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  • Nonfiction > Memoir
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    There is dust. Dust everywhere. It swirls and coats everything evenly, creating oceans and mounds of gray. It looks like dead powdered sugar to me. When Maria opens the door, the dust releases its hold, jumping into the air like we've surprised it. Maria motions for me to follow her, and I step into...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    All the world’s a stage. The men and women, merely players. But what they don’t tell you, is that sometimes you don’t pick the part you play. What they don’t tell you, is that sometimes you get stuck in the wings or in the background. What they don’t tell you, is that you don’t contro...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Gates of black iron, Stairs of strong steel, Metal hills and bronze mountains, Pointed, Icy, Sharp, Seemingly, But not. No barbed wire, no dripping thorns, No titanium walls or knife-edge doors, No. Just words. Just books and dust and black ink pens, Just gray numbers and coughing ...
  • Opinion > Discrimination
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    I write. I string words together like beads on a thin length of fishing line, I fit syllables and vowels in ways that slide off tongues and splash like raindrops across the page. I write. Madeleine? She plays basketball. Marilyn loves her closet. Emma reads, and Lauren’s iPod is a permanent att...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    And sometimes we realize that we are alone. We are alone in that no one will ever understand what we thought we were meant to do, in what we thought we were meant to be. At some point life doesn't end like a movie. It just ends. It's then that we see all the time we were moving towards a b...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    I'm fighting a losing battle. This is what Ive come to realize. This is what high school means to me. Swimming upstream, pushing two magnets together, climbing up a down escalator, and not in the good mushy high school musical way. I am not "standing out" and "becoming my own per...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    You don't matter. Remember that. Remember that when you're laughing at me Remember that when you're teasing me Remember that when you're bullying me For trying. And when you're slurring secrets about you're half remembered Friday night, And when you'r...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    The white light from the computer screen touches skeleton shadows on my face. I type. I breathe deeply and exhale words, the wind tickles through leaves outside my window. The dry crackles turn wet and sweet, and hit the ground like lemonade. It sounds like rain. The cold tangles itself i...

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