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  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    After a great deal of climbing I reached the top and paused to admire things from that new place. The sky was a trio of hues (halcyon dragging to teal fading to slate) and the sun was a great big bright thing (inflamed, illuminated). Inch by inch, I lifted my arms, as if to embrace the g...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    It’s cold as hell and the sun is a white hole in the bleached blue of the sky. There are these kids all over the place, little creatures with bright eyes and tangled hair, yelling to each other as they dodge the arc of wildly punted soccer balls. Most of them aren't wearing coats. I feel l...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I will never lose my insatiable lust for writing Each time I pick up a pencil or contemplate the barren blankness of a new page I am imbued with something terrifying, glorious and huge Ah, there it is, I think to myself with a little smile, that wild thing living inside of ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    isn’t it crazy that right now we’re hurtling through space at reckless speeds, orbiting a ball of fire and radiance while stars rush by in inconsequential streaks and nebulae ripple here and there in sparkling shades of mauve and gold? isn’t it crazy that right now winds from the ot...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    It’s no surprise that one of my favorite books is “Where the Wild Things Are.” I’m a wild thing myself, a whirl of clumsy limbs and quiet incandescence. The world unnerves me, but I make up for outward hesitance with inward joy, the kind that resonates in every bone, organ, and cell of my bo...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    Music has always had a profound effect on me. When I was just shy of six years old, I habitually woke before my parents and snuck barefoot through the house to our bulky, black CD player. I would rifle through the stacks of CD’s, searching feverishly for one in particular until I found it—a co...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    The phalanges are connected to the metacarpals, the metacarpals are connected to the ulna, the ulna is connected to the humerus and the heart is connected to pen and paper in a way that defies all logic...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    You live in a universe apart from everyone else. You’re like a young butterfly, iridescent and airborne and headed for the stratosphere. Your thoughts are not cast away by a mind that has been trained to reject every spark of whimsy and inspiration. You cherish them, use them to write your bl...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    You once told me that you were never anything close to normal I laughed and looked up at the emerging stars murmuring something about you and how you were fine just as you were something about normal being vastly overrated what I didn’t tell you was that you seemed more nor...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Outside my window the charcoal sky stretches over a world pulsing with celebration and saccharine nostalgia I sit on the edge of my bed and listen as the hands of the clock tick down to midnight thinking of all the bright and bitter moments of the past twelve months, exhaling a symphony ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    She laid alone on her bed with only a sheet covering her leaden limbs Face half pressed to the pillow, she struggled to taste oxygen [breathe in, breathe out] lost in a vortex of bewilderment and misery, trying for a moment to forget that everything had collapsed Her skin itched and crawle...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Sooner or later I'll have to face the fact that I'm not really good at anything Yes, I dabble in writing [the art of fashioning buzzing thoughts into something vaguely meaningful] and oh, I can make the piano shout truths to the world by hammering its keys and feeling every palpitating sliv...
  • Fiction > Fan Fiction
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    Every day, Sherlock watched him. Every day he studied the fine golden hairs that captured the classroom’s fluorescent light so brilliantly. Every day he swept his eyes down the length of smooth, well muscled neck and along the boy’s broad shoulders, imagining laying a palm on the sun tanned ex...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    She was playing her violin in the center of an unused classroom, making use of a ray of brilliant sunlight that streamed down around her and made the wood of her Stradivarius gleam. Every stroke of the bow over the strings plunged her deeper into her own world, setting her mind afire, filling her c...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Revolving, drifting, quaking careening through stars and time in a ceaseless orbit Dangerous, magnificent, unruly with sprawling wilderness and violent collisions of storm and sea Beautiful, colossal, fleeting An orb of biological phenomena edging ever closer to extinction, dying at the ha...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Sometimes I swear the stars and my grief are somehow connected, because each time I ache I am drawn to gaze at them and feel them with wonder....
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    There was something so strange about her. Something mystifying and enchanting and utterly feral, something that I have tried to identify for decades. I will always be haunted with memories of her and her brilliantly peculiar way of being. She remains the greatest mystery of my life, an impenet...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Burning, tingling emotion shoots down my spine radiating through the tips of my chipped, scarlet fingernails and sock swathed toes. In the sky leaves hurtle themselves through the air like suicidal sparrows and fall around me Confetti, I think and watch the worn, withered things crumple ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    To empathize was to suffer To suffer was to feel alive To feel alive became the world to me...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    You’ll close your eyes against the world you’ll put your back to it you’ll ignore the cruelty raging beyond the confines of your safe ignorance you’ll live a mundane life never pausing to consider the scars on the face of society never making an effort to push the human race for...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I swear I’m in love with the world, with the way the rain drenches the earth, with the stars that wink above us, with the humans who are always making magnificent fools of themselves by falling in love and falling apart and chasing their fragile dreams, bursting with the hope that things...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Look into my eyes, lean into me, mold yourself around my softly beating heart, smile at me with all the affection and admiration you hold inside yourself, let your love be a bomb blast and explode from the vastness of it. I promise I won’t mind. Just— stop holding back. Don’t fo...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    No matter how I put it no matter how delicately constructed in the end no amount of alphabetic sawdust could possibly describe the bomb blast of emotion roaring inside me. I have been brought to my knees by it twisted inside-out by it and still— still it slices through my fragile skele...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    For once I will stop being the scientist, always trying to understand the stars within me, and just stand here under this lonely, glorious sky aching watching the stars shine as the sky swallows my sadness and turns it softly to light....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    They say life is hard, that it has no happy ending, that hope is a nothing more than a feeble concept. But I— I don’t believe what they say. I will burn these fears to the ground and I will dance in the ashes. Watch me....

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