Posts
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Grow Up
When I come home from school
and my parents ask how my day was
my answer is almost always
"Irritating"
or
"Bad"
or
"A pain in the butt".
Why?
Because my classmates will
scream
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Ode to Bread
Nothing with flour
no bread
replaced with
matzo meal
potato starch
eggs that are the cost of two books
all of my life necessities in food
gone
replaced with
hard,
crunchy,
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Poem from when I was 9
I have very mixed feelings about this poem, which I wrote when I was 9. Please enjoy, or at least humor yourself when Little Me rhymed "need" with "feed"! - Calico Frost
Animals and Equal
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I am tired
I am tired.
I want to write a poem
but I am too tired
and I don't quite have the
energy
to write something with quality
or actually
sounds good
so I am waiting for my
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Identity Crisis
How am I supposed to know
what love is like
when I'm questioning love itself
when I'm questioning me
the world
this point in time that has
rubbed the fear
frustration
anxiety
into my skin
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Poems from Third Grade
Usually my poetry
sucks
and it will often be horrible
but that may just be my poems from
3rd grade
where we were learning online
and no one had any secrets in their family.
Loves
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Mixed— chapter six: The bugs curse
But Seraphina’s golden eyes never left me.
I collapsed face-first onto my bunk, groaning into the thin pillow. “Well,” I mumbled, my voice muffled by the fabric, “that went great.”
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Mixed—Chapter four: The spell
My Luminor throbbed in my pocket, restless, flickering colors no one should see.
The laughter and murmurs swelled until the doors at the end of the hall creaked open.
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Mixed—chapter three: Enemies made
Her red eyes flicked toward Seraphina. “She saw it. When your stone shifted.”
My pulse quickened. I wanted to deny it, but Juniper’s gaze was steady.
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Mixed—Chapter two: Purple stone?
I grabbed my uniform jacket and stepped outside into the crisp morning air. The campus footpath was empty. Too empty.
A stone whistled through the air toward my head.
“Extravaganzis!” I snapped.
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Mixed—chapter one: the bug
I woke up, my feet brushing against the carpet as I pushed out of bed. Beside my uniform, my Luminor glowed a steady green, brightening as I shook off sleep.
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A Farther Flight
One day I hope to leave
this world encapsulated by a wall far too high for my eyes
to reach.
Looking up is an exercise
that twists my heart in the process
because when did movements