Fiction: “Literature in the form of prose, especially short stories and novels, that describes imaginary events and people.” Some of these pieces are inspired by real events and some are just a figment of my imagination.
They say pressure creates diamonds, but is that kind of clarity worth the pain? I was so sure of who I was once. I went out into the world with no other plan than to live in it. I failed fast, rolled with the punches, and punched back. Through each turn of the screw, each […]
I’m scared to speak because I need this peace, freshly captured once more, even if it’s false. I could scarcely cope with more scrupulosity today, or tomorrow. Three days turn to five and two weeks turn to six. “I can’t get you out of my mind,” I first said so early on, yeilded with such
For a brief time you were the sun to me. Everything that you did, and all that you were, and all that I knew we could be, lit up my dark skies. The time that passed in silence gave me a chance to grow cold over the memories of us. There is no more warmth
I rise to the sun, singingThe song of her heartThat still holds my hand. A hand held outsideOf time and space,In our own world. A melody born with the stars,New, but still so familiar. A promise made to me beforeThe first blade of grass was given.Before the moon was in the sky andThe waters separated
My hand went to write sad things out of habit, but my mending heart wouldn’t let me. We’ve been told that the mouth speaks what the heart is filled with, and so it is, that I’m overflowing with poems and praises of her. My heart first hesitated, but her words, sharpened by the whetstone of
To touch her soul, if only but once, is all I wish to do. What happens when words aren’t enough? What happens when time is too short to win her over? What if I lose the chance to open up, and show that I’m more than, and in some respects less than, I appear to
My hand yearns to write happy things,but my broken heart still won’t let me. I always said that if your love ever stopped, I wouldn’t hold it against you. I never saw you as merely an object to obtain, a subject to study, or a city to be conquered. You said you’d never loved someone
Her heart is a song that holds my hand. Her brown eyes pierce my soul, familiar, but mysterious. She’s outwardly shy, with a wild fire inside; she often hides it, but I can see. She’s painted in shades of passionate gentleness, soft strength, brave innocence, and beautiful hope. Through all the troubles of the world,
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I’ve admired many women at first sight, but never have I loved them in that moment. I believed that love at first sight was something that only happened in the movies and romance novels. That is, until a Friday in May. Every Friday I would meet up with friends who worked in the surrounding office
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