The Secret History of Insecurity
And the under-representation of the heaviness of “purity”
I am not the girl he thought I would be.
But how could he know when he was just eighteen?
More than me at fourteen, fifteen…
Piss poor attempt of swimming upstream.
Maybe I could plant a seed, and with time and growth he and I can both see.
The old will wash away and the new will bring the pulsing heat.
What happens if the old gets tangled in the drain?
How do we keep new from running vain?
We fill the inner frame of his locker.
I am praying he hung a mirror on his heart…
Is it even possible that he still admires his high school art?
About the Creator
Dakota Love Dangler
Because it's easier to write my thoughts than speak them.
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Once More Unto The Breach
He let the sword slip through his other gauntleted hand. Athlistan stood atop the crest of the rubble of Bordanium’s ruptured curtain wall. Beyond, the remnants of the Saxon’s first assault regrouped. They would come again–Athlistan knew it.
By Matthew Fromm2 days ago in Fiction
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