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Living In a Dumpster Fire
The feeling, the sense, the being of despair. Despair of feeling decent, for once in my life. The drowning feelings of disarray.
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Haibun: Between Pink Stained Fingers
There’s a crab apple tree in my backyard. It’s been there for twenty years, four years older than I.
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My Light in the Dark
Maybe I overreact Maybe I’m just sensitive But ever since the third, Nothing’s the same.
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Why I’m Quitting Political Radicalism
I came of political age in a world of mass death and natural destruction. My first ballot was cast wearing a mask and standing six feet apart from everyone...
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Above It All
The sky was almost too blue to be real. The perfectly-shaped clouds slowly shifted across the sky. The grass was so green and fresh like I’d never seen it before.
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Heke Mai
Kate stays in her bed, day-in and day-out. But she still doesn’t feel awake or well-rested.
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Early Morning in the Ozarks
Table Rock Lake sits below me. Fog covers it like a blanket whispering through the trees,
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Lago Su Bella
Big red letters arch over my head as I walk through the front doors under the “Lago Su Bella” sign.
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Tulips
By Jordan Muscal, 17, Texas INT. GROCERY STORE, MORNING The automatic doors of a grocery store open. The AC buzzes loudly. Through the speakers, a country radio station blasts. A…
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Desired
By Malakhi Tanner, 17, Michigan I wanted so dearly to run forward, to steal myself a purpose, but feared grasping at hanging, tawdry fruit—rotten produce, neglected offspring of the tree.…
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Join us for our first annual create-a-thon fundraiser!
Join us for an interactive evening of adult fun through creating!
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Dear Mother
By Amanda Reid, 15, Illinois Dear Mother, You pushed me to do stuff I didn’t know I could do, Believing in me when no one else did, Always having faith…
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Drowning
Men are born at the bottom of the mountain, impoverished and indigent; they are told to climb the cliffs and that they will die alone...
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Comparison
Emily Biwer, 17, Wisconsin I stand facing this person, all I can see are her flaws. Comparing every bit of unattractiveness of her features. Her face, the reddening of acne…
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What Is This Feeling
Maybe it's Monachopsis, The feeling of being out of place. Or Athazagoraphobia, The fear of being left or abandoned.
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From Book Nerd to Gym Girlie
I was an asthmatic child, prone to wheezing and walking instead of running laps around the gymnasium during P.E.
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Intense Emotions
being abandoned feels like mourning a death
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Why Does Poetry Matter?
Our eyes see it. Our brain longs for it. For a connection.
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Her Skirt (a trio of vignettes)
A bit of pink. A bit of tulle. A bit of floof. I grab the fabric as it poofs up from the yellow cover of the bouncy bed.
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Sunlight and Trees
Birds and I sing together, I dance with grass – I climb the trees.
