I’m back to my former life, the one before you came. Only one month has passed since our last encounter and yet it feels like a lifetime. You pulled me into your waters, like a deadly wave sucking me in. And now…half drowned from your toxic waters, I find myself replaying scenes in my mind as a way to console myself of our separation ( Read more... )

Four years ago I read the novel, Blood and Chocolate, that narrated the story of an impossible love with a girl who was a werewolf and a mortal. Despite the fact that the book was more geared towards an adolescent audience in terms of writing style and word choice, but I still found it completely captivating ( Read more... )

With newly gained eyesight I can see the beauty that surrounds me. Yellow daisies, bright petals caressing my feet as I run over the fragile flora.

Wind slapping across my face, I inhale the fragrant air, and I feel oddly alive. He pulls me down upon the ground, as though he likes to see me fall (literally) for him.

“Do you still love that fag ( Read more... )

Paris ( Read more... )

Masked in our new identities we felt like we could be free. We could break away from the mold that we’re constrained to fulfill because of our obligations ( Read more... )

Yo! Taken from
( Read more... )

Sunken shadows devour our existence. He held onto me like a lover, only knowing that everything has changed. His eyes held that distraught gaze so typical of him. That familiar glance that he only reserves for me. As though he dies a little everytime he sees me ( Read more... )

You’re drawing little daggers, probably ready to plunge them into my heart. Your glares and cold indifference put me on the defensive side. Why must you be so full of pride? You’re too young to think yourself a genius. And you’re too inexperienced to do everything on your own ( Read more... )

The rain came unexpected, catching me by surprise. With an armful of books and papers for the next day’s lesson I couldn’t even hold an umbrella, if I had one. But I didn’t I have one. And then you appeared, my gallant knight ( Read more... )

A writer’s job is this: life becomes a vortex of lies. Embellishing is at the center of everything. From a physical point of view a writer’s life is fundamentally static and to fight against this condition its necessary to create on a daily basis an alternative world, an alter ego. - Bret Easton Ellis ( Read more... )