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  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    All the stories, all the allusions My fingers lightening through pages of an ocean Looking for the words to match my own conclusions, By voices who are disappointed in my choice of potion They tell me to step away from heaven, to abide, And face hell with dignity and pride...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    She lived in a world of black and white He lived for her; watching, waiting, for madness to ignite Like a match, she sparked in front of a dusk covered mirror She stood ablaze, smashing, bashing, to see ever clearer The glass now broken, shattered, potent, flew a shard out of sight Oh how s...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    Mary Jane stood outside the corner convenience store watching the people walk in and out of the automatic sliding doors, too interested in their dull lives to give her even a glance. She put her hands in her pockets and felt cool medal on her fingertips. She had some change. She brought it out and...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    He was lying on his bed watching House when he heard the knock on his front door. It was 3 am. There was only one person who would ever come to his house at 3 am, but he was too stupid to realize that. He looked out of his bedroom window and there she was, standing and shivering on his father’s do...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    He walked up the steps in line with the rest, just another toy soldier off to battle. But he wasn't just another toy solider: his gun was real. He was another human being. Blood coursed through his veins, carrying the oxygen he breathed in through his lungs. His heart was beating. His hands were war...
  • Fiction > All Fiction
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    It was 4:57 am when I woke up with a purpose. A purpose I hadn’t thought of yet. I rolled myself out of bed and crawled on my hands and knees over to the window. It was June, and I was cold. Frost spread over the inside of the window like a virus, growing and infecting every crevice and ev...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    He drank himself to sleep that night, which wasn’t that different from every night. They would all ask him why, like he had an answer, like he had an answer they would believe. So he’d lay on his bed finding the only light he knew was from one single candle, and would watch it breathe as he thou...
  • Fiction > Romance
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    His kids would always ask him, when he told the story of their mother and his wedding day, what would’ve happened if a train came and ran them over. He’d say, “Well I don’t know, all we could do was cross our fingers and pray it wouldn’t happen until after we said, ‘I do’”. The kids ...
  • Fiction > Thriller/Mystery
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    He drew the long, dark strands through his fingers. They looked exactly like hers—the same soft feel, mystifying complexion, and a subtle glow that reflected every drop of moonlight. But that was long ago…last he felt hair like this. So many sunrises…each one taking bits and pieces of his hope...
  • Opinion > Social Issues / Civics
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    We spend our hours throwing away seconds, and sending the minutes out to find them. But eventually we’ll call them back, and put them together to make days. Soon we tire of the days, so we count them off one by one until we have years. The years will grow, and we will ignore them, until they’re ...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    She walked alone in her drunken apathy down four roads and three turns to his house. The doors were locked, so she found a vulnerable window to climb through. She stumbled into his eleven foot by twelve foot room and sat cross-legged on his twin sized bed, watching his dim figure’s chest inhale an...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    When he walked into the room she was sitting on the window frame, one leg hanging over the frame carelessly lingering in-between inside and out, the other bending upward and wrapped in her left arm. She didn’t face him. She only gazed into the darkness sprinkled with touches of light that lay beyo...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    The sound of cleansing drumroll caught my eyes and grabbed the judges ambition for relatibility, Held not in an entrance or escape but on visible hidden platforms agreed on cutting me down for wasting time set up for tomorrow with limited experience and inclement weather. But meaningless expec...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    An apple entwined in lissome fingers of her right hand, She embraces it to hollow forms of a tenuous cheek, Harboring every taste. Sveltely enlivening fire ablaze in her left hand, The hand nearest her heart—enflamed, Always beating faster in the spring. She sits somewhere in-between G...
  • Opinion > Environment
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    A girl stands at the gate and inhales her sweet annihilation. The new fall September air chills her cheeks faced aloft to the estival sky and weaves through the loose threads of her gloved covered hands. Her face somber, she watches the two before her advance into the prodigious cascading fields of ...
  • Fiction > Romance
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    She woke to a song—a song of life—taking in the breath which qualified her for the class of the living. This qualification was a prize—a prize she believed undeserven. She was wrapped in a black colored comforter, only the heat from her own body warmed her on the unpleasantly cold autumn mor...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    There was something different about that night. We just lay there on the bed, him and me. My hands, with fingers intertwined, set over my face, half covering my eyes—I did not look at him. I don’t think he was looking at me either. We hardly ever did that, there was usually something to say. W...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    There was something different about that night. We just lay there on the bed, him and I, each smoking a cigarette, mine with my left hand, him with his right—silent. We hardly ever did that, there was usually something to say. We’d natter on in endless conversation—or even make love. Maybe if ...
  • Opinion > Love / Relationships
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    I wrote a story the other day. It was beautiful, a tragic love story. I showed it to my doctor who read it thoroughly and looked at me speechless. When the words finally formed in her mind and slipped from her tongue she asked me were the emotion in this came from. I’ve never been in a serious rel...
  • Fiction > All Fiction
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    She A diminutive young female stood within the doorway. She held herself with a stature of perfection, her feminine fingers on her small hand combing her hair aside, grouping it from right to left, her radiant white tresses falling perfectly in place. She wore humble bleached jeans, embracing her s...
  • Fiction > All Fiction
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    A young girl stood in a lifeless room holding only three different mirrors aligned in a row. Breathing lightly she smiled, excited for the journey to the gold door situated on the other side of the room. She stepped slowly, rolling her feet from heel to toe toward the first mirror. With each step sh...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    I break your heart, You break mine. I say sorry, You say its fine. I love you, You used to love me. I won’t give in, Why you can’t see. I can’t leave you, You won’t leave me. It brings unbearable pain, From which we can’t flee. It seems so endless, As if to go on forever. All...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I stand here every day watching my reflection. You stand here every day saying how beautiful I am. I stand here every day looking at the scale. You stand here every day laughing how my weight doesn’t matter. I stand here every day insulting myself. You stand here every day giving me complimen...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Dreams are wisdom caught in your mind if you have something to say. Then why does it seem I dream every night, I think it means I always have something to say. Although it seems I can’t say anything, because I’m always in my own way of saying it. The things I can’t get out of my mind, haunt...

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