It’s an unfortunate fact of life that all good things must come to an end. At least that’s what my Aunt Elma said, the night before she killed me.
By nat2 years ago in Psyche
The cage was cold and hard. I look down at the bare patches of skin on my chest, red, raw, rubbed. How I longed to break free from this prison, escape back to the sky-scraping trees, green, glowing in the sun. I used to be beautiful.
By nat3 years ago in Petlife
It’s 11:59pm and I’m sitting on the kerb outside my house. The tears won’t stop. Neither will the snot. But that’s okay because there’s also grass where I’m sitting. The only light is the streetlight, tossing its glow upon the gritty pavement. And the seemingly insurmountable weight of life is pressing down on me, hard.
By nat3 years ago in Psyche
They say That home is where the heart is But how can that be, if the heart is shattered? Shot Into a million pieces
By nat3 years ago in Poets
There are always a million different alternatives, pathways, things said and left unsaid. A million routes for a million journeys, each co-existing in this peculiar thing called life.
By nat3 years ago in Humans