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  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    It was July when I told you about the Top of the World. In the arid cow town of my childhood, there was one out-of-place hill and we teens would force our sputtering motors to the top on more adventurous nights. From there we could see the city, its lights so bright that from the Top of the Worl...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I play cancer patient with makeup, tracing the dark contours of my cheekbones and the delicate butterfly skin under my eyes. Cancer patients get respect, reverence. I get nothing but tubes down my throat and in my arms, and I wonder why it is that my illness is so less regarded when it fract...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    After she left I took the last box of dye from under the sink and I went red, because she’d always told me I should go darker but she wasn’t here. After she left I rubbed bleach into my scalp and felt the burn of the chemicals, and washed it out and slathered red dye into my hair and...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I live with cigarettes in my back pocket. I twirl one between my fingers, curl hair that lingers on my forehead, brush it away and hope you’ll play this game of Living Dangerous. We knock wrists, the flask in my fist spills like the chills running down my spine, aligned with the wall, thou...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    Who would sing a song of death In autumn, to one about to die? Leaves ride upon the wind’s cold breath Leaving the branches bare and dry Now that the sun is obsolete The frigid cold’s aroused And with nature’s firm accolades The snowflakes drift and fill the streets Like crackled leav...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    New Year at Savemart, January 1 2006. She is a regular, her pink lipstick and chopped short hair garish as the fluorescent lights and television screen, blaring news of civil unions banned in the following states: Alabama, Colorado, Idaho, South Carolina, South Dakota, Virginia, Wisconsin, Ten...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    your eyes are sterling silver grey and your hair is black, with a few roots peeking through to match your eloquent eyes and now your fingernails are painted clear, a far cry from the days when you would paint them yellow and call them sunbursts. your skin is paper left, forgotten, in des...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Our love is a cliché. All good things come to those who wait, and I found a boy with a heart of gold. Every rose has its thorn but love is blind, and I loved you like there was no tomorrow. Our love is a cliché. Still, when all is said and done it chilled me cold as ice to see you go....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Through glass mirrors showing chocolate brown connect-the-dots freckles, I discover appearance. Through Sunday morning, foot stomping, hand clapping appraisals, I discover religion. With the sensuality of primordial word, I speak. Through 7th grade finger-pointing, half assed taunts in...
  • Poetry > Song Lyrics
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    Ripples in the pond Skipping stones with my heart You’re smiling gentle ecstatic The silver stone between your fingertips The laugh on your lips There’s a thousand adventures In the soles of your shoes Let’s take them together Light as a feather, strong as the wind Dust to dust, be...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    in the ghetto we judge spirit by shoes he didn’t have none when he was a kid, just bare feet. i wonder who he was we sit on his bed respect buzzing in the room and soon he trying to show me “the game” and how to play he say give guys that cold apathy til they dance in your p...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    He greeted me on a Friday night in the park where we’d first kissed, where murky lamps lit the darkness alongside the alabaster moonlight. Hey, he said. I kissed him, nervous. Something was off, and I knew it. It was the way he held my hand so loosely, the way he couldn’t form the words to t...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    He left his socks lying around. I was always going around, picking up piles of his dirty clothes. He didn't pay on our third and fourth dates, and he always wore too much cologne when he came over. There were nights when he didn&#...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I am not my mother's. She belongs to hard wooden pews, in a remorseless chapel where I have no place. Her coercion is relentless. The sound of her voice is that of a sinner, for she claims that we are all evil, all damned. But if your very soul is lost...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I hate the way the hair on the back of your neck is never even, I hate the way you wear two plaids together and shorts in the winter. I hate the way you used to talk to me like I was the only girl alive, and I hate the way I didn't feel the same way about you. I hate the way your parents l...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    He holds me and his kisses are rough, and I beg for him to please slow down, please not right now, but I still let him steal a few kisses before I turn back to my desk. Homework beckons to me and I pick up my pen, but his arms pull me back, and some...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Daniel caught my eye when it was hard for me to see myself The lace of his shoe was unraveled and when I hit the ground he asked my name Daniel, grasp my palm again when I can't seem to stand I was longing for sight but now I see your hand Down at fisherman's wharf you wore your g...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    No one believes where I go at night, because I’m nice and my grades are good. I have proof though, snapshots I’ve taken with the camera I sneak from my father’s bedside drawer. These images pervade my desk drawers, evidence that over the past couple years, I have slipped from my house in the d...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Walking through the halls Backpacks and heavy hearts in tow Promising plans for today After school, meet me at the Ridge And we can let go of everything Let all these teenage woes plummet over the cliff of oblivion Sinking deep into this beer as the music blasts Angry verses from your ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Fire escapes dangle precariously off the corner of buildings, leering over my head as I amble with my daughter in the city that is now home. Previously, home was suburbia: cool blue skies and houses perfectly aligned. Today, home is wherever my job takes me. A man blows a puff of ding...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I am like a white egg with a spidery crack along its side— simple, beautiful, but somehow just never quite right....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    that's what they call it; a broken glass won't change the past; a broken heart; that's all that lasts...
  • Opinion > Social Issues / Civics
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    Cops. Police officers. Whatever you call them, they have a simple, if difficult duty: to protect our town. But what happens when our supposed heroes disgrace themselves with profanities and unnecessary actions instead of completing their jobs with civility and honor? The men and women who are suppos...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    I’d made up my mind, and now it felt as if it was only Matt who mattered at that moment because whether or not my friends approved of the breakup, it was still something between us and us only. Silently, I slipped away from everyone, though I know they saw what I was doing almost immediately. I...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    The day reaches its winter, its last minutes in the sky. It hovers as if to forestall the inevitable. The darkness, a lethal opponent, reaches to choke day. A struggle ensues, sky burning blood red with the last of day’s endurance. With a lingering gasp, the day sinks into obliv...

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