I stood waiting under the canopy of the over grown maple tree. I look at the old, dark brown, peeling, bark; I could see the little “F+B” carved into it. Cliche, I know, but it takes me back. Back and back and back to when we ran into each other in this very forest. 

I was sitting on the wet bridge. My surroundings smelt of fresh rainfall and worms. My head phones wrapped themselves around my head. They pressed in...

The crickets chirped, and the moon hardly lit the trail. My heart beat quickened as I stepped off into the darkness as it swallowed me whole. My sense of direction evaporated like puddles after the sun comes out. I inhaled the night air, realizing that I was truly alone. I started walking, which progressed into a sprint. I no longer cared about the noises that made me jump or the butterflies in my stomach. I tried to rationalize the crazy...

I’m well 

But that was the night 
you got rescued 
from a great piece of art 

And it was the best day 
for y’all to come to the school 
of art 
in this book 

it is really good 
for a while
but I gotta go

I can be very hard 
to get rid of 
but it was really well done 
to me 

without my name
i am

i am the one
who smiles easily
laughs often

i am she who 
dances and sings
with the music

and creates it
occasionally

i conjure words and 
twist ink to form 
tales of butterfly-wings and 
dragon-flames

i have many friends and 
relatives
some by blood
some are my 
brothers and sisters
in Christ
some are both

i am she who may be
remembered
who will probably be
forgotten
by many more

but i am a...

and the room is clean and airy, cloaked in icy
darkness, but the fierce eyes of the alarm clock paste
pixelated numbers across the barren white
walls, a faint aquamarine creeping, stabbing through
lidded eyes, then a sleepy palm on a mismatched dial, and now
the radio sings, fractured paper voices warbling
over unsteady guitars, soft and sticky in clogged
eardrums.  10:28, and the rectangular grids of the
ending numeral shifting, one side blinking away, 9,
and then the tens...

the sad yellow light flickers over the scale
and the numbers say she will never be enough
or, rather, she is too much

the sun admires his bulging muscles,
and the scrawny boy in the shade
is the one who is not enough

the other girls whisper
the boys snicker
and she buys sports bras in vain
too much

the boys laugh
and the girls tease
when she buys the
pink push up padded one
not enough

next time you hear ...

As some of you may know, a while ago, Big Blue created a WtW discord. She is no longer on the discord OR WtW, but the discord is still alive. Here's the link!
https://discord.gg/ysTMd4

We would appreciate new members! However, please do not invite anyone outside of WtW! We don't want any random strangers! When you accept the invite, please read the rules first thing! Then, it would be best to introduce yourself in #introductions! After that, you're all set!
...

Steven Lakeman looked at the ripped guillotine in his hands and felt relaxed.
He walked over to the window and reflected on his hilly surroundings. He had always loved noisy Oxford with its clumsy, concerned cliffs. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel relaxed.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Chris MacDonald. Chris was a deranged teacher with grubby warts and ample feet.
Steven gulped. He...

“Arrgg!!!!”
Erin let out a yell as she twisted in the air and swung her heel at her opponent’s face. She caught him in the jaw, and he flew across the ring. She landed on her feet, and stood ready as he wiped the blood off of his lip and stared at it for a moment. He looked back up at her.
   “You’re progressing, but you lack the fire!”
Erin snarled and leapt at him again, hitting him...