I part my mouth

in the shape of a crescent moon

when they say I look beautiful in

starlight

They make delicious noises

and stare at me like I’m a blistering sun

I believe myself: a star

It’s vanity, darling

and I have

no shame.

But of course,

there are the critics.

They wouldn’t know it,

neither would you,

but you bruise my ego, dear

every time you forget to ( Read more... )

The Will of Color

It was never simple before then. Every line of the world intertwined with each other, a never-ending web upon the wrinkled surface. Beautiful, yes, but it was chaos with man burning the web into ashes. The humans tried to save the world. Oh, how they tried. But eventually it became too expensive to keep the plants ( Read more... )

Begin-then again, because it couldn’t start like that. But how much longer until he reached the end ( Read more... )

Lilapsophobia

A metaphor for the physical and emotional turmoil that come in an abusive relationship.

XX

I’ve grown longer than these lines, and heavier than these words. I loved the lull before the storm, the silence before the scream, the calmness in the waves of the ocean as you twirled in the distance, steadily, steadily, as if the world had ( Read more... )

where the sun won't shine
in the dawn there are dewdrops
mirrors of the heart

He was watching her

(somewhere)

and she could feel his eyes boring into the back of her neck. Unconsciously, she wiped the sweat off her brow, avoiding rustling the hedge. She could feel her heart pounding

(thundering booming lightning striking and spiking her brain)

vigorously in her chest, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she tried to see ( Read more... )

( Read more... )

My mother left my life when I was the ripe age of seven. The last thing I remember of her in our house is her strawberry blonde hair, wrapped in an ugly cloth, as she flew out the door and into the world outside that I knew nothing of except for the loudness of the mobs and riots. My father cried, as did my brother. But I just sat for a while and ( Read more... )

Their blood had always gotten in the way of any connection between them. It would have been lovely, Rose thought, to have been together. Both of them were the envy of the school; good looks, incredible grades, and many friends. It was hard for Rose not to notice Scorpius whenever she saw him. The way his scent wafted in the air when he walked by, ( Read more... )

XX

He was a dog with very little to say. He had been born in a soggy box of cardboard on a rainy spring afternoon. His mother, what little he remembered of her, had left him for dead after her muzzle had first caressed his wet fur. He was the runt of the litter, and he called himself Jack.

He was a man with words of wisdom ( Read more... )