Writer’s Block
The dark that doesn’t speak. The dark that doesn’t let starlight shimmer off it. The dark that drenches you in its ignorant sheen.
Category: Short prose
Citizens of the Night
They say the beauty of all things good lies in their mortality, but some things like the starry city or the citizens of the night will always live on, the kind of memory that lingers on after decades, and when the going gets tough, I think this is the memory we’ll all visit – the time we soared the edges of reality with the kindest group of strangers ever.
The Bus to Nowhere
“I want to give up my bearings, slip out of who I am, shed everything, the way a snake discards old skin.”― Khaled Hosseini, And the Mountains Echoed The Christmas lights are fading, half-made-up trees on the verge of being completely disassembled and stored away in dark shelves and rooms until their time comes again. Festive smiles […]
When I Was Your Age
She points far ahead and shows us where her family’s land ends. Or ended when she was a child. Today it’s all real estate, people battling to build houses, shops and skyscrapers because it’s a scenic place. But it won’t be when they’re done butchering it.
Autumnal Whispers
~ point of view: you’re walking with a friend who talks (and thinks) too much ~
It is I | World Suicide Prevention Day 2022
“We can all create hope through action and be the light.”
Frustrated Love
When the world feels blue, my vision is cleaved by different timelines or interests that ease this loss of purpose. But too much heart often ends up numbing everything out — this world and its constructs, all these societal requirements, dreams, hopes, and love – love for what might be.
heart & soul spill – poetry
cherished firsts and fleeting scraps of thoughts;
these cold words – dear, are they
for bitter freedom do I hold when they soar away.
An Aquatic Tale – Abandoned Halfway // {summer of stories #3}
I sigh as I think about how many stories go unwritten while others are abandoned halfway.
A Walk On the Beach // {summer of stories #1}
They don’t tell you this but freedom has a scent of its own. It’s powerful and feels like closure in the form of a thick, warm blanket.
Random Specific Thoughts 