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  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    It was the Saturday before spring break. You had a boyfriend, and so did I; it should have stopped us, but we managed to overlook that small concept called morality in favor of a long awaited taste of our own personal forbidden fruit. Catherine was upstairs, and our m...
  • Nonfiction > Memoir
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    It was the summer before ninth grade. Almost six months since I had marched out of the psych ward, tender pink scars hidden beneath long sleeves and a vow never to come back echoing through my mind. I had spent the past week in my late grandmother’s run-down house in North Carolina, packing thousa...
  • Fiction > Fan Fiction
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    Pride. As you crouched (notcowered) in the filth and grime of your rusted steel prison, stripped of all your material posessions, the only thing that remained was your pride. You watched as the other children died right in front of your eyes, victims of circumstances which were beyond your contro...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    You never liked basketball. Yet there you were, standing in the shaded corner of a broken down court, barely visible white lines sketched on worn down black asphalt taunting you with memories. Your head overflowed with the sounds of dribbling and shouting, and the overpowering smell of sweating bo...
  • Fiction > Sci-fi/Fantasy
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    Over the past two weeks, I had begun to notice something amiss when I looked in the mirror. My reflection's hair had started to look darker; a raven black to my mahogany brown; eyes more bloodshot than they should have been. But I had no real basis for the nagging unease I felt every time I was near...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    You think you know me, but you don't You try to get into my head You want me to talk, but I won't You will twist whatever's said You try to get into my head To hear what I have to say You will twist whatever's said My words are meaningless that way TO hear what I have to say You fill y...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    the way he talks is sporadic, diverging from the typical and inept language of the populace critical at the same time he is aggressive and gentle but never passive and always sentimental listening to him makes me feel like i alone know the esoteric things that are to others unknown ...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    'Frank are you okay?' a voice soars over the deafening crowd reaching out to him so desperately he wants to say 'No, I'm really not okay' but he just stays crouched, crumpled next to the amplifier watching him. 'I will not kiss you,' recollections of the past flood his min...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    Silky hair frames a porcelain face A dress that's decked in beads and lace Perfect portions, figures faultless Expressions frozen, ever dauntless Dainty hands forever clasped 'Round umbrellas, bags, and mardi gras masks Some flaunt hats or velvet bows A pallid daisy or blood red rose ...
  • Art /
    Photo > Photographs
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  • Art /
    Photo > Photographs
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  • Art /
    Photo > Photographs
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  • Art /
    Photo > Photographs
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  • Art /
    Photo > Charcoals
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  • Art /
    Photo > Photographs
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