Posts
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Keep going
It's hard being back
no, it's worse than hard
impossible
to be around them
to be surrounded by people who hate you for finding yourself
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Character Connections
Prompt for 2025-26 challenges:
Character connections: In poetry or prose, write about a connection - whether positive, negative, or neutral - between two characters or yourself and a character.
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Drowning in the unknown
I am tormented by slight movements
even silence is hurting me
reality seems to be strobing
or something like it -
I've yet to learn how to explain these moments to others,
even myself.
It's not normal,
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Anticipation
This is the worst kind of anticipation
this anticipation isn't just fear of what is to come
it's laced around the edges with knowledge of how it went last time
of how a repeat of last year is most likely inevitable.
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Dear Musketeers,
You two have entered my life at different times
yet you both mean the world to me
I dread separation -
the battle between boredom and loneliness cancels out everything else and I miss your everyday comments on the world
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Shadow
You know what?
You were right
this sucks
school is crap
there's no point in trying in fields where you're not welcome.
I can't back out of this mess
Loves
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Those Who Love Life
(YWP Editor's Note: Congratulations to Csquared! This poem is the November 2025 winner of The Tomorrow Project's monthly awards!
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Mixed—chapter eight: The Hidden Ink
I unfolded the fragile page, Kael leaning close as the lantern light caught the writing. My mother’s hand—sharp, deliberate strokes—spread across the paper. I swallowed hard and began to read aloud:
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Mixed— chapter seven: The Truth
Kael paced the length of the dorm, muttering to himself. “No, no, no, this is bad—this is worse than bad. Purple blood? Orange Luminor? This isn’t random, Ryder. This is connected.”
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Molly's Fruit Bowl
Deft
Finicky
Supercilious
Pulchritudinous
Cassock
Dianthus
Diffident
Omnipotent
Ebullient
Jaunty
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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.”