Arts + Entertainment
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Dulling the pain
Misplaced. Honestly, an irregular thing for me. I am an instrument of death. An artist of torture. My handle was crafted for my owner to never lose grip, my blade usually gets sharpened every day. I lay abandoned on the cold floor of a basement. Tossed to the side without any second thought in my opinion. This type of betrayal, I can only dream of giving the same treatment to my owner as he had done to his endless victims. Stabbings, quick slashing, shallow cuts, even punches with my handle. The glorious job of being a serial killer’s murder weapon.
Sara ZervosPublished 4 months ago in FictionPersephone's Lament
In the crisp bite of winter At the end of an era I tear into the flesh of the fruit I pick with grubby hands I tear at the sinews
Rowan RileyPublished 4 months ago in PoetsAn Author's Intervention
Everyone tells stories. It's part of being human. But some of us feel called to share our stories with the world, wondering if we might earn a living writing. If you're one of these types, I warn you, friend, once others learn about your aspirations, they will pepper you with endless questions about how your writing is going until inevitably someone asks the evil, boss-monster of all questions, "Have you published anything yet?"
MatthewKuszaPublished 4 months ago in WritersMy Vocal Year: 2024
This year is my vocal year. The year I make changes. My year to push past the limiting beliefs that have a hold over my creativity and let the words fly.
Courtney AnnPublished 4 months ago in WritersThe Art of Becoming My Father
My father gifted me my russet eyes and my olive Ashkenazi skin. He cursed me with idiopathic kidney disease and curved optic nerves. We share the same personality traits, the same likes, the same dislikes. I mirror his idiosyncrasies in everything I do…for the most part. Unfortunately, I did not manage to inherit the trait that I admire most in my father.
Rachel Hannah FendrichPublished 4 months ago in WritersUNEEDA
Sloane doesn't know where I am, does she? I cannot understand how she misplaced and forgot me; I'm eight inches long, sharp, and shapely, for chrissakes!
Andrea CorwinPublished 4 months ago in HorrorWinter Rose
It’s my birthday today. I never say my wishes out loud everyone knows after that they don’t come true. I’m a closed book. I’ll never let anyone read, but just this once. Just for you, I'll open my pages and tell you my wish.
Valentine VampirePublished 4 months ago in PoetsHow the 'Boktai' Series Lost Its Identity
One of my favorite video game series of all time is Boktai. Boktai is an action role-playing game series renowned for its solar sensor gimmick. However, out of the Boktai series, I only consider the original game Boktai: The Sun is in Your Hand to be a classic. While I still enjoy the sequels, I believe they stray too far from the original to deliver a satisfying follow-up. More specifically, the sequels to Boktai: The Sun is in Your Hand lack the stealth and personalization of the original.