Magic Notions ~ Feels like a Dream I walked in my room, which was mostly packed up, only to find that Ashley was already taking over. "Excuse me, this is my room for two more days…" I said pushing Ashley's stuff back into the hallway, "You can wait two days, I'll be gone soon enough." Apparently they had decided they were going to renew the lease on their own, or perhaps they were just going to stay in the appartment until they got evicted. Either way, I was just happy that the lease was up and I was able to leave. Paying half the rent when there were five other people in the house was just ridiculous.
She didn't give me much of a response, though she began to shove her things back into her overloaded room. I decided it was time to make use of the deadbolt that had been installed on my door for one reason or another. I never used it before her family came, then I only locked it when I went to sleep, but now it seemed that I had to use it in the middle of the day which was ki
Silvyss' Journey, chapter 1Darkness; what an unpleasant thing to wake up to. He blinked a few times to be sure that his eyes were open. He even rubbed his eyes and found them to be wide open, and yet, he couldn’t even see the hands which he used. The air was… surprisingly dull. No heat, no cold. Nothing. He took a step forward, but found no ground underneath his feet. His heart jumped and he slung his hands around, trying to find something solid to grip on to. Was he standing up? Lying down? He couldn’t find solid ground no matter where he flailed his arms and legs. What was this place? It was unpleasantly silent, his quick and fearful breath being the only thing he could hear. The frightened thumping of his heart sent blood rushing through his stiff, nervous body. His lips jittered in confusion and fear.Silvyss' Journey, chapter 12 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
“H--hello?” He muttered lowly, his gentle voice disappearing somewhere into the dark depths.
He felt like he was floating mid-air, but not falling. His clothes were… gone.
Cry of an ArtistThey tell me I’ll understandCry of an Artist2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
when I’m older.
That I shouldn’t be an artist.
I want to be those crumpled papers
in the corner of my room,
and the late nights I stayed awake
blinking at the moon.
And even though I lack the supplies
and ideas are far away,
I feel artistic blood
running through my veins.
I’m that empty spray can
left in the shadows of the walls
where street art’s been made
but the name’s not there at all.
And I’m that lonely artist
who fears of sticking out
because all the art critics
feel the urge to not speak, but shout.
And I’m that girl standing by the window,
wanting those paints and brushes,
pencils and pens,
and the city that hushes
when my art makes its
The FallTonight, I watched the stars cry.The Fall2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I lay on my back, trying to push out everything but the feeling of her hand in mine. Hers was smaller, more delicate, and I feared that if I so much as held it too tightly, it would break. Yet at the same time, I didn’t want to let that hand go, with every fibre of my being I clung to that hand as if letting go would mean slipping into the abyss. In many ways, it did.
I turned to look at her face, illuminated by the soft light of the moon. It was just like I remembered it always was, full of a beauty that she could never see. But I could see it, vividly, and I could never understand why she didn’t see it too. Maybe she did, only she couldn’t ever believe it. That was one of my few regrets; that I wasn’t able to understand why.
Why. Yes, it is a small word isn’t it. Small and innocent, you would say, wouldn’t you? It was, once upon a time. But a very lo
How I SpeakPoetry is how I speak.How I Speak2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
My communication is weak.
Sorry if I don't talk back.
Social skills I do lack.
No understanding of what to say.
Dealing with it everyday.
So when I just say nothing,
It doesn't mean anything.
What to say I'm not sure.
My short responses do bore.
Only understood when I write.
A difference of day and night.
Take this as my apology.
It's not you. It really is me.
Airless"Airless"Airless3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Chapter Zero: "Young Observations"
The landscape confused me at times. My reasons for such misunderstandings made little sense to me until I reached adulthood, and even now, I’ve wondered about my birth within the corrupted society. Our homes were built sparingly of a single wood with so few nails that it often lead to the failure of an entire structure. Several homes collapsed within recent times on my very street yet my family viewed these instances so normally.
My father’s occupation provided me and my small family a bit more nails for our home and maybe a bit more food on the table. His wisdom earned him a seat among the Village’s Council, though he often complained about the fore coming decisions. My mother argued with him about his beliefs and morals surrounding these results, but they typically ended their predicaments agreeing to disagree and dropped the subject.
The serpent streets, serving as both paths and front yards, wound through the poorer qua