Student Work

The last time I spoke to you, when our mouths had opened, we had just kissed. Now our mouths don't open even to speak to each other. In fact, the closest thing to speaking I get is seeing your smile in a mirror. So after that I tried to find someone new, and it's funny I do. But I can't look her in the eyes or any other girl. Because when I feel anything like that it's just for you. So I've stopped speaking entirely And I'm happy with that You're smiling in the mirror, and th

You there! Don’t let anyone from the grapevine crew know I’m here! I’m stuck in here and I was wondering if you could help me escape. You see, on thanksgiving last year I started writing a story. I was simply sad, I felt disconnected and misunderstood, but when I looked closely at the letters I could see something on the other side, not just black colored letters. In fact, I can see you right now, just barely through these letters, it’s like looking at your freedom from sidew

there’s nowhere like my family’s kitchen. there’s six of us - my mom my dad my brother my dog my cat and me we all have different lives and different stories are different loves and different hates and wants but the kitchen is where we meet we meet at the plant in the corner with a name i don’t know that i see my dad watering we meet at the spot on the counter where we feed our pets, eagerly sitting at our feet, breakfast and dinner every single day we meet at the stove, w

The poem I made is nothing Yes, literary, nothing! No words, no title, no rhythm, no metaphors Nothing but a single title What gives out something is odd Is it the time to say something Or no time of say a single rhyme The choice is on me The poem I made is nothing, Except one thing, that I am rhyming Without ever using a metaphor, Nor even a single rhyme to find a Perfect title to call my poem.

The feeling of thunderous pain struck my chest, causing my throat to close and ache. My eyes desperately tried to hold back the tears that threatened to burst onto my cheeks at any moment, creating a catastrophe of emotions. My bed seemed to sink around me, suffocating any words I wanted to say in that conversation. What was the conversation? I couldn’t tell you the details—my mind drowned out most of the memories. But the ache it left behind remains vivid. I do remember thos

i can’t write poetry. i don’t have the intellectual capability. give me a line of poetry to read give me a line of poetry that’s up to my speed tell me something i already know, because we all know a blonde couldn’t make up something on her own this rhymes but this doesn’t is this how you write poetry? let me abide to the pattern of thought that others want for me and let me allow you to let a phrase leave your mouth so freely without worry without thought behind the words

The girl is in the car. She’s on the way home from school. Her phone is in her pocket. She looks out the window And wonders: Is he thinking of her? The boy is talking. He’s laughing with his friends. His phone is in his pocket. He stares into space And wonders: Is she thinking of him? And throughout the day, Four different thoughts over the time change. is she still asleep? is he already awake? is she still awake? is he already asleep? Their thoughts Entwined Holding on to on

(not the smothering heat one would expect from summer days) On sunny days I think about you. I wonder if you’ve thought of me just as much as I think of you even now – it’s an unlikely possibility. The moments where I think about all the memories we’ve shared, I smile. Not the one people take hours to practice, not the one that makes me look good – no. It’s that cheesy smile I’ve preserved only for you. On sunny evenings I wish you’d talk to me like before. Where my presence

It is July 5th in Halsey Hall Little blue ballerinas flit around the ancient building Far older than we can imagine Energy pulses in every nook of its sturdy wooden skeleton Our soft hands turn white as we grip the polished wood Because we still haven’t learned control A new piano plays an old song Still spry, it swirls around us As if caught in a slipstream And when we push open the windows Because Halsey doesn't have air-conditioning The music spills onto the street and da

We shared a love, both spicy and sincere The juicy nuggets like a gentle kiss With every bite, your warmth would reappear No truer touch — I never dreamed of this But Sundays, God commands you not to stay I don’t believe, yet still I have to fast Your warmth is blocked, our closeness gone astray Starved by the Sabbath, left to fade at last Your comfort fills my stomach and my heart A warmth I know I will truly cherish But faith has built a wall to keep us ‘part And in its sha

The world runs on sevens. Susan learned this in the deep Texas country of her childhood. She was standing in the muggy heat, watching her Father raise his glinting blade up high before bringing it down with a thud onto the rooster's neck. It took seven minutes for Father to walk outside, go into the rooster’s pen, carry it by the neck to the chopping block, kill it, skin it, bring it back inside, and give it to Mother with a smile. Seven people. Susan dated in college, but

I wanted to be yours, but my emotions were getting the best of me I realized everything I said was because I was emotionally attached to you I wanted to be yours, but it can’t go back like it was before — I can’t wait here forever expecting you to open your eyes and see what’s in front of you I wanted to be yours, wear your last name — but the more I reached for it, the more it ran from me I wanted to feel love, but falling in love turned into sadness and anger to the point

In the happy green meadow Where sunlight falls in rays I think it's so pretty Yet I think only of your face The field turns solemn Just like my heart My head is angry Like it's tearing me apart Why do I love you so When I know it doesn't work I know It's incompatible And when it is, it hurts, And when I get happy, And I try to grow, I see that face in every place And then… it isn't so I wish I could kiss you But you’re so far And why oh why Do I leave my love door ajar For

I was falling. Drifting as the air carried me down. I remember being on the tree, surrounded by other tulip leaves. It was warm then. My stem had been steady against the tree, a sturdy connection between all tulip leaves. Slowly, it became weaker, withering and severing over time. And now I was falling. There was nothing special about it either. Hundreds of others fell with me. I wasn’t the first. I wasn’t the last. And when I finally hit the ground, it wasn’t what I exp