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  • Poetry > Free Verse
    drinking Silk chocolate soymilk, Sit on a bench outside the classroom, Take out a pen and a piece of paper, write one line about my boyfriend lying sexy in our bed, and this oblivious moron sits down right next to me on the bench with his headphones and rap blasting; how l...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
    There’s one grey eye lash on her left eye, it’s been there since she was 12 and not too many people notice it. The rest of her eye lashes are always black, she doesn’t need mascara, her mother tells her over and over again. One grey eye lash since she learned about cancer ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
    Pink petals, young and unhealthy, their reflection painted on crystal beneath the vase, hanging to honey loose in the center, pink petals swinging with a hatchet motion, as you pick up your fork and you eat what’s on it, chicken and mushrooms and your little hands move and ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
    i dont know where i am driving on the same highway air conditioning on and im still hot things happen and theyre not so spontaneous anymore i dont get why you just wont call it a day if i dont pick up ill call you back unless you dont answer i dont get why you cut the grass and all it does i...
  • Fiction > All Fiction
    "Are you leaving right now?? Hello??" Every single time, EVERY TIME, he hangs up on me. I dial, he yells, I yell back, and the dial tone takes the conversation. EVERY SINGLE TIME. Did I make that clear? My father is the most impatient phone-dyslexic there is! "Hello? Dad! Did yo...
  • Nonfiction > Memoir
    Too many times a day I am caught staring at a clock trying to move the minute hand with the force and motivation of my eyes. Obviously the ideal direction of the minute hand depends on where I am and what I'm doing. For instance, math class is 56 minutes but due to the fact that I only had four ho...
  • Nonfiction > All Nonfiction
    “I want my money back!” the customer said dropping his naked, cracked sprinkle cookie flat on the counter. I hesitate, confused by the look of him. He was probably around the age of a mid-life crisis, with the center of his head as shiny as the newly Windexed milk counter behind him. ...
  • Nonfiction > Heroes
    I remember who inspired me to write every day: Vince, the guy who used to come to the coffee shop where I work. Even though he stopped coming and telling me his theories on life, I'll always remember him. He was a 29-year-old artist and novelist, and he always got Temple of Heaven tea, usually a ...
  • Hot Topics > What Matters
    He’s curled around her. His slim body, greyed hair, trapped under twisted sheets. His small hands collapsed on the small of her back, but he dominates her. You can tell from her face, her resting face. She doesn’t look satisfied. She doesn’t look peaceful. She doesn’t sle...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
    You can’t always depend on your eyes to see correctly or your ears to hear right. Sometimes you’ve just got to close them. So what if it’s unexpected from there? You’ve got to go -- walk with your feet and ask questions with your voice. And by doing this, I’m tell...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
    Sarah, you hurt so much, I want you to feel good, You hurt unlike the most, We hold you close, On tiles so blank, Unlike the stories that unfold, Clutching the sink, the counter, The towel rack, the window sill, You tell me stories, I don’t want you to feel sad, Your face is so w...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
    You don’t do it on purpose, I know better than that. First it was just a day by day thing, hidden in the once jade room. Aches and pains stole your smile and we brought you coffee. I wish you had eaten some breakfast too. I learned that others can you make you disappear. The govern...
  • Art /
    Photo > Photographs

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