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  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    They were broken children Their scissored minds ran them I spirals Until they sat with crossed legs And crossed lips Trying to press themselves flatter Under the paper-weight of depression   They were cut-strings marionettes Who danced In an attempt to wring calories From th...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    Love.   I grew up in what I later had labelled for me as "une famille anglaise typique" which constisted of me, my brother and my parents. it was as typically happy as those typical families that can be found in typical children's books and typical children's imaginations. We were that "Close...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    You took a bath In the boiled blood And pathological depression Of the body you hated.   You'd made your incisions nice and neat; That was your irremovable style. No chance of missing the veins That lay beneath your skin Like sewage works, Churning the thick weariness Of you...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Ginger Is beautiful, when worn by you; Molten amber skudding your spine Especially in the light - Your ponytail is a sunrise of colours. Freckles Are beautiful, when caught by you; Like you were sprayed by summer And left out to dry Until you were pinpricked brown With the smel...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I suppose I must smell a little like The toxic after-taste Of all my wasted dreams And a little like The strawberry lip-gloss I try to hide them in. I suppose I must smell a little like The acid, boiled-out sweat Of all my ballet classes And a little like The satin pink trappings I stil...
  • Hot Topics > Letters to the Editor
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    I suspect that this is going to be one of those things that isn't possible but I was wondering whether, at some point, the set up for submitting videos will change to accept non-youtube entries. As a budding dancer, I would love to be able to share footage and get feedback on it like I can wit...
  • Hot Topics > Letters to the Editor
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    The April 2014 issue was an event of many firsts: it was my first Teen Ink magazine, my first publication irreversibly on paper, and my first realization of my unextraordinariness. On top of this it was also a chance to wonder at the writing of other teens, especially “I Like/I Hate” by Sami ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Why is it always 2am? People always write 2am Across Every Night Time Excursion. 2am for gunshots 2am for break ups 2am for making out 2am for restless insomnia What’s wrong with 02:17:35 They taught us to round numbers up and D_wn Di they not like that our solutions were Awkwar...
  • Opinion > School / College
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    There are many reasons why I would like to have Michael Gove’s face on a punch bag in my room. The general all-encompassing one is that I feel it may spark a hitherto unsuspected boxing career. In an ideal world, having finessed my talent, I would have a go at the man himself but I fear this might...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    My science teacher said: We’re all just star crap And everything we know Is formed of the same side effect And I said, As compilations of star crap, How did we all learn To feel, to love and to break?...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I’m curious About when you fall in love. Is there a moment Where your torso Tips and your stomach Spits and fumes? Is there a point When the ground Unravels from beneath and Your throat is Overwhelmed with nausea? Or are we all just perpetually falling but can only realise it when we se...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    “I like to keep my school books In colour order; Honestly, I’m so OCD!” Honestly? I’d pity you but I haven’t time. My time is caught On the grated, raw skin On the backs of his hands From the incessant washing, Cleansing, purging, eradicating As he attempts to scour away The int...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I know I should be happy I should shout my minor glory At ears that don’t want to hear But, in truth, I feel naked. I am exposed. It’s the first time that my words are made of printer’s ink Not pixels And I’m scared by the idea That I cannot simply click delete When you’ve begun t...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    i sharpened my pencils Into stubs And watched graphite bruises Fall to the floor. i liked destroying. i sharpened my tongue Honed a blade And watched it cut your wrists To match mine. i liked destroying; It meant i wasn't the only one Who was destroyed....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    You said: “I’m sick of poetry. I bet the first poet was pissed But they all just copied him.” I said that Poetry wasn’t like that It was words spilling From an overfilled glass; They staggered and slurred On the page until They seemed to have a meaning. And you said: “Exactly....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Each morning You add another layer to your mask, Eat another grain of eyebrow, Bruise the fringes of your lids a little darker Are you so afraid of your beauty That it must be swaddled? You singe you scalp, And dye your lips So that colours crumb in the creases. Sometimes I wonder; Do you ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    “I’m not going to begin with introductions because I don’t like my age.” “It reminds me of how old I am.” “When do you become old? – I was thirteen.” “Who made this bus yours?” “Don’t ‘f*** school’ it’s unsafe.” “I’m broken.” “I do mind, actually.” ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    You had muesli teeth, I thought, When you smiled And you ornamented my arms With highlighter swirls. You liked skateboards and surfboards And you drew impossible rollercoasters Which scrawled, lawlessly, across your math book. We had wars with rubbers, I remember, And hysterical, incri...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Oh sorry, I forgot you’re really suffering I forgot your hands are bitten By the 5 degrees wind As you stand on the graves, And that you left your gloves on the coach Along with the packed lunch Your stomach is calling for As you observe the Fuhrer’s picnic Of broken and devalued ashes...
  • Poetry > Haiku
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    Bleed brain on paper Inscribe its dark truths in ink Then come fire. Devour....
  • Reviews > Book Reviews
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    I knew it was a book; books have a distinct feeling in your hands no matter what they have been wrapped in, a feeling of malleable weightiness – heavy with promise. I removed the sticky tape, inching it away in an attempt to preserve the Christmas trappings but it refused to cooperate and my impa...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    The holidays are chocolate, Like nectar on the first square. Days piled up to mountain ranges, With heady scents of dizzy sugar promises. And the whole week, expectant In my waiting palm. I eat like the starving My mouth sours with greed And my throat is thick with time. Time gulped and w...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Brand new: Pink, bald, squirming, Porcelain bud. Brand new: Tag still through my ear, The shop scent clothing me Like perfume. Together we sit in a cot, Exhausted by our arrival, And sleep. Hair now, Fine and wispy In smoky blonde clouds. We share squash In a plastic cup Arms ar...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Thank you, Christmas, for the cross-eyed, singing penguin Stuffed out of sight under the bed, And for the sheets of icy rain, And white buds of hail scattering the grass, For the short, restless night – late night, early morning, And for the disappointment of wrapped-up Rulers and gel pens. ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    A week of freedom and joy Because nothing matters A week to do the dreamt of things That floated tantalisingly behind the questions on the page. No Because there are still chains, The things left undone for “another time” Creep round limbs, Ensnare Drag down The questions inked upon...

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