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  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    I am so sorry. I am…so sorry. Iamsosorry. You are only thirteen, with stars in your big, flawlessly lined azure eyes and a sweet little grin on your soft pink lips. You have curls in your long highlighted blonde hair and not a care in the world from your frilly tank top to your perfectly fitt...
  • Fiction > Thriller/Mystery
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    Monica Stafford was tall, and voluptuous with the kind of soft, upturned, plump mouth men were thick and dim-witted about. Her brown hair was long and straight, her eyes a glassy brown, and today, she was dressed in black—a dress, a coat, and thick black furs to ward off the frosty winter air. S...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Why are you so Cold To me now You used to make everything Make sense And you were warm Sunlight clinging Steadfast Staining my eyelids Lips Skin Hair Golden and beautiful and addictive Making me remember that This More than anything is what I want You I want you But now there is N...
  • Fiction > Thriller/Mystery
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    I didn’t like it much, but after all, we needed this house. Mom would’ve loved it. My mother was a whirlwind. She never did anything without a drama or tears. It was her trademark, and we loved her for it. Her death was no different. The car crash was the start, but not her killer. She ...
  • Fiction > Romance
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    Wistful. It's a pretty word, isn't it? It means to be sad, regretful. Longing for something you lost. I think perhaps there's a happy note to its definition, in remembering all of the joy, but for now all that happy is swept up in something that tastes a lot like warm salt water to ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I am so tired of being "pretty". Like it means something anything when I was a little girl my mom used to stand behind me and smooth my hair and murmur "Such a pretty girl." Being pretty didn't teach me how to sing the only way my words flow smoothly and my thought...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I guess I don’t know why this is part of my personality. I don’t love often but When I Do It is quick And hot A match thrown on gasoline Up in flames in an instant And I either hate it Or live with it Because I have no Control c o n t r o l And So I guess I just have to embrace ...
  • Fiction > Romance
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    I don't know why I did it. I guess I was lonely. And after finding some of his notes in the box under my bed, perhaps I...tricked myself. The once sweet eye words stirring things inside me long since laid to rest. It sent me where I shouldn't have gone. I sent him a message. It was sup...
  • Fiction > Romance
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    It's so hard, spending the summer watching my friends and their dates. It seems like everyone is happy, and in love. I watch her boyfriend kiss her nose affectionately, and even such a simple gesture sends shooting pains through my heart. I don't even know this couple, and yet, their happi...
  • Fiction > Thriller/Mystery
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    I loved her ok? Stop saying that. Stop saying I killed her. I did no such thing, and YOU are a LIAR. Stop it, stop it, I do not want to hurt, not again... ENOUGH! There, that's better. See, everything is so much easier when you are quiet. Listen to me. I can make it all go away, all the pa...
  • Poetry > Song Lyrics
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    Verse One: I don’t know what I’m supposed to be singing, I don’t know what the acceptable answer is, But you’re looking at me with those honest eyes, and I’m Spellbound, hypnotized, You draw me in again I guess you could say, that you’re just everything to me, Because I study you...
  • Fiction > Romance
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    His name was Jeffrey. His skin was the color of toffee, a creamy light brown, even as a little boy. I remember his eyes- those most vividly of all, because they were brown like mine. A dark, nearly opaque melted brown. See, that was the only thing we ever had in common, even though we played togethe...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    The skin of my hands is now like paper. My life is written into it, a delicate calligraphy of soft sagging, swollen knuckles, purple blue veins and folds of white that shift as I move. I still wear the rose gold wedding band, with its tiny sprinkling of diamonds. My weight is less now, every...
  • Fiction > Sci-fi/Fantasy
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    My little sister Abby won't stop squirming. With difficulty, I apply her false eyelashes. They flutter on her eyelids, turning her from an innocent toddler into a young, overly made-up woman. She puckers her mouth for lipstick, and then shakes the Electro Rollers out of her hair. She really hate...

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