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  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    It feels like i'm at an awkward age where my writing is getting too dark for teenage magazines but not quite mature enough to become adult literature. I slide knives across my skin in a desperate attempt to gain sensitivity or any sort of feeling. Sometimes i think of the smell of pizza and gag...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    She looks at things with awarness of lighting’s influence. Something has clicked or flipped or switched inside of her, into the off position. What is there to see in the dark? She fumbels in it during the sun’s hours, but when he sleeps behind the moon a diffrent kind of brightness lights her...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    I climbed onto the transit bus and hesitantly chose a sideways spot on the right of the back. What I thought to be the most isolated. I didn't want the smell of crystallized deodorant coming from the public to seep into my sweater. I crossed my legs into a pretzel and looked over the people sha...
  • Fiction > Romance
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    Those eyes. Full of hurt and promise. Contradicting themselves, unsure of which direction to drive. They’re luring me in. the iris of the heart, so pure in intention but easily distracted. Usually by heroin. The fiend of the heart. I met him in the centre, sitting starkly obvious and innocent l...
  • Hot Topics > What Matters
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    http://www.neahin.org/programs/schoolsafety/gunsafety/statistics.htm Why are people so violent? Maybe it’s a defense mechanism. Maybe they're scared of what they don't know. There scared to step out of their comfort zone because they could be pinched by something. That’s why Ame...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Words Words stray from my brain like seagulls from man. The trees still grow with branches of maple, liken, oak. Water them and in love they will soak. Patterns of leaves, falling from the sky. Kids jump through them shooting them high. In a grave of colored leave I’ll forever sleep Pile t...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    They have no shoes. When we have more than 10 pairs. They have no clothes. When we get new ones every week. They have no food. When we stuff ourselves to the point of throwing up. They have no clean water. When we wash in hot water twice a day. They have rotting teeth. When we have more tha...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    the blood drips down her face, she looks at the mess she's made tears rush down in a race, she cleans the blade, and the spilled red has darkened the carpet shade, if her parents found out what she did they'd put it in the permonent record files they wouldnt understand, mom and dad don...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    you stuck a fork in my heart and feasted on my love, but its never enough, you carved my mind into a narrow space, then made me think about trust, when you werent in love, your in lust, your wisdom started scraping my soul, and you lied about beleiving me. i ripped up my clothes with a...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    I am all stains that you must ignore. I’m winning, but no-one’s keeping score.. My words leak out, missing gloss. And it looks like I have encountered a loss. You are it, your the golden one. A spider and I’m in your web I’m spun. We walk past, and I spill silence on your face. And ...
  • Art /
    Photo > Other Images
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