Written on Oct, 09, 2017
by ZiyanaK
White is a beautiful colour. White is a quiet and peaceful expression of childhood – it is pure, innocent, virtuous. White exists as a perfect combination of every colour in the spectrum – it is equal, perfect, whole. White is angelic in…
Written on Jun, 24, 2017
by ZiyanaK
Even when I bathe in rosewater and wear dewdrops like a string of pearls I will never be able to make myself clean enough or pretty enough to sleep in between my bedsheets. *** It’s ironic hat I was always made fun of…
Written on May, 13, 2017
by ZiyanaK
ROSEMARY: A young, fairy-tale loving girl who was raised by a gentle and attentive mother (MARIANNE). She is initially bright and hopeful, but as she grows older and more beautiful, she becomes the object of her mother’s jealousy. Thus her relationship with MARIANNE…
Written on Nov, 10, 2016
by ZiyanaK
She held her breath in a room full of air. She was determined to prove she could control her body, because she was afraid to be a slave to the flesh and bone construct that was created to contain the core of her…
Written on Mar, 17, 2016
by ZiyanaK
Dear Human, My eyes, once bright like shiny new pennies, aglow with the promise of laughter and playtime, have dulled in the wake of dust and forgotten memories binding my wavering faith like manacles, pinning me- helpless- to your shelf. Unable…
Written on Feb, 16, 2016
by ZiyanaK
As if slowly pulled upright by the eerie beckons of marionette strings at the hands of a puppet master, I was dragged from dark, fitful sleep into the realm of consciousness. It was as if I had just walked through a sheet of…
Written on Jan, 26, 2016
by ZiyanaK
When you open your eyes after a vivid dream, despite its vibrant nature, the details begin to fade from your memory faster than water slides through the cracks of cupped hands. This is how it feels to die. Her life was…
Written on Jan, 10, 2016
by ZiyanaK
“Into this lonely room so satin and cold Silent eyes are staring Voices calling me to be free…” – REO Speedwagon, Dead At Last Brently Mallard’s fingertips were colder than his wife’s, even though hers had been bloodless for a week. The…
Written on Oct, 02, 2015
by ZiyanaK
I am the ocean. I am calm and steady, though cool and distant towards those who pry into my life and swim in my waters without any knowledge of who I am. My personality in itself is a contradiction; I am of fierceness,…
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