Steadfast. Strong. Steady. Weak. Shaken. Vulnerable. Lost. Who says you have to choose? Who says you have to hide? I see you. I have seen the unveiling. I have peeked behind your heavy curtains. I have witnessed the backstage happenings. Putting on your mask of security. That chiseled mask you have been taught to wear. … Continue reading The One Whom My Soul Loves.
Tag: lit
Day 2.
Sleep evades me. Like two akin magnets. The wheels don’t stop. Round and round and round they go. Like the wheels on the bus. Numbness settles in. Like a long lost relative, finally coming home. Nothing feels real. Nothing feels certain. Nothing feels stable. It’s still easy to hide though. The plastic smile distracts curious … Continue reading Day 2.
Hauntings of the Unasked.
Oh what we would hear if only we asked. And maybe we do, but we don’t really want to know. We don’t really want elaboration. We like simple questions with simple answers. But oh how intelligent we are! How smart and cunning! But don’t ask anything too hard. Anything that will require some attention drawn … Continue reading Hauntings of the Unasked.
It.
It’s heavy. The weight of it pushing down. Down. Down. It’s crushing. Yet comforting. To be wrapped in a shawl of isolation. To enter a limbo that’s been created out of necessity. To enter and get lost. To get lost in the dark reality. And dark it is. It’s nothing. It’s eternal. It’s unnoticeable. Easy … Continue reading It.
To Know Her.
On her knees. Sable mascara running down her cheeks. Ruby lipstick smeared across her lips. She’s a mess. A fucking mess. And she wouldn’t have it any other way. He grips her chin in his strong hand. She’s beautiful. She’s beautiful when she’s at her lowest. When not a part of her doesn’t belong to … Continue reading To Know Her.
A Shattered Masterpiece.
It’s endless. This path. This thing I’m working so hard on. It’s impossible. This thing I’m trying to sculpt. This thing I’m trying to morph into shape. It’s ruthless. Shutting down the screaming demons in my chaotic mind. Shutting them down; shutting them up. It’s paralyzing. Taking a breath, standing up for myself. Is it … Continue reading A Shattered Masterpiece.
Uncensored Eloquence 