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- Poetry > Free VerseBy Charlotte L., New York City, NYI am stepping out of the shower when the phone rings I grab a towel and run down the hallway, soaking the wooden floors with my feet letting my hair flick water all over the walls I pick up the phone right before it stops ringing and pant hello. Only silence answers So I climb back into t...
- Poetry > Free VerseBy Charlotte L., New York City, NYPut your pencil down Close your notebook Sit back Shut your eyes As her quiet voice continues to tickle my ears, Irritated, I begin to bite my lips and pull out strands of hair One after the other It doesn’t stop and I feel as though I am sitting in the waiting room of a nursery schoo...
- Poetry > Free VerseBy Charlotte L., New York City, NYIs my grape your orange and your orange her pickle? Do you even feel a difference between soft and rough? If we are both told that this is grey, Do we still both see grey? Maybe to you it is red Its sound is loud like airplanes but perhaps shoes are noisier to you Does the letter E remind y...
- Poetry > Free VerseBy Charlotte L., New York City, NYCold, low to the ground, in the center of the corridor It calls my name and whispers “Hide here, drink from me for as long as you need and no one will notice.” The taste of water changes into a sharp, bitter spoonful of medicine forced down after the battle I have with myself...
- Poetry > Free VerseBy Charlotte L., New York City, NYA pen between my fingers index finger and thumb Serves as a brain when my mind is far away Taking a pen out of my hand is like unplugging earphones to an iPod The music stops I stop I look around I read but I think of other things while I read I stare I look at and not into And around an...
- Poetry > Free VerseBy Charlotte L., New York City, NYGirl Blue shirt She never wore anything else She is sitting alone. Always Not because she doesn’t have friends, but because she chooses to. She studies in an empty classroom, while the rest of us mingle in the hallways, exhausting our voice boxes. I have to look away so she doesn...
- Fiction > Realistic FictionBy Charlotte L., New York City, NYIn 1964, when Esme reaches the tender age of seven, she is handed a box wrapped in pink tissue paper and is told to open it. She carefully pulls the pretty paper off, and her face lights up when she sees perfectly round eyes with painted on lashes, a tiny nose and pursed lips looking back up at her....
- Hot Topics > All Hot TopicsBy Charlotte L., New York City, NY“I roam the streets of Facebook every night, knocking on my neighbors doors and reading flyers that have been pinned up by local citizens. I gain a lot of information from wandering these active streets. I make new friends by complimenting someone’s flyer, and can flaunt my identity by presentin...
- Fiction > Realistic FictionBy Charlotte L., New York City, NYThe house at 312 Wicker Street, the old Victorian one that had been previously unoccupied for months, was now filled with life again. The Grant family was excited to be part of a new community and enjoyed the view of Ludlow Park from their porch. At night, when all was quiet, except for the teenager...
- Poetry > Free VerseBy Charlotte L., New York City, NYShe is the doll on the highest shelf of the toy store The beautiful one, that nobody can reach. She looks at children, through the plastic that engulfs her, and blurs her beauty. The children look at her in awe and try to get her down Oh the perilous things they will do to hold her And yeste...
- Poetry > Free VerseBy Charlotte L., New York City, NYI hear your footsteps from afar I know they are yours from the rhythm of your walk I hear the ground start to vibrate beneath Your footsteps never change No matter sorrowful or seething, they remain as thunderous When you aren’t smiling, they grow slightly louder But only I can hear that ...
- Poetry > Free VerseBy Charlotte L., New York City, NYI knew what you were thinking, when you looked into her face You leave your thoughts behind, burning a path I can trace A path that never diverges nor contains ridges and bumps All one can hear, is the dagger going thump, thump, thump Words bounce up and down and back to their sticky nest Whe...
- Poetry > Free VerseBy Charlotte L., New York City, NYLadders that go nowhere Believing I’m ensnared Obstacles fracture the endless road, Piling up stress, making an even bigger load To carry on my shoulder, as it grows dark and it gets colder A hat I am unable to take and my shoulders start to ache Vines begin wrapping around the air Large ...
- Poetry > Free VerseBy Charlotte L., New York City, NYI cannot speak As I open my mouth a creature strangles my tongue forbidding words to come Nobody quiets me I silence myself My cheeks stiffen and the creature holds on tightly I cannot speak simply because I cannot respond to the response of my initial words Fear grasps a hold of me Un...
- Poetry > Free VerseBy Charlotte L., New York City, NYI love this pencil because it is broken Because the eraser fell off and the tip wore down I could sharpen it if I wanted to But I don’t My pencil broke in half Each piece is as long as the distance between my thumb and pointer finger I scotch taped the sides together My pencil sits on my d...
- Fiction > Realistic FictionBy Charlotte L., New York City, NYI was standing alone, waiting for my dirty, rusty yellow school bus to arrive. It pulled over leaving the smell of engine gas to choke me. As I entered the bus, as usual there was nowhere to sit. Reason being is that everyone thinks that the bus seats are meant for lying down. After passing four row...
- Poetry > Free VerseBy Charlotte L., New York City, NYIt is as if everything is moving past me as I sit. Quick glimpse at a tree, And soon it is history. Brief look at a shop, until it flies behind. Children toddling Mothers dragging Impossibly fast openings and closings Pigeons cooing Laughing, begging, mumbling, shouting And I sit in my s...
- Poetry > Free VerseBy Charlotte L., New York City, NYWe are that family that takes turns sipping water from the pitcher. That family that wakes up individually and digs for candy in our pockets that we will then eat for breakfast. That family that doesn’t eat breakfast, lunch or dinner but rather snacks on gogurts, cheese sticks and occasionally t...
- Poetry > Free VerseBy Charlotte L., New York City, NYYou’re mad because I carried on when you gave up You disliked that I was being congratulated while you sat in the corner, face smothered in tears of jealousy You were mad when I portentously walked through the hall and everybody looked, except for you of course You were steaming mad when my 15 ...
- Fiction > All FictionBy Charlotte L., New York City, NYMath class as you know, makes me feel as if I am caught in a fiery explosion or better yet, like a robber is coming in and stealing my imagination, my artistic skills and creative mind. Quick and sly he grabs my brain and heart and turns me into a heartless, ignorant and boring person. I am being de...
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