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  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I like to write between the green lines On yellow legal pads because they force My sprawling letters to line up In an orderly fashion and Make some sense already. The only thing left is to organize My ideas. Cats....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    A doomed soul, ripped screaming From the tender, intoxicating caress of life. Brittle fingers decaying; There are no flowers to be picked here. Fire and brimstone, fire and brimstone – My ashes turn to ice....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    how quaint of you to think that all of this longing-wanting-wishing-hoping, that tears at the soft underside of my skin with claws of desperation and need, fighting to get out, is just a ‘problem’ to be ‘fixed’...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    My poetry is too runny – like uncooked egg whites. No focus. No plan. No color. What am I doing with my life? I want concrete ideas – like big slabs of cement towering over your head and thick as a steak. No ambiguous edges. No slippery interpretation. No muddled liquid. Onl...
  • Poetry > Song Lyrics
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    For you, I’ll smooth out my rough edges and anomalies until I am a glowing orb for you to cup in your hands and admire. I will be an ocean at its deepest ebb at night when the sea is so still you could kiss it. I will be a pencil unwritten, unbitten, unsharpened. I think what...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Poetry is for feelings, And when I think about feelings, I think about You. I don’t know anything about You, Except that one day, We will fall madly in love And probably get married And then live happily ever after. You have been promised to me By the fairy tales And I will not accept A...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I tend to muddle through things And “agitate” the water, Dredging up the past and other forgotten things With the silt. I promise I’m trying; You never make it seem like this is enough. But I don’t know what else to do. And I hate change, At the same time that I love Self-improvem...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    As I spit from my lungs the bittersweet words of others – Drowning, drowning – I recombine them into ladders That I use to draw me up Out of this dark and wet depression. Words shimmer at the edges of my vision And then I reach out with the tips of my fingers And pluck them into concr...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    To take pain and mold it into something beautiful and worthwhile on the blank page so that then it isn’t taking up space inside of my head and choking me and roiling in my stomach and distracting me from all the work I have yet to do....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    My nerves are fraying Like ancient guitar strings, And it’s you on my mind. Always you and The way you peel your oranges, So carefully, And pick off the white bits (Calcium makes strong bones) Before eating the flesh. Where do the cast-off ones go When no one wants them? (I am stil...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    Tell me you love me; Tell me you care. I know that someday, You won’t be there....
  • Poetry > Haiku
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    Long ago, we were made from Stardust, and again to Stars we return....
  • Nonfiction > Memoir
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    I didn’t set out to be a runner. In fact, I was fourteen before anything significant happened in my running career. Previously, I had participated recreationally in middle school running sports, and before that, I had earned the distinction of first female finisher of the mile in my elementary...
  • Nonfiction > Memoir
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    There is tremendous anonymity in taking the metro. Hordes of nameless people get on and off, mind the gap, breathe the same recycled air, and brush rogue body parts. You are one unit among many, and not a single person knows your name. I never realized the freedom of metro travel until I visite...
  • Opinion > Points of View
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    By virtue of being born upon this world and not another, we are consigned to spend our days working for our bread. In honest toil we earn our livelihood, but at the same time, we must aspire to something greater to make life worthwhile. We must constantly thirst for a more enlightened state of being...
  • Fiction > All Fiction
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    We all get tired of the daily grind, and many of us complain about the exorbitant stress levels that we experience daily. However, one man who arguably deals with the most daunting time-crunches in the world is none other than Santa Claus. Mr. Claus was good enough to take time out of his busy sched...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    I carry my sneakers. Their color is nearly un-faded, purple-mountains’-majesty blue with orange accents to make them pop against the winter-dead ground as I run. The flashes of orange come in blips like Morse Code – one, two, one, two – as I lift my knees and pass another huffer-puffer on ...
  • Fiction > All Fiction
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    The poet moved to a hilltop to breathe in pure poetry and he steeped himself in words and didn’t eat and didn’t sleep and only drank two sips of water a day and in his delirium, he wrote the most beautiful works of poetry about a world that only existed in his mind, and even though no one else c...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Coat of moonshine, mane of quicksilver – it is you I dream about in those restless summer nights when there is no one to share my bed and all the windows in the world can’t catch enough breezes to keep my sweat from sticking. I think of you, and you are silk, falling from the rain...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    A pen/ink A camera/film A taxi/passenger A fish/water A car/engine A falling tree/anyone to hear Me/you...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I sent you some of the poetry I’ve been reading And you wrote me back saying that You can just imagine me Drinking in those words at late hours And then sitting there and overthinking them. I told you that was a pretty accurate image. You know me so well....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    The one thing I really wanted From this relationship was To be able to wear your sweatshirts, No questions asked. I never told you that. You never gave me your sweatshirt....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    The wanting is like a faucet, And it's dripping blood Down the back of your throat, And every time a drop hits the Spot where your heart used to be, You gasp, But you don't know how to breathe anymore....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    When we were together, you said forever, and I didn’t want you to use that word, so I said forever is a long time, without promising you the same. You broke the promise I never accepted, and I’m left with a hole in my chest – that I never asked for....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    my poems never come out well, like a stain that has been through the laundry – stubborn, but surely not beautiful. melodramatic – my mother says. perhaps I should try writing from different perspectives. maybe I just need some sleep....

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