Something like Poetry

Casualty

she is the kind that mourns when the days turn red - 'cause the clouds could not cover up a wound the sky wished it hid. she is the kind that paints such pictures with nothing but her words. quite often she turns red when her words are read. one too many times I ponder… Continue reading Casualty

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Original Writings

Josie and I

The oldest memory that I remember or have of Josie Salem is the one from 9th grade. I used to be this overweight, fourteen year old stout kid, who wore his pants high-waist, and combed his hair sideways everyday of the week, and who didn't think twice about my crooked spectacles, because appearances hardly mattered.… Continue reading Josie and I

Original Writings

Letters to Felicity (I)

Dear Felicity, Today I took the 13:15 to the call center that I work at. It's usually a half hour ride to the city from my hometown, and I normally get to cover the 2 to 8 shift. It's not exactly the best, but it's either this or the night shift, you see. And I… Continue reading Letters to Felicity (I)

Something like Poetry

Clover

The sun, sets while the crowds keep whizzing by Unaware and uncaring of who you are. In between this chaos that defines monotony I see a diamond shimmer, in a heap of charcoal. Forgive the blind for they can’t see the color of your eyes, The stare you give me today is cold and deep.… Continue reading Clover