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  • Nonfiction > Academic
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    As I stumble and trip over words, my pen is shaking between my sweaty fingers. Time is ticking and I feel the bomb of the bell about to explode. Letters turning into unrecognizable symbols. My brain searching for more to express, yet my mind is so empty. “Turn in your essays!” He announces. Righ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I just want to hold you close, to breathe the air you breathe. I break these chains of do’s and don’ts, Alas, I know you're all I need. What we feel is true, we have the right to love. if not I swear to thee, this shall be, my last song. I aim they hate the thought, of us holdi...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    He passes by. I watch him stop. He comes so near. I hear his heart He whispers soft. Into my ear. “I want to meet you, You know where my dear.” I know the place. He talks about. I wait no more. My heart shouts. I run and run. Take a deep breath. I grab a hold. And jump the fence...
  • Opinion > Points of View
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    The first thing that comes to my mind when I say “quilt” is a way of showing love or the creator's feelings. To me it's not just a confy blanky but way much more than that. I believe that a quilt is a way of art. A way for someone to express themselves. A quilt is like the identity of ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Did you ever destroy something, but never did you see what it was? Did you ever lie so swiftly, and not even know the reason why? Did you ever see it all,yet when you saw, you saw nothing? Did you ever have enough, yet to the star you wished for something? Did you ever love someone, but no...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    It was you the one I saw, the one who held me. It was you the one who cried the one who payed for me. It was you the one who picked me,the one who saved me. It was you the one I lied and yet you kept me. It was you the one who died, the one that loved me. It was you the one who gave me, the on...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I feel like an immigrant, if you know what I mean. Having no real place to stay, and having no dreams. I move around from place to place, not having a real place to go. I wedge myself in little space, not having a real home. I feel like an immigrant, if you know what I mean. Always having to ...

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