Baraka showed us nature to busy cities to poor country's and this gives me the understanding that not everywhere in the world is the same and perfect. Someplace people have busy lives and totally forget about the rest of the world. And in other people are trying to survive, some waiting and some not waiting for the rest of the world to help them. Some people suffered because of another persons 'power' because they believe one thing and stuff up...

The feeling that makes your heart pump
Makes your body tingle
Makes you want them
Love can get you in its trance
It can make you fill with joy
Or it can break your heart
It can resolve conflict
Or start a war.
But even if you didn’t know
You already have someone to love
Someone from your family
But loving someone else
Can leave you forgetting the one you love the most

For Valentine’s day

I gazed at the humans as their eyes came upon me. Some of their eyes filled with interest, while others filled with boredom. I stayed still as the eyes creepily matched mine. Could they sense the life inside of me? I wanted to move but i couldn’t budge. My body was pressed against my twin brother’s. I tried to wriggle my tail, even my snout. But it wasn’t possible. I felt my heart sink in my chest. I felt air...

For my entire childhood (ages 5 to 15), my best friend was a girl named Samantha. We were thick as thieves, playing jokes on our parents, telling scary stories in the dark, and talking about crushes. We were bosom buddies, and I thought we’d be that way forever. 

Sam and I met in Grade 1. I had just transferred to her school, and was terrified. This was the first time in my life I was vulnerable, and out of my...

Sticks and stones may break your bones, but words can hurt you too. In my primary school, in Year 3 & 4, I was taunted and teased by a kid younger than me. His name was Harsha, which I always thought was ironic, as he was harsher than anyone else. 

Every day he would call me names, ones that rhymed with my name. I'm not saying them, for two reasons. One, for anonymity, and two, because they're moderately rude. 

He...

Sticks and stones may break your bones, but words can hurt you too. In my primary school, in Year 3 & 4, I was taunted and teased by a kid younger than me. His name was Harsha, which I always thought was ironic, as he was harsher than anyone else. 

Every day he would call me names, ones that rhymed with my name. I'm not saying them, for two reasons. One, for anonymity, and two, because they're moderately rude. 

He...

Six. Six years old to be exact. This was when the chains were latched. Every night, the monster would walk through the door and climb into my bed. Waiting to see if I was asleep, or merely hoping for his leave. Then coldness reaches my lower half, seconds follow, and i'm numb. The monster leaves the room and I cry myself to sleep. The next morning I climb out of bed and thank god for school. The monster takes me...

I belong to the mountains, 
And the mountains belong to me. 

The mountains soaring to the sky,
Fourteen thousand feet above the sea.

Where the wind whispers secrets
To the lodgepole pines;

Where the sweet scent of ponderosa bark
Hangs heavy in the sun-filled air;

Where the shadows of the clouds
Drift from the meadow to the mountain side;

Where the tiny world of the tundra
Lies between the snowy peaks;

Where the winding silver steams 
Flow dreamily across the...

  Broken. That's the most valid way I could think to describe most of my relationships with anyone. Every single one of my ties with anyone is broken in some sort of way, smashed to pieces with a hammer then desperately forced back together in a painful amalgamation of what once was. There are shards to tip-toe around and cracks to leap over. Raging winds shove me back the farther I try to expand the relationship. But every time I pass...

her eyes are a pale blue
a kaleidoscope of colors
you can see right through them

she smiles on the outside
but her heart says different

they say a person's eyes can contain a thousand stories
what's her story?

    Cancer ruins a lot of things. Whenever you think about childhood cancer, you think about toddlers and young kids in the hospital, who are fighting to survive and who still have that innocent glow, despite the struggle. That wasn't me. You never picture the older kids. The teenagers, dealing with middle school, sports, homework, relationships...cancer. My teenage cancer led to my depression, which led to my inability to know how to interact with other people. Life dealt me...

The first time I learned to whistle,
I was crying 
tears streaking down my face
dripping
onto my mom's new car
each one reminding me 
that I promised I wouldn't cry

The first time I learned to whistle
The noise pierced through 
the small car
a soft bittersweet sound
like dark chocolate 
Melting on my tongue

The first time I learned to whistle
I did it again
and again
not only a fruitless call
for my old life
but also...

I tried. I was always the good kid, I raised my hand, never interrupted, I was a good kid. I sat in the front of the room because you always learned better up there. I always did my homework the night it was assigned. I didn’t go to parties or drinking. I didn't have any friends, it was just me. Mom didn't pay close attention to me and Dad left when I was little. So, I just stayed being the...

Happiness is when your cat’s furry forehead rubs against your own in greeting.

Happiness is a brand new book, thick with creamy pages.

Saturday morning, Miss Alice Witchka walked into the Brewing Diner on the corner of 43rd Street.
“Good mornin’ William,” she yelled across the room as she hung up her hat.
“Mornin’ Alice.”
“Say, you seen the paper this morning?”
William stood behind the counter serving plain old black coffee to a customer who was doing a word puzzle in the said paper.
“No, haven’t had the time. This mornin’s been real busy. But I gotta stack right here. Anythin’ worth...

Happiness is a brand new book, thick with creamy pages.

 I knocked on the door of the small one room apartment, for the door opened and there stood my beautiful best friend. "Hey Beautiful" I said as I walked into the apartment. She looked really nervous and avoided eye contact so I asked asked what was up. "What's wrong Journey?" I looked at her and a blush crept across her face. "I-I well, I love you Kota." I looked at her and her face was now a deep ton of...

    Our last conversation was an email. I remember it clearly--I relaxed in my bed, enjoying my first Tuesday of summer vacation, looking forward to Wednesday's trip to New York City. Seemingly, judging by my expression and generally upbeat attitude, everything was fine.
    When I consider the human race, I see an infinite ocean, on which all of us are floating, drifting on wooden rafts. We, all of us, are tied by ropes, some long, some short,...

i was born on the day that the stars fell, made the earth tremble, then returned to their rightful places in the sky. my mother believed that made me special. she said that asteria picked me for something greater. 

my early life was extraordinary, but not in a godly sort of way. my family was overwhelming rich and i wore that wealth around my neck. i owned an abundance of necklaces made of rubies, sapphires and other extravagant jewels. i...

chubby fingers grip
snap dragon petals
and drop them into the
forever traveling river.
and the child grins,
white teeth shining
like plouto's treasures.
i found her weeks ago,
as she prayed to us,
her words
powerful and true,
more like a hymn
than spoken words.
it’s rare to find someone 
who sincerely believes.
i want to greet the girl
and show her the wonders
of olympus because surely
she'll appreciate it more
than us immortal beings
who spend eternity
surrounded...

    "Aren't you Black?"
    
    The girl that stood in front of me raised her eyebrows and shook her head a bit, as if she was disappointed with me.

    "Yes...?" My mouth was full and my words came out weirdly. 

    She didn't say anything more and walked away, leaving me and my watermelon alone. 

    It's safe to assume that everyone has or will be the victim of stereotyping. Whether that be based...

Dear Ex-Best Friend,

I still remember the first time I saw you. You were in my language arts class in 6th grade. I was a quiet, mouse of a girl back then. You were too. I didn't have any friends in that class, so I sat alone reading. You sat quietly in your seat. We didn't talk.

By seventh grade, our friend groups collided, and we had language arts and advisory together. Every day, we would talk about books or...

bird
takes to the heavens

like a flare
against
blue skies

red 
orange
golden

wings expand
like a ship’s sails
fire erupts
on the skyline

single molten feather
brushes against mortal cheek
singes
and burns

so beautiful
the fiery glow
emanating

so deadly
the hot flames
that rise from silhouetted figure
clawing up
to the velvet sky

as I burn
and burn
flames burning
my every orifice

as the firebird
takes flight.

    Hey guys! So I've been doing a lot of contests lately, and with that thinking about what kind of prompts it might be fun to write for (in my humble opinion), and therefore I decided to host my own with some of those prompts.
    Probably no one is going to enter this (or even see this; if you're reading this now leave a comment for a metaphorical gold star (a like on one of your pieces)). I'll honestly...