Remember the moon survives, draws herself out crescent-thin, a curved woman. Untouchable, she bends around the shadow that pushes himself against her, and she waits. Remember how you waited when the nights bled their darkness out like ink, to blacken the days…
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Vanity controls all. Some are ashamed of being less than perfect, and their vanity compels them to hide within the dark. Some are proud of being ideally beautiful, and their vanity compels them to appear before the light. But all are controlled by…
I have four fatal flaws; four which I must embrace; four which I must accept; four which I must experience my life through. I have four fatal flaws; four which I must apologise for; four which I must shed for better attributes; four…
My sea is layered and lively, a collection of every part of me and unrestrained in the candor of its being. My sea is me. Their sea is surface and simple, a fraction of the truth and limited to what they are able…
My sky was meant to be painted in the raw spectrum of the rainbow, where every color jumped in vibrant exclamations of wanting to be great. Every hue in my sky was meant to be lurid and glaring, flaming in its brilliance, thriving…
She is happy. But sometimes, she has days when she is a disaster. There is a storm of chaos who takes the form of a human woman. Her heart beats with jolts of lightning, and her neck’s pulse is the cacophonous thunder that…
By the hand of my phantom, I tried to fill the looming void of infinity. This monster was not a figment of my imagination. This monster was a being that lived in the same body as I did. I was guided by this…
You look at me through dark eyes whose shade is founded in arrogance and ignorance. Their glare is penetrating, excruciating even as you are unaware of the raking gashes they tear into the security of my psyche. I am a porcelain doll whose…
Prompt: Discuss the idea(s) developed in by the text creator in your chosen text about the ways in which human longing shapes individuals’ lives. (Cold Personal) This personal response was inspired from another piece I have written, Experience and Innocence. This story, however, has been further developed,…
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…
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