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  • College
    Guide > College Articles
    One student I read about online was conducting research to find a cure for diabetes. Others had broken national records in track and field while maintaining a 4.0 GPA. The definition of a “successful” high school student had never seemed more awe inspiring, but also intimidating. My parents r...
  • Hot Topics > Bullying
    You rip me in all the wrong places Shatter me into bits & pieces of dead glass So you could stare at me Through shattered lenses (& I needed you to hear the cold cracks) So I could say, listen, here, Play a sad song for me, And you could sing me A ballad, Featuring shivering b...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
    You visit me, Once in a blue moon. I find you in unexpected cracks And unwanted crevices Yet you still greet me With a broken heart, With a broken soul. The dead leaves Scratch at My broken heart, The dandelions give me Little parachutes To make little wishes For my little life, ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
    I want the grounds of sapphire dirt to stay cold, to weep warm tears and dry like crying ice, to match my burning insides. how you made art with the smoke that came out of your bitter mouth gave me chills, even when the melting grounds kept me cold. I want the dirt Of dusty grou...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
    If you're thinking that I'm lonely, you should know, I only know how fast it takes to make your cheeks grow red because you wouldn't talk back to me and I found a guitar and re-strung it with pine needles because now I know what a forest sounds like (and I needed you to hear it so I could ...
  • Opinion > Points of View
    It’s not that I’ve never needed anyone to understand, never to relate or sink beneath their nails. I’ve not asked one person to doubtlessly agree or ponder in the same perspective. I am my own pool. I build my own bulbs out of someone else's glass, and I’ve done it with ease. No one els...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
    I do this thing, Where I refuse to sleep So I can melt With the fading blues and blacks ‘til the shivers of dawn. I do this thing, Where I stare into the Fertile Crescent That concave From the nape of my warm neck, To the colds of my skull. Swollen bulbs Try to revive me in the Ci...

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