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- Nonfiction > All Nonfiction
An old man sits before me, haggard, but he is only twenty-three years old. How could this be? His face is taught and not a wrinkle creases his skin, his muscles protrude from his ancient sweater, and his eyes are an ocean of life. His voice is a deep rumble from the depths of his chest, a volcano er... - Fiction > Realistic FictionHe changed his profile picture. He switched it to one with his head thrown back in laughter; his mouth is wide open, his eyes are dancing, and I can see the little cross chain he wears around his neck clutched in between his fingers. His shirt says Obey on it in bold red letters. I can’t help ...
- Nonfiction > Personal ExperienceSam left in the shrinking days of August, escaping to college on the East Coast to pursue the culinary arts, a subject that nearly all of the kids in our petty high school mocked him for. A fair amount of people still make fun of him for chasing his dreams in the culinary world, even though he dropp...
- Fiction > RomanceKip holds my head gently against his bare chest and lets me listen to his quickly beating heart. I breathe slowly as his long piano fingers rake through my mess of hair and reach toward my stripped back. I press myself firmly onto him, and he tips my head back with his thumb as he softly kisses my h...
- Poetry > All PoetryWe were everything to everyone, And we were everything to us. Fresh air to our fresh lips. No pain, no jealousy, no fuss. I saw beautiful black flakes then, And I see disillusioning petals now. My vision is blurred with nothing. My heart is gone; tell me how. You are nothing to me now A...
- Fiction > All FictionWhen Kipling was eighteen years old, she went off with her boyfriend and they got married. Everything was unexpected, because Kipling was supposed to be perfect. Everyone but she, herself, thought she was perfect and that she was going to go out into the world to do amazing things. She was going to ...
- Fiction > All FictionThe remaining number of people at Max’s party was exactly 14 when Turner walked in the front door with a cigarette dangling from his lips. His blonde hair was greasy and unclean, sticking out in all directions, and he had his long skinny arms shoved deep down into the pockets of his worn jeans. Ev...
- Poetry > Free VerseI’m out of my mind with envy. It’s the sort of envy that makes you want to act on it, do something physical, do something horrible. I have hatred. I have hatred that seeps down into my thick bones and makes me cry out of hostility. I am exceedingly angry. I want to rip a door from its hinges...
- Fiction > All FictionHaven Mercury piles her hair on top of her head in a messy bun from where she sits in the back corner of class. The bun doesn't look good on her, and she missed a long strand of hair by the nape of her neck. As soon as the bun settles on the top of her head, she angrily takes it down. She&...
- Poetry > Free Versei am spinning in a chair, with jet black hair, but my hair is blonde. why is my hair black? the chair gives way from underneath my body, and a boy catches me. he looks familiar. i knew the boy a long time ago. why did he dye my hair black? he laughs, and i remember his laugh. his laugh ma...
- Nonfiction > Personal ExperienceMy mind has been racing with thoughts of dread and utter heartbreak since I opened my eyes this morning. I lay there for a long moment, gripping my quilt to my chin and just imagining myself never getting up. What would happen? Perhaps the world would stop just for me. I met Mason six months back...
- Fiction > Realistic FictionAjax Stephens has eyes the color of the Caribbean Sea in the brightest daylight, but from far away they are the purest shade of gray. Only when you stand on tiptoe next to his six foot six frame and stare straight into his eyes can you identify that beautiful tone of blue. “Your eyes are gray f...
- Nonfiction > Personal ExperienceIt’s a new day today. The August sun is rising into the palm of the sky, and my mother’s flowers sitting on our old wooden deck bask in the light. The Hibiscus petals unfurl and hug the day, and it seems that only I know that soon, it will be September, and they will be gone. They will be gone u...
- Poetry > Free VerseOrange is the color of the licking flames. Orange is the color of my bed sheets. My bed sheets burn me every night when I close my eyes. My eyes are the world. Big, And round, And orange. The world is orange. The world is my eyes wrapped in my bed sheets, burning like a meteor. It will dest...
- Poetry > Free VerseRain falls upon me like angry bullets. They hurt, but never kill, which is a shame. Right now, I don't want to suffer these hits. I'd rather die and have God my heart claim. I am just a useless girl in this place, Not here for a certain reason at all, Sent here to live life, but it&#...
- Poetry > Free VerseFeigning absence, Falling back onto my intellect. Why arise? Why love what is not mine? Perhaps I could possess it But, I cannot undertake it. Wrapped in my arms, you weep. Tears cascade to the earth. I do not care. You are not mine. Although you are weeping in the crevices of my arms, Y...
- Poetry > Free VerseI hate the ocean. However, August loves it. He loves the way the salt sticks to him until he washes it all off in the shower. He loves the aqua color of the Caribbean, and how he can see the cream colored fish swim in between his open legs. He loves the burn in his eyes when he accidentally open...
- Fiction > Realistic FictionJack and I met at his 21st birthday bash, on the roof of the hotel that his party was held. I was 15, and I had no business being at the party, but I attended anyways because Jack was my sister’s friend, and I promised her I would behave. Jack was drunk off of Vodka Slushes, and his eyes were rim...
- Fiction > Realistic FictionLiving a lie is hard. You become numb to the real world around you, and that’s when you realize that you yourself are a lie. You’re a walking sin, and the real you is a stranger. The tears you cry are just leaks from the sockets in your face that are called eyes, and even the brunette roots em...
- Fiction > RomanceI can hear Candid’s laugh from down the hallway, and it makes me want to laugh just hearing it. Julia Marie clings to his arm, her head thrown back in laughter and her black hair falling over her shoulders like a rippling river. I look at her smile, and I see the twinkle in Candid’s blue eyes, a...
