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  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    On a chill spring morning I taste coffee stirred by wind, wind that tugs at my blouse asking to play, sends rivers of air careening over my skin, sends limping, shedding dog into a fury with envelopes of scent. Wind touches my coffee and stirs it again with bits of chocolate fur that I st...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Snow falls to the ground in lonely clumps March into April into May with the East Coast reaching longingly into white crystal layers of frost upon frost upon seed. April showers should sprout flowers, but April snow lends only cold fronts to kill my baby violets. I clutch them— britt...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    A spindly silver thread caught in the air, caught in a net of straw. A spindle—a tickle of wire in palm. Wire is silk. Silk is thread is soft is spindly silver. Silver is flame. Flame like a silver thread. A speck on my wish-cream cheek, a stretch in my brain. They told me that...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I clean my house my house I clean my mouth with soapy bubbles forming on my cheek. Alliteration leaves my house my pen— my pen, it leaves my mouth my mouth again...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    Oh good, I thought I'd find you here. Staring at a blank page again? Well, I'm just here to make sure you haven't lost your touch. Where did I hear something like that? Well, you must have known there were rumors, it was paper itself that started them. You aren't really thinking of quitt...
  • Poetry > Haiku
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    I would really hate to have to get to know you in a perfect world....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    When I start spinning, the world goes quiet, like it drops away or gets pushed to the edge of a perimeter beyond which is only silence. Something blue flares out below my arms but I close my eyes and I close my head and for once I can't hear anything. I like that: the silence. ...
  • Nonfiction > Memoir
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    What if I've always been so strange because I was born in the wrong skin? I'm not talking gender identity wrong skin, I mean literal wrong skin. What if I was never supposed to be Emily Rose? What if I was never even supposed to be human? I imagine the feeling I used to get standing on ...
  • Hot Topics > Bullying
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    I see you not see me—these things don't sell— that look of consternation on your face. Your body judged, as mine is judged as well. You'd think we'd stand as one, but I can tell that no, we are alone. You leave in haste. I see you not see me—these things don't sell. ...
  • Hot Topics > Letters to the Editor
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    I was browsing your website when my eyes drifted to the ad at the top of the screen. Instead of the usual salamanders and vitamin water, something else caught my eye: “Warning: This game is too hot to handle. Male gamers only.” This lovely piece of literature was accompanied by a barely d...
  • Hot Topics > Letters to the Editor
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    Dear TeenInk, I was browsing your website when my eyes drifted to the ad at top of the screen. Instead of the usual salamanders and vitamin water, something else caught my eye. Warning: This game is too hot to handle. Male gamers only. This lovely piece of literature was accompanied by...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Start in the bloody waters of a sunset sea, the smell of salt and battle waves attempting to pull you under. Let them. Sink below the rabid orange foam, it is here that you will glimpse the last streaks of gold from a dying sun. The next step of your journey occurs below the horizon,...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    “Do I have roots?” Sings the snowflake as she tumbles down past midnight. “Do I have roots?” She sings, as she slips through an emerald sky. “Do I have roots?” Sings the snowflake who thinks she is a flower. “Do I have roots?” Oh no, my dear. Oh no, but you...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I ran from birth, feet kicking, face scrunched and smeared with blood, they had to cut me out. I ran from fireworks and my friend's hyper husky and learning to ride my bike. I ran from shadows and monsters and flushing the toilet at night, because I was convinced it would eat me. I ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    What makes a good poem? Is it the way it swings from left to right, metaphor to silky metaphor steady behind the brash outcry of battle-ready similes? Or perhaps the alternating lines of slant rhyme and precisely broken rhythms, built on alliteration, allusion, melody. A good poem must pers...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    When did she get so tall? Her curls still red, but ironed straight. Straight as her confident shoulders. They shift so slightly as she walks. She walks with great big grown up steps. Grown up steps? Who taught this little girl to walk so big? Surely not me, with my frightened trot and...
  • Poetry > Haiku
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    Moonlight ricochets off wind burnt hair. She smiles, star bits in her eyes....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Like hell I'll die, this girl don't go down easy. Like hell I'll live, this girl she falls so hard. With paradoxes singing their sweet poison I hope to gods these hurts they do not scar....
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    1. Turn off the lights and snuggle under the covers. 2. Roll around in the blankets until you are sufficiently hot. 3. Even though you've sweated through your t-shirt, try to tough it out because you know if you get up you'll never get back to sleep again. 4. Get up and turn the fan on....
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    I am not a loud person. In fact, there are those who believe that I am not capable of making any noise at all. I certainly haven't demonstrated any gaudy displays of shouting around them, although some yelling may have been called for a few times. Like when my shoes got folded in a giant mat. T...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Rain laced with lightning Leaps between trees, Twirling to the ground Where it dances beside puddles And overflowing streams. Thunder keeps a beat For the cheerful dancers, Rain drops breaking into couples For a lively waltz, Their misty skirts swish over the Slick forest floor, Crystal ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Don't you miss the days When there was nothing but the weather To whine about, Nothing but the weather To cry about, Nothing but the weather Worth dying about? Not me, For with a million more things To sigh about Come so many more To smile about....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    In the silence between raindrops I can let my mind wander. It dreams of ultraviolet love Waiting to escape the clouds And skewer me in my openness....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Most flowers wait Only for the melodic call of the sun To unveil their gem-like blossoms. Truly they are gorgeous As they throw their iridescent hues To the sparkling aqua sky, But often those sweetest of color hymns Are lost amongst the crying winds of day While soft Nymphaea dearest Wai...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I could write you a thousand lovely things On the soft whiteness in front of me. Promises of eternity Abound in empty paper. They stare with bright black eyes, Heads peaking around The page's edge, Watching me As I Dream....

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