Nicole Booth
Bio
I have been a writer since childhood and have had my work published by The Canadian Poetry Institute of Canada as well as on my website provided below.
www.punk-rock-hits-bottom.com
Stories (6/0)
Just A Four Letter Word
To fall in love is to do just that- lose all footing and have no concept of what it is to touch the ground. You literally fall face first into a pit of infatuation and disregard all rationality. For the first time in history your heart uses its muscle mass to over power your brain with a full on intent on running the entire show. For anyone who instinctively follows the voice of reason, love almost feels like a mistake before it has even begun. Like a romantic comedy, the idea of love starts off full of fun and promise and somewhere down the line starts to look more like a thriller. You find yourself turning into one of those people watching a horror movie saying things like “don’t look in the closet it’s a trap” but you know damn well that the fool on screen will do it anyways even though all the signs are there warning them against it. In this pivotal moment you turn and say to your friends, “I would never have done that. They must have seen it coming!”
By Nicole Booth4 years ago in Humans
Goodbye Letters
I never like to leave things unsaid. Chances are that those of you reading this have some level of understanding on just how awful it feels when we are not gifted the opportunity to say our last piece. In fact, you might even know just how it feels to have your feelings and expressions floating around you in limbo with no clear direction at all.
By Nicole Booth4 years ago in Humans
Road Maps
When I was just a little girl, my dad made one of the biggest decisions of his life. As a single parent and having nothing left to lose, he drove us across the country to start over. All I remember bringing was a small embroidered nap sack with an Aztec design on it, and inside it held my few rubber lion king toys. I spent the duration of the week-long drive playing with those toys on a tarred-up dashboard and hot leather seats pointing out birds on the road up ahead so my father wouldn’t hit them. “Nicole you have the eyes of an eagle,” my father would say as we drove down the highway. Sometimes, I would spot those birds miles before my father could even make them out at all and even with my keen vision, I didn’t see the courage that move must have taken my father until much later in life.
By Nicole Booth4 years ago in Families
