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  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Consider the price of ensuing: Will pockets be sunken flat? Knuckled battered black? Is it worthwhile what is awhile worthy When trust tumbles afar as if knocked down a canyon? When emotions leap like waves of light? And stability distances the length of a satellite? What potential does heedi...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    The sky’s crescent, luminous and wedged high above, guided Nate as he trudged through town. The Coffee Shop Junction’s doors clacked shut. The grungy owner was locking up for the night, much to Nate’s displeasure. The boy dropped his gaze and hastened along to preclude the man from voicing any...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Coffee shop junction Elliptic functions Frantic free falling Sippin’ citric-kicked tea Tumbling, trolling for the key Living out balance Ever since gravity Jump the deck Sensing fear Blood breaking through cold hands I’ll take a step back, But please wait for me. Ticking time...
  • Fiction > Scripts & Plays
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    CHARACTERS: SOPHIE MS. WRENLEY FELIX (SOPHIE, a small girl aged nine, sits at a desk writing a letter.) SOPHIE: (speaking out loud as she writes) Dear therapy clinic, (aside) Note to self: find out the name of the clinic. (writing) My name is Sophie Peterson, and I’m nine years old...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    They ask if I’m okay, and I tell them “Just fine,” not that I’m struggling and straining, ‘Cause that’s not what I’m supposed to say. And when someone blesses me for sneezing, I’m rude if I don’t thank them. If I sit silently still, then, my God, aren’t I an odd thing? ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    The specks engulf through my vision in a world where every direction brings decision. Each step drops a bit lower. The cold wind whirls, pushing me back. “When will it cease?” I say. The wind whispers, “Fight or stray.” But that’s something to be taught in order to know. People te...
  • Fiction > Sci-fi/Fantasy
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    My stylist holds up the fabric, shaking her head. “Pathetic,” she says. It was supposed to be a dress made with pearls sown along some of the lining. The design showed it fitted around the torso, scrunched and creased in a pattern below the waist. The sleeves were to be puffed, and the pl...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Misinterpretation can leave some pretty shaken, Begging for the fog to clear before the shedding of a tear. The assumptions by a glance, the blames without assurance And slashing out viciously when they fail to agree, The truth blocked by fire when rage causes to inquire Of one's broke...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    A place familiar, yet not a home Even though residing, Where people live discreetly Doing what they do, Even if they hate it And even if they beg for more. A family all disoriented and unseeing. And I trying to scramble out, Out of the darkness, the closure, Away from shutting minds And yi...
  • Fiction > Sci-fi/Fantasy
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    Dr. Williams, Pay attention. Listen to me. If you refuse to acknowledge this, you are denying you have a heart. Do you have a heart, Dr. Williams? I often wonder this. Here, you let people live without eyes, without tongues or feet. Is it possible you have a hollow spot behind your sternum? Mo...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Call me a writer, One arranging words, Working verbs, Visualizing scenes. Call me this, Not a poet, Please. Not in offence Of those talented artists How I write is different Simply in a shifted sense, Composing the same phrase With another approach Although, I ponder, Wouldn’t a writ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    When we write, We write of things of beauty Of things of awe A bird of freedom A flower of hope Things we can express ourselves with That we see every day, hear about, And most of the times Have heard them being compared already But we still use them Still write of them A bird of freedom...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I stand at the battle grounds Seventy men shot down One my brother Three my friend Their bodies spilling color Vivid against dirt land, the bland grounds I leave the bodies to rot And load my weapon Eighteen minutes, says the general Eighteen minutes until scrambling Out of the trenches ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    My mother used to tell me to be careful what I wish for. Only until I became a mermaid did I believe her. When we would go to the beach, I would dive into the murky blue, the squishy sand beneath my feet, the waves stirring in a certain beat. The sun would blaze down While the fi...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    The shutter their eyes as they pass, their polished shoes stepping past. They carry briefcases, their over-stuffed purses, their coffee, their meals which are gulped down without a prayer. When they pass, they pretend I am nothing but part of the bench I lay upon. They ignore the fact my hands are e...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    “Honey? Please come in with us.” I cross my arms and look away. My eyes fill with water. “No.” She lifts her hand and strokes my hair. I pull away, and her sigh staggers. Don’t look in her eyes. Don’t look at her. I think this over and over again. I stare at the wall, at a picture ...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    Jay knew he shouldn’t have been there with them. Jay was a good kid. He saved his allowance to buy a poor family toys for Christmas. The Gang, a title the others liked to use for themselves, was known for shoveling the toys out of the donation box. The Gang consisted of three boys – Leroy, Fred,...
  • Fiction > Historical Fiction
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    Patrick Rever worked in the factory. He walked six miles prior to the sun slinking into view and stayed until it left. He had a satchel, which each night his wife put in a potato, an apple, two eggs, and water for the following day. Rever’s wake-up alarm wasn’t a rooster. Patrick Rever could loo...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    It’s true How little things Really matter Before taking medicine, I would have to read a test question, which I knew was easy, about seven times over to understand it Before taking medicine, Everything the teacher would say Would not be heard by me Except for, “Is that clear?” ...
  • Fiction > Sci-fi/Fantasy
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    Humans. Even the word makes me tremble. They have bare, oily skin and giant, watching eyes. They’re deformed and move upright in an anomalous fashion. It’s their booming voices and strong presence which has us spiders slinking into corners and, if necessary, biting. When I was a hatchling, ...

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