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  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    That song. You know, the one that’s been stuck in your head all day. Your favorite lines drawing figure eights through your brain, tattooed onto your frontal lobe, no possible way to etch the beat out. That song. I feel it, right now, running through my veins. Only this time, I want to remember...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Why did you rust shut the hinges on your eyes and let other people’s tendencies towards hating you change the way you loved yourself? I have an idea that you want more than you ask for and that’s a little hard to deal with sometimes. Like when you lock yourself in your room and spi...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I have this feeling that the inhibition of my happiness is due in large part to you and your reckless v-neck sweaters and the way you look at the way I look at you. I hope you never sleep under my eyelids or creep up behind my wishes. I need you to catch grip of a gust of air that can...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    They call it love when he hits her and she goes along with it, like I went along the road this afternoon, humming a Weezer song and eating Smarties out of my back pocket. And they call it love when a baby has a father who forgets he has a baby, like how I forgot that it was Saturday...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    My old self has drifted off to sea. I barely remember my gills, the salty water coursing through my veins. There was a time when the water was home, but I've forgotten how to swim. Maybe I can learn again. Maybe I can't. I feel myself breaching for air, the swelling of my lu...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I am confused to the edge of breaking, like the edge of sand against an ocean tide, as to why no one sees what I see. They never notice their precious gossip or their best friend or their childhood doll in poetry, like I do. They don't try. They don't try. They never get h...
  • Fiction > Thriller/Mystery
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    My eyes are sagging with exhaustion, overcome with the nausea of images tattooed onto the back of my eye sockets, but whatever energy my eyes have left is focused on that little hole in the wall. It’s too small for an actual escape. But just big enough for hope. My thoughts are screaming at me,...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    This is the sound of lips sipping sweet tea Leaving a smudge of lipstick and poison. Her tongue is already swelling as she wipes the afternoon sweat from her makeup. Her mask is broken, but everyone is too hypnotized by her story to notice. The lies are smeared and running down her face in the ...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    "She was running blindly through the dark hallways, searching for an exit when…" A loud pang of thunder rings through the air, igniting the real world until I realize that I’m not in the abandoned house on Main. But, to be honest, the ancient city bus I am on isn’t exactly stun...

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