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  • Fiction > All Fiction
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    See this slug here on my finger? I will kiss it. His name is French because he said he always wanted to be a french fry. And guess what? I’m not afraid of him or his friend snaily on the bench. A matter of fact, I want to take them home in my blanket but Miss Sara says that will hurt them and momm...
  • Fiction > All Fiction
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    [A young woman stands center stage with spotlight directly on her. She looks very tired-beaten almost. Everything else around her is dark. She looks as if she could have been crying recently] I was a couch for three years, four days,...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I am screaming from beneath all of the roach clips you left between the cushions the broken and stale beer bottles mounted in the bruises and cuts of mothers body I am crying beneath dust stained framed pictures of everything you were and everything you left beneath leaky syringes b...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    Tell me you got me like I got you Even when you think you can’t go through with none of this none of me no more Before We’re in the now I’ll stop explaining how I messed up Look at me without the street Still knockin your heart off beat without the bullet holes to prove it The ...
  • Fiction > Romance
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    After a certain age, they started to get mad at her. I remember when she was younger and we’d play in the grass, she’d bring out pales of sand from the sandbox with barbies heads sticking from the grains. She’d tell me about preschool. I loved her preschool. I’ve never seen big people school...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    My body strains itself when trying to find you It seems that my legs can’t wait to cross at red.It seems that I can’t wait to look beyond you even if you’re never here. Never here waiting for me, never here to stop me. Never here to guide. Where is the sound that has guided the...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    My tonsils have grown sore from the soundless words I have struggled to release from my head, to my mouth, and from my lips into their eyes, through their ears. The disc in my lower back is under pressure It almost feels like it’s deteriorating every time I decide to sit up straight ev...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    The old man came out of his apartment with a lawn chair, a cigar and orange soda. I sat at the bus stop, reading a book, looking up every now and then at my surroundings and at the old man. He came back out of is apartment with a mini tv that had a large antenna sticking from its rear. The old man ...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    She sat at the back of the bus, her head leaned against the window, bright pink eyeshadow against her dark brown skin, hazel colored eyes. An oversized coat slid off of her shoulder not being zipped. From there I saw the dangling jewelry that hung from her naval. I saw how a push up bra boosted her ...

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