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  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I. Any classic novel that was later turned into a Disney movie, leather jackets, that flavored water squeezy stuff, the pink jacket, JET, Superheroes (specifically Batman and your mother), perfect teeth, hole-y tshirts, ladybugs. II. Jazz, khakis, AP US History, food puns, French, Portugu...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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      I like him. he makes me laugh without ever really doing anything hilarious and he’s cute and wears nice shoes and I like the sound of his voice and also his eyes and his hands. But, there is someone I like better. That is you. You’re the closest I’ve e...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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      It’s a Sunday the windows are rolled down it’s sunny but it isn’t hot we don’t catch any red lights there’s a good song on the radio which is spotty and keeps cutting out but we don’t mind, we just carry on through it and keep singing ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    To my sister: You cling to me, curling my hair in your sticky palms, eyes glued to the TV, we are watching Mulan for the third time this week and you say, “Reesie, I want to be like that.” and all I say is “you should, babygirl.” And then credits roll and we go play dress up and y...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    you reach for me, your hand sliding across the cold veined bus seat leaving a sluggish trail of warmth. that seat is approximately fifty inches long. that’s enough room for me, you and friendship on any given day. but sometimes when we’re alone, you squeeze friendship ou...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I pray for the days when you let yourself love me. I kneel at my bedside and fold my hands and I tell God I’ve never seen love like this, never seen love with streaks of sunshine in his hair and raindrops on his tongue. Never seen love who speaks with the understated intelligence of a rainy...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I met you last September I think, you were dying to show me the inside of a janitor’s closet and the inside of you. Yes, I mean that sexually, because feelings weren’t your thing. And so I pretended They weren’t mine either. This is the first time I’ve written about them, my feelings f...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Mona Lisa is an object, she is beautiful. I thought objectification meant i was art. And it wasn't until recently that it hit me : nobody gives a damn what Mona Lisa’s favorite song is. Nobody asks her about her favorite book, but lifetimes are spent studying the way her neck blends ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I fell for you kicking and screaming I tried to hang every thought of you by it’s neck. I wailed on my own chest, trying to bruise my fast beating heart, if I had known you were gonna do that for me, I could have saved my sore fists. I tried to purge  every late night snack of a dream t...
  • Fiction > Scripts & Plays
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    Characters Ella: Age eighteen, tall and rather ordinary looking, she was named for the jazz singer Ella Fitzgerald. She carries herself with grace and composure. When she was eleven, her parents left her with her Nona and her Grandpa (who is recently deceased)for a reason still unknown to...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    your hands were cold and small and all your fingers were the same length and you dare ask me if you had the skill of my thick armed boy who’s neck I always found myself staring at, trying to make out the fading imprints of my lips. a cold hand on pink lace in classroom darkness is nothing...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    don’t even say that to me. I’ve hated my body so much I’ve burned and scratched it and our friend Eloise throws herself against walls until there are holes in her sheetrock and purple kisses on her shoulders. Sylvia Plath slammed her head in an oven and our friend Georgia tried to k...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    How many flavors of chapstick do you know? How many lipstick stains have you bleached from your collar? How many flavors of gum have you tasted through foreign tongue? Tell me darling, is more than a handful really a waste? How many times exactly have painted fingernails ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    The shapes you traced on my back (stars and diamonds, I think) are shapes I hope I never forget. Your fortune-cookie tongue on mine is a taste I hope I never brush away. Your hands climbing my ribs beneath my shirt melted my skin and now your handprints are on my bones. Someho...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I won’t give a damn if there are red marks on my lower back from sticks and leaves as long as it’s you who peels the t-shirt from skin. I won’t give a damn if there’s a mosquito bite on my breast as long as you promise to stop the sting with the heat of your tongue. You won’...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Sometimes at night, while i struggle to hold you, you slip from the sheets to get a glass of water, but never come back. In the morning, I forget to turn the shower on because I am too busy staring a the yellow tile. So I stand there, cold, naked, raw and think of nothing but you and the reaso...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    She wakes up and her back aches. She fell asleep on the couch again. Loneliness turns bed sheets to snow and she has never been one to embrace the cold. She runs veined hands across her wrinkled face, wipes away drowsy remains of her dreams. She folds laundry, metal buttons the only so...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Saudade (noun ; longing, nostalgia) I. We were the dirty footed girls, the truth twisting girls, the secret keeping girls; laying in a field somewhere tying knots in the stems of daisies and blowing white off dandelions. We had slightly red, wide eyes with wet lashes. Through shadow...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    We were made to hunger for lips like fingers beg for rings. In the corner of the room you tried to kiss me. My skin was stretched tight against my ribs. “starving from a lack of kisses” you said. I guess that was true, but your kisses could not fill me and I am still sorry. Every...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    my fingers are made of chalk and your body is a blackboard. my waist is a paper bird and you are an origamist. my collar bones are branches and your lips are sunlight. you taste like cinnamon gum, you smell like tangerines, and your hand on my cheek melts away all the cold. the bac...

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