I am intelligent. I haven’t always known this. So many of my early memories are filled with the adults in my life gaping down at me before letting out hearty guffaws and exclaiming to my book-loving-never-baby-talking parents about the extent of my vocabulary, as if they hadn’t noticed.

So many of my elementary school years were filled with teachers wracking their brains because when I asked ‘why...

Used and twisted, poked and prod Loved and nurtured, long forgot. Raised by eyes, cold like ice I have learned how not to cry.

Be the fear Be the storm Be what we made you become.

Be the wave crashing on towns, Be the chaos all around.

They say I work in their command That I’m a weapon in their hand.

But if they make me a weapon and tell me to control myself, Am I still their weapon?...

Sparks.

Everyone has some kind of spark in their eyes.

It may be a mischievous spark or a spark of constant hatred or perhaps just a soft shimmer that shows you they are still human and still very much alive.

Some peoples sparks are excited, or kind, or scared, or scary. It doesn’t matter what that person’s spark tells you about them because it’s always changing. One day their spark dances and ...

Our heads bobbed to the lyrics of the song. Some threw back shots of liquor. Others posted on the wall scheming the room. Everyone began to belt the lyrics of the hook in unison. BOOM. BOOM. The gunshots bellowed a command to drop. Though confused no one waited to understand. My ears rang as bullets sped past us penetrating any matter. In this moment we realized how fragile these bodies were. How ...

The prophets wash their eyes in the river. The King hath ordered them for dinner. Last thing they see is the young boy pissing upstream. Such hard times on a sightless seer!

The paupers serve the King his meal. The eyes are dry, but they taste surreal! The prophets all plead to make a deal. The King smiling kindly says,”Visions aren’t real.”

The King, he cries as he tastes their sights. ...

I got a advice a while ago on a poem of mine I asked for feedback, and they gave it to me; They told me to get away from the rhyming scheme. So with this advice in mind, I write this poem Of course I’ll still add a rhyme or two; Just to make it fun for you, But I’m not Dr. Seuss. I’m simply just someone who likes to write Who now just realized It’s bad to rhyme too many times....

“Wait, time travel are you talking about real life time travel?” Miller said, jumping up from his seat. “Dr. Gunter, calm down and please calm down and listen.” Dr. Sanjay Chen spoke in a soothing voice. “I know this is disconcerting. This is not how we typically like to involve our partners in our conversations but time is …shall we say of the essence.” Miller Gunter paced around his living room ...

The dust billowed across the top of the cardboard garrison of the attic as the hatch swung open, collecting in the air like powdered memories swirling above the countless family artifacts before settling back to cover them again. Quinn pulled herself up the top rung of the ladder and through the opening, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dim light coming through the slated openings in the half cl...

(c) copyright 2023 Anastasia Raymond

𝙴𝚇𝚃. - 𝙻𝙾𝚂 𝙰𝙽𝙶𝙴𝙻𝙴𝚂, 𝙲𝙰 - 𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 𝙴𝚇𝚃. - 𝙱𝙰𝙻𝙳𝚆𝙸𝙽 𝙷𝙸𝙻𝙻𝚂 𝚂𝙲𝙴𝙽𝙸𝙲 𝙾𝚅𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙾𝙾𝙺 𝙼𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚃𝙰𝙸𝙽 - 𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃

𝙽𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚎, 𝟸𝟸 𝚜𝚑𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚗, 𝟸𝟺 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚌 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚝𝚘𝚙. �...

I was sitting in the principals office with John H. He was making fun of me, so I snapped back, something along the lines of his big fat nose. He punched me so I punched back and now we’re here. He was rambling on about how I was so mean to insult him and blah blah blah. I knew everything was gonna be okay, he would get in trouble and I wouldn’t cause he was wrong. The principle asked for my story...