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  • Poetry > Haiku
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    Was nothing but a Three-day relationship that Caused six tragic deaths...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Is this nothing but a white world, With color only an illusion? I was told that God created a beautiful rainbow, But what is a rainbow if it has no true color? Daylight stars? What is that voice? Is it nothing but a whispered contradiction. Only proving itself right and wrong all at once...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Will you wait for me Just so you can hold my hand? So we can intertwine our palms until My fingerprints permanently Swirl on your skin, As if I was touching soft wax. Will you whisper my name Like it is more beautiful than the sun? Treasuring it, As if it is a quivering butterfly Landi...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    the symphonic key is a hopelessly collect other its nonintersecting wingtips of Holland perfectly bright from concentrated joy. delicacies develop with the uncooked feeling. embracing one brief significance selected of washed importance. a microscopic green creating our steps to potentia...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    When I was young, I touched the sky. I swirled my little fingerprints through the blue that could not be matched by any hardware store paint chips. When I was done I grabbed a handful. I put it in a plastic bowl and ate it with a spoon. The sweet warm color filling my stomach until I ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    My stepmom smells like vanilla and something else. Something else I can’t name. I don’t know if I like her yet, my stepmom. Vanilla is okay. I guess. My Mother smelled like cinnamon Cinnamon was my favorite. My mother always carried cinnamon candies with her They filled up her jean...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    You are nothing but a ragged towel used in countless forts, wiped the blue rain off soaking children. Dried off the mud covered dog used as a superman cape or a princess dress. You are squeezed into the washing machine. Like all the times before. Only to be waterlogged with memories and soap...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I remember the day I sat in your chest and carved my name there. All the while you sat silently as I jabbed your skin with a grey rock I found in the grass. The crude initials dripping with your amber blood. Sweet sticky blood, like the juice of the apple that dripped down my chin as I sat...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    The classroom was silent. Ninety-nine percent of the students were focusing on the clock, willing it to go faster, willing the bell to ring and set them free. Brrrriiiinnnnggggg, it was like the green flag at the start of a NASCAR race, ninety-nine percent of the class room hurried out, shoving and ...

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