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• Poetry > Free Verse
  At Dawn

  

  By i_sold_my_soul_to_books, Trabuco Canyon, CA

  At Dawn I think you'd look good in dawn I think I'd like you in dawn Shirt sleeve fallen from your shoulder Eye lids hanging like half drawn curtains Breath like high tide Stained pink and yellow I'd like to know you at dawn We'd introduce ourselves Tangled in...
• Nonfiction > Personal Experience
  I am Found a Writer

  

  By i_sold_my_soul_to_books, Trabuco Canyon, CA

  I wasn't born a writer. I was raised by writers; I was raised by women with ink in their veins. They handed me left over words and half finished ideas; they carried me into different worlds, and forgot to mention the worlds didn’t exist. I found writing at the edge of everything, fol...
• Fiction > Realistic Fiction
  Small Moments

  

  By i_sold_my_soul_to_books, Trabuco Canyon, CA

  Small Moments Prologue It was hot, which was nothing new. Heat is a constant around these parts. You can’t escape it, not with an industrial air-conditioner or a pool filled with ice. So tough it out, bring lots of water and come with me. I’ve got something to show you. Something small. ...
• Nonfiction > Personal Experience
  What It Means To Be Cool

  

  By i_sold_my_soul_to_books, Trabuco Canyon, CA

  I am the atypical teenage female. I wake up in the morning, throw on a t-shirt and jeans, stare at my hair and then run a brush through it. I rarely ever do my make up, I don't put fancy product in or straighten my hair. My shirts generally come in solid colors, that are cut appropriately. S...
• Poetry > Free Verse
  A Dog Named Danger Pants

  

  By i_sold_my_soul_to_books, Trabuco Canyon, CA

  Danger Pants: A small mix breed of seven pounds, rescued from the streets, and, on occasion, maddeningly loud. Freshly groomed with frilly pink bows adorning each ear. She is adorable. Today her name is Danger Pants. The giver of such a name? My Dad. The man who takes the mornings and m...
• Poetry > Free Verse
  My Dream is...

  

  By i_sold_my_soul_to_books, Trabuco Canyon, CA

  My dream is a world that will not falter move forward free from any halter A world of people who are accepting and kind and keep the needs others at the forefront of their mind A world of dedication and respect that knows nothing of neglect Where the demands of society do not dictate ...
• Opinion > Social Issues / Civics
  Words

  

  By i_sold_my_soul_to_books, Trabuco Canyon, CA

  I can sit here for hours telling you all sorts of things. Lots of things. Funny things, sad things, true things, false things, fake things (and please don't get the those two mixed up. Fake and false are both very separate and different things) and not to mention true things. Oh the things one ...
• Nonfiction > Personal Experience
  Sitting

  

  By i_sold_my_soul_to_books, Trabuco Canyon, CA

  I took it sitting down. Hands on desk, smile painted on my lips and sitting. Always sitting. There was a group a couple feet away laughing and whispering. Every now and then they'd glance over at me and laugh harder. I was too loud, too weird, too different. I used to sneak up behind people and...
• Fiction > Sci-fi/Fantasy
  And So

  

  By i_sold_my_soul_to_books, Trabuco Canyon, CA

  Dipping slowly over the horizon the sun spread out over the lip of the world glowing faintly. Trees swayed gently in the August breeze. Laughter echoed around the canyon, voices toppled over each other filling the air with a constant murmur. The windows on the houses grew brighter in the fading ligh...
• Nonfiction > Personal Experience
  An Autobiography Written By and for Procrastination

  

  By i_sold_my_soul_to_books, Trabuco Canyon, CA

  “It’s not stupid!” says a voice from behind the bed. It’s not exactly a whine but at a pitch that suggests a whine might follow if people don’t stop calling their ideas stupid. “Oh really?” the same voice, it sounds skeptical; like its trying to mock something that isn’t really...
• Nonfiction > All Nonfiction
  The Trumpets

  

  By i_sold_my_soul_to_books, Trabuco Canyon, CA

  The loud trumpeter's call. A voice ringing clear and proud. Singing out farther than the rest, overshadowing the wind. Nothing heard above it's beauty, its triumph. So deafening that you never hear the ugly cries, the dirty ones, the ones half strangled with suffering. You are untainted...
• Poetry > Free Verse
  Sweet Nastalgia

  

  By i_sold_my_soul_to_books, Trabuco Canyon, CA

  Sweet Nostalgia Drifting like auburn leaves. Lost in the faded yellow of scattered memories. The bliss of sweet nostalgia. Adventures long past, jokes barely remembered. Cool autumn breezes and-no! We must return to reality. There is work to be done. Work that ...
• Fiction > Realistic Fiction
  Pennies

  

  By i_sold_my_soul_to_books, Trabuco Canyon, CA

  You’re on the ground, and you taste copper, like a penny. You remember pennies. You nearly choked on one when you were three. You used to search your back porch for Mr. Lincoln and some luck. One time while running through the house in socks, you actually slipped on one. Always the klutz. The day...