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  • Nonfiction > All Nonfiction
    I laid on the cool, white tile in my parent’s yellow bathroom, observing every detail of the English Springer that lay in front of me, her white-based and black-spotted nose only two inches away from my freckled one. I traced my fingers up her muzzle to two midnight-colored pools and back down...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
    Eyes locked Staring patiently On one person On one door On one gate Growing impatient By the minute For more love For more walks For more leash Days pass Months and years Still no love Still no walks Still no leash Eyes locked Staring patiently Hoping for life Hoping for joy H...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
    Daughter of the south and north Who needs her whole family Who hates the humidity Who fears of lightening Who dreams of being trusted Who has found better poems than this one A permanent resident of the dew-glittering earth...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
    I am Emily Great-Granddaughter of June Greguire and Maddy Belle Lee Who needs alone time without actually being alone Who loves everyone from her family to her friends Who sees the world differently each day Who hates everything from human trafficking to horse slaughter Who fears of heig...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
    Pansies are yellow No flower is mellow And everything is different it seems Twins aren’t the same People have weird names And our love has changed teams Gas is gaining cost Money is being lost Americans are being traded for Japanese ‘Love’ is a penny It all seems f...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
    People shake when they take me I am addictive and you will see Just grab a dose of my white powder And you will feel your legs start to flounder Not only your legs, but your arms too. Your brain will make things that are unreal to you. You might talk to no one in particular And before you k...
  • Nonfiction > All Nonfiction
    This Sunday it will be exactly 4 years since Jennifer died (4/20/4). Ms. Jen was my two friend's mother, who, I believe, kept the family together. She made sure everyone's coats were on right when snow was on the ground and she gave us popsicles during the summer months. But then there was that...
  • Nonfiction > Travel & Culture
    When I was very little, my family and I began road trips to my grandmother's condo in Florida. We would drive past mountains, and hills. Barns with collapsed walls and old houses that have been through strong winds and have withstood severe storms. I remember looking out the window and allowing my...

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