deceiving reality waiting for me to believe before melting into the unseen. I flee from dreams I keep them locked up inside I flee from dreams for my dreams...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    Tears. They spill hot and wet down my face. That's all I can give myself as comfort. Hah. Comfort. I've forgotten what that feels like. To be comfortable. To not constantly imagine what you look like on the outside, to be sure that you're not frowning too much, to avoid the trouble ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I am cowering in a dark corner My back is hunched, an obvious sign of slavery, of submittance. Of defeat. My throbbing face, arms, legs My growling stomach my aching head all scream for shreds of mercy Mercy yet to be seen. I sweep up the shards of the crystal vase that you just hurled at ...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    I realised, a few days ago, that I complain a lot. If I said that I was the only one and everyone else around me is as content as a honeybee in early winter, I would be lying. Very conspicuously, at that. What is it about everything that makes us want to complain so much about the things we have, ...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    Fear. It's a strange thing, if you think about it. It doesn't actually ever take much to overcome it. We just tell ourselves that it does, that it's too hard, that we'll never be able to do it. I sit here at the edge of the cliff, overlooking the endless chasm below. I can'...
  • Fiction > Romance
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    I'm hanging out of my window. Okay, that's not true. But I am leaning out much too far. Oh well. I'm watching. And waiting. It's only been ten minutes, I think nervously. But there is something creeping up my stomach and my spine. Something cold and unforgiving. Paranoia, I t...
  • Opinion > Points of View
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    I couldn't think of any other way to put it. Have you ever noticed how much of how we react to things, our moods, our feelings have to do with other people or our surroundings? It's like we're completely dependent on the outside for what goes on inside. You could be happy one second,...

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