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  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    He (pushes me to the edge) plays with words in a sing-song joke believes in an unknown God and bleeds glitter I('m in his sweatshirt, curled in a modified fetal position) cry with happiness and shriek with joy that boy's something beautiful, I sing, and you (shedding silver) st...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Freckled lemonade sits on your doorstep the summer heat curdles its pink bubbles the sweet taste turns overly acidic your pink-striped bendy straw droops idyllic teeth-baring smiles perhaps look more frightening than endearing and Kodaks blow away only to settle in pitchers of frec...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Her head hangs down like a lopsided doll we stand, mollified the tire swing is empty and the dust beats leave us dead nonsense running through our heads like sick bugs in California leaving out the rest for a better movement to stop and actually try out best we all stop to gawk real life ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    she’s a rainbow child bruises decorate her like war paint cranberry streaks across the cheeks pillow feathers tucked in her hair drunk on life and delirious stumbling on lines and reciting the alphabet backwards retching up emptiness and smiling blandly she’s a rainbow child bruises d...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Your paperwork is losing me, slowly, but surely. My cubicle is now a sense of claustrophobia And each sheet that categorizes something that I believed words could never describe slices my fingertips a little deeper. Bent paperclips scar our eyes and rubber bands attempt to hold two peop...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Cinnamon smacks of Big Red gum tongues tingling spicy words in heated air Just this once I don't want fresh mint to cool me down....
  • Poetry > Haiku
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    she was a bare bulb who dreamed to turn herself to a glass chandelier. he was a christmas bulb who yearned to turn himself to a red stop light. if only the sick shadows would stop distracting them from each other....
  • Fiction > Romance
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    She was not beautiful. She was not pretty by his standards; she was barely even attractive. Her appearance bordered on stunning and bizarre, giving the boy a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach. The feeling was foreign and swollen, black and bruised. It was as if she had punched his gut, leav...
  • Fiction > Romance
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    She smacked her painted red lips together and they formed a small pout that only made her bottom lip seem plumper. A strategically placed hand on her hip and a cocked right eyebrow—perfectly plucked with the advice from Women’s Journal—completed the indignant look she was attempting. Her long...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Today is Monday, Perhaps Tuesday, now, I'm guessing, and my mind somehow feels the need to show how perfectly well it's functioning by never wanting to shut off. Oh, I've counted sheep, Pondered chameleons (Because sometimes invisibility is all I want), Drifted off, dreamt I...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    On the verge of sleep Drifting in some indecisive Boundary line between Dreamland and Real-land, The blood rushing in my ears Is almost too much form me to take. For the blood Thudding incessantly, Continually, mercilessly, Is the rhythm of Cartoon soldiers marching On s narrow cobbl...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    You're a cruel kind of riddle written inside candy wrappers Picked over and around in the blue familiar bowl Fluttering, indecisive fingers hovering over their choices-- But, in the end, leaving you for something sweeter....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    You're an outdated TV The ones with complicated knobs And buttons Such a small screen to look at, Such a small screen to attempt to see the full picture, With static running and running and running across the screen Competing ants, my father calls it So loud I can't hear what you're tryi...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Yes, I remember. I remember Track and field, Rubber cement glue, Soccer legs, And Ramen noodles in a cup. Chilly bleachers, metal seats, Tie-blankets, And taking pictures of me at tennis. Smiles and emails, Funny stories, Our hands interlocked. But now track and field season is over...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    The moon invades For, by nature, it is an invader-- of every nook and cranny known to man-- Slipping in on midnight viewings of Emeril cooking up a stirfry; Finding itself as the passenger in on a one-man journey to a fast-food chain --Yes, we're open late!-- After losing The One; ...

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