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  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Tell me again nothing is rational because tonight my brain is full of whistling atoms and whispers. Come drink the sky with me because the clouds are stained with quickened breath. Let me see the way dusk clings to elbows, eyelids on translucent flesh and please don't laugh when I...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    Glitter Since I’m going to tell you, I guess I should start at the beginning. The problem with that is where it starts, and whether all the knots and veins and tongues our parents told us about, or their parents, stopped in one cortex or another. So, since the beginning is hard to trace, I’ll g...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Fire ate my bones today, and sucked the marrow clean. Pupil swallowed iris till color thinned like April ice. So let blue swarm cerebrum and yellow sizzle knees till all I'm left are eyes and arteries....
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    Jesus didn’t have toes. I don’t know how many times I had run my fingers against his silver body before I realized that, pinching protruding ribs and suffering arms between my thumb and index finger. I stopped in the middle of “pray for us sinners” and glanced down at the crucifix. My bare l...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I want to lace chilled fingers in the space you leave for frost, those clear lines my bones could fill. And the curve between chin neck shoulder-- smooth like whinstone, I could lay my skull there and make a whole. Split between your lips, blink into whispers, lies, I would pour...
  • Opinion > Spirituality / Religion
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    I am tired. I am tired of being drowned out by fanatics, of having my faith misrepresented by newspapers and CNN, of being stereotyped and avoided because of my religion. But that is not what has made me rip my hair out until my scalp bled, or what made me vomit, or what made me pray until my lips t...
  • Hot Topics > Bullying
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    The last time I saw her, she wore blue eye shadow and a thin shirt with lace poking up past the neckline. Even then she looked fragile, but I wasn’t sure if it meant that she was delicate or that she would have been easily broken, and I had heard neither. I hugged the wall and pulled my books into...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    In the dark, with your hand on the wheel, bottle empty, I could rest my head in the shade of your neck. I could lace your fingers with chipped nails and forget light bleeds over trees. I could pretend your arms don't unnerve me the way they do, and I don't mind the nicotine when we...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Let me slither up that veiny delta under the junction of a wrist Let me rock you like the Green Line after curfew inside a cerebellum Let me lick the curve of a vacant stomach and drink from lymph nodes tethered like Christmas lights Let me burrow in your monotone and sizzle t...
  • Nonfiction > Memoir
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    I can tell you how I floss, how I grind my teeth when I sleep, how I press spoonfulls of peanut butter upside down on my tongue. I can tell you why I have ulcers on my gums and calluses the size of quarters on both big toes. I can tell you that my logic curled up like the corners of burned books and...
  • Fiction > All Fiction
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    Owl I’m Owl. Not literally, but because I see everything and can change nothing. I wish I could tell you my perch was on a weeping willow, but it isn’t; it’s on the street or in the halls, but I’m as invisible there as I would be behind crying vines. When I was little, my mother used to cal...

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