Short story

We Ain’t the Same

“You're an angel?” he asked with an incredulous tone. I continued running my hands over his wounds. Healing them whenever I made contact. “You seem surprised?” I answered. “Well yes, where I'm from Angels don't look like you,” he casted his eyes downward. “What do your Angels look like?” I cocked an eyebrow upward. Let… Continue reading We Ain’t the Same

Advertisements
Short story

Darling, these eyes can’t lie (rewrite)

“Ugh,” I flipped backwards on my bed. I rolled over, tossed the toy in frustration, and got up. Passing my bedroom mirror, I saw that my eyes were dark purple with speckles of red. I sighed with irritation and stripped out the rest of my clothes. My evening had been a waste of time and… Continue reading Darling, these eyes can’t lie (rewrite)

my poems

9 ways in which me and my depression actually played nice this week.

I went to bed at three in the morning. After spending six hours writing a novel that I do not hate. I was not sad about this but content.Depression let me eat. And that was it. And I ate just enough to fill me. I did not let the food become a paperweight to crush… Continue reading 9 ways in which me and my depression actually played nice this week.

my poems

We just call it a rose, but the rose calls itself a miracle

Did you hear about the rose that grew from concrete? It's roots turned cement to soil, it's leaves stole so much sunlight, the color was so vibrant it looked painted. The rose looked at the world and dared it to say anything was impossible, it's growth proven them all wrong. The only rose that grew… Continue reading We just call it a rose, but the rose calls itself a miracle