Aug 31

Little She

Going to get her, picking her up.
Car ride home telling us everything she's been up to.
When we get home,
Visiting the animals.
"Come on G, let's play!"
I go play with her.
Dolls and dresses,
Cars and cats.
Whatever she wants I'll do it.
We go for walks, 
This little she and I,
And we talk about when she gets older, and how she wishes we were sisters,
And all the other things she likes to talk about.
"Can I stay another night?"
Mommy wants you home.
And so she goes, 
Taken away from me agian.
It's so quiet with out her little voice,
Calling me.
It's so sad without her little stuff piles in my room.
At night I hear her voice,
I miss her,
That little she.
Aug 23
PDXmarvel's picture

2017 yearbook Pages 245,89

[names have been changed for discretion]

Kormann,Elias pages 245,89  2017 Yearbook

Elias kormann is an emotion. a bad pit in my stomach from a year or two back. The drug i was-am- addicted too. when in a dark place, he indulged that darkness for me. that little broken piece of me blossomed for him in second period maths.

he made me uncomfortable, that i went back just to feel that way. he scared me and i flinched. but i wanted him to do it again. it made me feel small. afraid. vulnerable. that was what i was high on.

i wanted to kiss him. if not to kiss, than to feel like sh*t after. I wanted him to slide his hand around my waist, just to tell myself i didn't like it. I wanted to stair into his eyes just to feel my stomach twist. he was my denial. the cliff i was standing on the edge of. the final step i couldn't take.

he was 

the bad thing i craved
the one thing i could feel
Aug 20


today marks a month. 

a month without any sign of life from you. i know. we only knew each other a week. but the subject line of our emails, long past, was always a promise. a promise that you wouldn't disappear like you seem to have. 
what happened? 

your last message was full of that humor and passion that excited me so- i was sure it would be recurring. what's keeping you away? 

two months since i saw your face. since i saw you pull that one-eyed-squint-while-nodding deal that i've felt myself do many times, before and after we met. 

now i can't remember if you're real. i need your advice. i need to sit with you and eat cake, and edit quietly and make eye contact that would be disturbing to anyone else. please. 
Aug 14
Lynnez's picture


At 3:00 am there was the phone call. Everyone knows when a phone rings in the middle of the night, something is wrong. It’s honestly one of those things you never expect. My grandfather loved to fish. He was like most men who told the stories of the ever-growing bass he caught. The water makes me think of him, streams, ponds, rivers. We would throw a line in anywhere, and even caught a baby catfish from a bridge once. His hugs were the best. . . I watch as my feet dangle above the fish who are most likely apologizing. Perhaps they are cheering because they won’t get eaten by us anymore- my grandfather loved jokes. He could go on all night telling funny tales, or pranking people. He smelled of fire wood, and dirt from his worms. It’s been almost three years now, and his laughter would be so much better than this silence. Even though he loved the sound of crickets when the sun is setting. Looking up into the pink orange hue, I wonder if he saw my graduation a few weeks ago?
Aug 12

How to Write a Speech?

maybe we should have another ywp category - questions. this is gonna be in non-fiction for now.

So maybe some of you saw my post a few weeks ago about 'Why is it important to know how to write a story' for my AP Lit/Lang class. 

I wanted to start writing it soon, with class less than a month away (I'm a big procrastinator, I know.)

I have my topic - How to Write a Story.

I think it's important to know how to write them because 'you can pretend to be someone else' - Shannon Turlington (x). Also, for the development of imagination and how the Aboriginals used story to know where they were going (x). If you guys have other points to help me here, that would be great.

I'm also citing interviews that elizamm and aesythe did for me. thank you two so much!
Aug 10

Random Question that is listed under non-fiction because I don't know what else to put it as

I'm curious: If you had a time machine, what are four things you would do?
Here are mine:
1: Go to the Beatles' first performance at the Cavern Club.
2: Go to a Led Zeppelin concert- any Led Zeppelin concert, it really doesn't matter.
3: Go to a Queen concert
4: Go to a David Bowie concert- specifically, his last performance as his alter-ego Ziggy Stardust. 

As you can probably tell, I'm a fan of classic rock.   
Aug 08
Larrylovscats's picture

wondering and remembering

when I see a new friend, I wonder how long I will know them for. I wonder if I will remember them. if their smiles will be in my mind and their laughter will echo in my ears. if I will look back at the times when we splashed in the river. in the lake. in the pool. water droplets flying. if I will look back and see the sleepovers we had. giggling. hiding. laughing. if I will remember the secrets we kept. crushes. jealously, hatred. and those whispers in ears about each other. if I will remember the long stories we told around a big fire, marshmallows, and chocolate plastered onto our faces. if I will remember the eye rolls and looks of demise and plotting we exchanged about the most horrid teachers, and how we could defeat them. if I will remember the whispers about the latest fashions, and if the newest clothing trend looked nice on us. if I will remember our last fight. the crying. the sobbing.
Aug 07
abbiemm19's picture

Silent Keys

Jul 31

A Prisoner of my Mind.

     Once upon a time, I lost my grip on reality. I spent years with my head in the clouds, dreaming of a life I could not have. I fell in love with people I'd never met, became attached to places I'd never been. I waited for the impossible to happen- for those dreams to become a reality.
     One day I realized I would be waiting forever. What had started off as daydreams became so real to me, and I wondered every day when my "real" life would start. I accepted that if this continued I would live a dismal, unfulfilled, life, unable to become attached to anyone or really live. I couldn't go on like this. 
Jul 31

Tiny Highlights

Editor's Note: Here are some of the highlighted Tiny Writes published on the front page in recent weeks. Enjoy:

I love the way you have no idea how much I love you.
Rubber Soul

Writing prompt (I honestly have no idea where this would lead but I thought of it in science class and thought it was funny in a situational way): aliens arrive in our solar system. For one reason or another, they mistake Mars for the planet containing life... and the Mars Rovers for the species native to Mars.
- Fiona Ella

If we are all equal, why do some languages have multiple ways of addressing people? shouldn't everyone be treated as a friend AND with respect?
- dogpoet

I Rise Up.
But no one is there to see me.
So why rise up at all?
I Rise Up.
For Me.
Jul 28

My family

Little people running around me in a whirl-wind of song.
Listening to music,
Watching videos.
Friendly meals by the fire.
Dogs barking,
People chatting,
Hugs exchanging,
This is my family.
Jul 27

Angry at Myself

When I'm afraid that I will get angry at myself for something,
I avoid it.

You see,
I don't like being angry at myself
So when I am angry at myself
About something I haven't done yet
Or am not doing,

I do other things.

A crossword puzzle
Eat some food
Check my email
Reread the instructions for the forms I should be filling out
Watch Netflix

Because I hate being angry at myself
For things I know I should have done
Or should be doing
In the sense of
Things I quite truly, really ought to be doing
Not just those "should"s that we feel pressure from despite their lack of reasonable source.
They're the should's like writing letters to my grandparents
Cleaning my room
Merely logging on to YWP
Starting college placement exams
Clearing my dishes from dinner
Responding to that text from last week.
Jul 26
GabriellaF's picture

The Sweater

My best friend always wears an old puma sweatshirt; it is black with the word puma written in white. She got the sweater from her sister. It has a couple of stains just like anything else that you have owned for a while. It has one stain from art class that is of paint. Another is of chocolate from her birthday, and last is from a highlighter when she dropped it on herself. This sweater has a lot of memories and is well loved by its owner.
Jul 21

A Comment A Day Keeps Writer's Block Away

​(Sorry this is a day late, I've been a bit busy recently, (yesterday was my birthaday) and didn't have the time/energy/remember to post this till now)
Jul 18

Moth Story

This is a little story I wrote for a class that I had to tell a Moth Story in, so here it is.


It’s kind of funny when you think about it.

The fact that this one little word has so much emotion packed into it,

And not the good kind either.

It was November of last year, I came into work at the usual 4:35 for my 5:00 shift, but something seemed different about today.

I was startled to see a boy, around my age, that I’ve never seen before, sitting in the chair we use to take breaks.

I froze immediately, then tried to back up slowly so I wouldn’t have to actually talk to this boy, but he looked up and I was caught.

We took our time analyzing each other; he had curly brown hair, bushy eyebrows, and was dressed like he definitely wasn’t working at Journeys: with grey Toms, black jeans, and a white button up.
Jul 17

Three-Day Fling

I felt something
 I had only felt

Sadness coursed
 through my veins
 making itself known.

 My friend's eyes
 welled with tears,
 her face swollen
 and red.

My other friend was turned away,
 trying not to look at her again.
She's going away again.
 She was only visiting.

 She tells me, "Why did it have to be him,
and not someone from back home?"
I look back to my friend, walking away.

He's going back to his house,
to get ready for soccer,
to get ready to forget this three-day fling.

Yesterday didn't even count,
the pool wasn't open.
Lightning ran the sky,
thunder shaking the earth.

Her and him knew today was lost.
And now, I cry for both of them
victims of love separated by states.

It didn't feel like a fling to them.

Flings don't call out
Jul 17

Song Decoder

We usually appreciate music for it’s rhythm, melody, or beat. However, most writers (and others) would agree that the best music also has capturing, complex, even symbolic lyrics. Similar to literature, these lyrics are interpreted differently by every listener.

What do you hear? Take the lyrics from a favorite song (or any song) and write a poetic or prose  translation. What do these lyrics mean to you? Do you draw from personal experiences in your appreciation of them? What mental images do the lyrics invoke? How does the instrumental portion of the song influence your interpretation of the lyrics?

Remember to list the song title, album, if applicable, and credit the artist. 
Jul 16

Behind the Title

Titles are important - they should catch a reader’s interest, introduce the piece, and describe it in just a few words. Therefore, the process for deciding on a title can be complex. 

Tell us your process. Pick a title from one of your pieces, and tell us about it in a poem or story. What do you associate with this title? How does it relate to the piece it introduces? Is there a separate story about the title itself?
Jul 16
Larrylovscats's picture

just love

sometimes, there are those friends that aren't there for you anymore. they leave you lost and alone, and let the darkness take over them. they know your doubts and fears and use them against you, and there is nothing you can do about it except for watch. wait. until the time comes when you need to say goodbye, and move on. forget the fact that they are never coming back, and remember the fact that there are other people that will soon step into your life, and be a good friend forever. no darkness. no hate. no fear. nothing hiding from you in dark shadows. nothing waiting for the moment to expose your fears and secrets to the world. no hate. just love.
Jul 10

Why should people know how to write a story?

I don't what to file this under, but I have a summer project I need to do for my AP Lang class. I'm supposed to deliver a 5 minute speech on something I think people need to know, and being the writer I am, I chose "How to Write a Story."
I'm supposed to conduct research, maybe give interviews, etc. to get opinions, facts, and real people's words. I'm in the middle of doing a rough draft, and should it go well, I want to record my whole speech and maybe post it here, as well as the speech and the powerpoint I'd deliver.
I was already going to use this site as a place where my classmates could write, but I could probably credit it should I get information from here.
In your words, why should people know how to write a story? What use does it have for everyday life? How can it help someone in their career?
Possibly, could I interview you? Via Skype, email, discord, etc? I could blur out your name, change it, etc. to preserve your anonymity.