I’ve lived in the wilds for 13 years on my own. I have found the most fruitful hunting grounds, the juiciest watering holes. As the seasons change the landscape, my keen nose and sharp eye are quick to assist my soft human brain, my slow human brain. Special needs.
I have many enemies as I pad the soft earth to where my body needs to go. Sticks breaking, eyes watching, fight or flight at the ready. Sometimes we cross paths, giving each other side eyes as we pass, hands on our crude wooden spears filed down with acidic patience. Even as we both continue on, we watch with our ears, shoulders turned slightly in the direction we came
Her hand was in mine when we started
Cold ivory I squeezed, pulled, eyes ever forward
Shoulder strained at the socket.
I was blinded by darkness, of a path only I could see.
It glowed forest green to my hungry eyes
Soft dirt puffs, my feet are floating, body gliding
it is too easy swimming, black water currents hold me
resist, my arms in front and thrust back, moving
imperceptibly forward.
My hand is empty
Ages have passed
I look back and see only darkness
And now darkness before as well.
Writer's Block Notebook #169 by sassypint, literature
Literature
Writer's Block Notebook #169
The lunch had been going painfully awkwardly, for everyone. The two ladies played with their salads and sipped their teas as the silence between them stretched from seconds to minutes. A moment of trivial small talk about the weather, then silence.
“Oh, I heard that new store down the street has special gear.”
“Oh, how nice.”
“Yes.” Silence.
The patrons sitting around them on the patio of the restaurant were getting uncomfortable as well, unable to enjoy the beautiful summer afternoon. One of the two ladies, the blonde, finally put her fork down with a frustrated huff. She crossed her arms. “
Writer's Block Notebook #163 by sassypint, literature
Literature
Writer's Block Notebook #163
This is not just a bed. It is a vessel. When I’m on top, and lay my head down, there is no limit to the places I go nor the people I see. Sometimes it’s a horror film, a strobe light, a darkness, a feeling. Sometimes it’s bright and sharp, filled with smiles and sunlight and warm embraces. Sometimes I’m falling in the dark and slam into awareness. Sometimes my teeth fall out right before an important exam and everyone is waiting for me. Sometimes I don’t go anywhere at all, and just stare at the ceiling and worry. Sometimes it’s a playground, to bounce on and cartwheel and tumble. To chase a string
Writer's Block Notebook #159 by sassypint, literature
Literature
Writer's Block Notebook #159
‘tap’ ‘tap’ ‘tap’
The incessant noise jarred me out of my peaceful slumber. Grumbling in annoyance, I whipped my pillow out and pressed it over my head.
‘Tap’ ‘Tap’ ‘Tap’
I could still hear it, the knocking. Groaning in defeat, I threw the pillow off, glancing out the corner of my eye to the window to see what it was. I froze. A long, golden stick was just outside. ‘That wasn’t there last night’ my sleepy mind bemused. I rolled over, already drifting back to sleep.
‘TAP’ ‘TAP’ ‘TAP’
I threw the covers off and
Writer's Block Notebook # 155 by sassypint, literature
Literature
Writer's Block Notebook # 155
We walk the same path, he and I, though time separates us. For him, he is walking from the stable where his horse is kept. For me, I am coming from my apartment complex. Though it has been many years since it was a livery, I’ve always enjoyed the rustic architecture. Now I am going to my favorite bistro for breakfast. For him, he is going to the bank to pick up his wages before beginning work. We both have breakfast on the corner: me a lovely assortment of fruit, pastry and coffee, he a simple piece of rye bread and cheese. It is all he will have until sunset. We leave the corner together, he heading to the city hall to collect
Writer's Block Notebook # 154 by sassypint, literature
Literature
Writer's Block Notebook # 154
I felt like a train on a track, unable to change my course, rolling easily unless intervened by catastrophe. I didn’t mind. I see her in the sunset. In the vivid oranges and purples and golds. Her hair is the clouds, her eyes the birds, her lips the mountains, her heart the sun. Stuck on a track rolling towards the sunset. I don’t mind. Though she is not with me now in body she is there. In my mind a goal. She is in the air around me. I feel her breath when the wind blows, the gentle tickle on my neck that makes my hair stand up. The leaves tinkling together are the song of her voice, her hum, her happy aura that cannot
Writer's Block Notebook # 153 by sassypint, literature
Literature
Writer's Block Notebook # 153
It’s an honor to be here, I know that. I know that. An internship at the most prestigious barn, with a world renowned trainer? Chance of a lifetime. I never expected the odd requirements he demanded of us interns, though. Like sheering our hair off, and wearing plain grey clothes he provided. The longer I was there the more it felt like a prison. The other interns, boys and girls, all around their teens, seemed not to care. They rough-housed and joked. Maybe it’s the weather. Its been cold and rainy non-stop since we arrived, always dark. And when he shaved my head, my beautiful thick red locks falling to the floor, I c
Wallflower in an empty room by sassypint, literature
Literature
Wallflower in an empty room
Wallflower in an empty room
One can only see up close. One can only see with focus.
Invisible walls, don't look don't see. Speak loud then close down.
The mouth is for outgoing sound, the eyes are filters, shuttered, blinded.
The nail that stands up gets hammered down.
When does the fear start?
Outstanding material hidden. What is your metal?
Shatter at the strike like glass, or wound the aggressor like diamond?
In a vacuum void of earthly pressures and eyes, what do you want to be?
Would you like to be worn, or hidden away unfound?
A symbol-piece and used, or free but stuck in one place?
We are all carbon-based. We can all be diamonds.
Do
Purple, grey, black, and white. Obsidian rings in middle fingers.
The community created to fill the absence in our lives.
The desire for companionship, fondness, and affection.
The desire for understanding and acceptance.
The desire for love.
Like charcoal in the place of diamond, the community is the line we cling to as the wind and rain whip up waves that crash upon us, and with layers of skin scraping off, we cling to that slippery rope for dear life.
What kind of life is this?
Cold and soaked with none but a breath a blessing?
Consuming charcoal circles surrounded by a world of blinding diamonds. Diamonds so hard they slice into any f
I’ve lived in the wilds for 13 years on my own. I have found the most fruitful hunting grounds, the juiciest watering holes. As the seasons change the landscape, my keen nose and sharp eye are quick to assist my soft human brain, my slow human brain. Special needs.
I have many enemies as I pad the soft earth to where my body needs to go. Sticks breaking, eyes watching, fight or flight at the ready. Sometimes we cross paths, giving each other side eyes as we pass, hands on our crude wooden spears filed down with acidic patience. Even as we both continue on, we watch with our ears, shoulders turned slightly in the direction we came
Her hand was in mine when we started
Cold ivory I squeezed, pulled, eyes ever forward
Shoulder strained at the socket.
I was blinded by darkness, of a path only I could see.
It glowed forest green to my hungry eyes
Soft dirt puffs, my feet are floating, body gliding
it is too easy swimming, black water currents hold me
resist, my arms in front and thrust back, moving
imperceptibly forward.
My hand is empty
Ages have passed
I look back and see only darkness
And now darkness before as well.
Writer's Block Notebook #169 by sassypint, literature
Literature
Writer's Block Notebook #169
The lunch had been going painfully awkwardly, for everyone. The two ladies played with their salads and sipped their teas as the silence between them stretched from seconds to minutes. A moment of trivial small talk about the weather, then silence.
“Oh, I heard that new store down the street has special gear.”
“Oh, how nice.”
“Yes.” Silence.
The patrons sitting around them on the patio of the restaurant were getting uncomfortable as well, unable to enjoy the beautiful summer afternoon. One of the two ladies, the blonde, finally put her fork down with a frustrated huff. She crossed her arms. “
Writer's Block Notebook #163 by sassypint, literature
Literature
Writer's Block Notebook #163
This is not just a bed. It is a vessel. When I’m on top, and lay my head down, there is no limit to the places I go nor the people I see. Sometimes it’s a horror film, a strobe light, a darkness, a feeling. Sometimes it’s bright and sharp, filled with smiles and sunlight and warm embraces. Sometimes I’m falling in the dark and slam into awareness. Sometimes my teeth fall out right before an important exam and everyone is waiting for me. Sometimes I don’t go anywhere at all, and just stare at the ceiling and worry. Sometimes it’s a playground, to bounce on and cartwheel and tumble. To chase a string
Writer's Block Notebook #159 by sassypint, literature
Literature
Writer's Block Notebook #159
‘tap’ ‘tap’ ‘tap’
The incessant noise jarred me out of my peaceful slumber. Grumbling in annoyance, I whipped my pillow out and pressed it over my head.
‘Tap’ ‘Tap’ ‘Tap’
I could still hear it, the knocking. Groaning in defeat, I threw the pillow off, glancing out the corner of my eye to the window to see what it was. I froze. A long, golden stick was just outside. ‘That wasn’t there last night’ my sleepy mind bemused. I rolled over, already drifting back to sleep.
‘TAP’ ‘TAP’ ‘TAP’
I threw the covers off and
Writer's Block Notebook # 155 by sassypint, literature
Literature
Writer's Block Notebook # 155
We walk the same path, he and I, though time separates us. For him, he is walking from the stable where his horse is kept. For me, I am coming from my apartment complex. Though it has been many years since it was a livery, I’ve always enjoyed the rustic architecture. Now I am going to my favorite bistro for breakfast. For him, he is going to the bank to pick up his wages before beginning work. We both have breakfast on the corner: me a lovely assortment of fruit, pastry and coffee, he a simple piece of rye bread and cheese. It is all he will have until sunset. We leave the corner together, he heading to the city hall to collect
Writer's Block Notebook # 154 by sassypint, literature
Literature
Writer's Block Notebook # 154
I felt like a train on a track, unable to change my course, rolling easily unless intervened by catastrophe. I didn’t mind. I see her in the sunset. In the vivid oranges and purples and golds. Her hair is the clouds, her eyes the birds, her lips the mountains, her heart the sun. Stuck on a track rolling towards the sunset. I don’t mind. Though she is not with me now in body she is there. In my mind a goal. She is in the air around me. I feel her breath when the wind blows, the gentle tickle on my neck that makes my hair stand up. The leaves tinkling together are the song of her voice, her hum, her happy aura that cannot
Writer's Block Notebook # 153 by sassypint, literature
Literature
Writer's Block Notebook # 153
It’s an honor to be here, I know that. I know that. An internship at the most prestigious barn, with a world renowned trainer? Chance of a lifetime. I never expected the odd requirements he demanded of us interns, though. Like sheering our hair off, and wearing plain grey clothes he provided. The longer I was there the more it felt like a prison. The other interns, boys and girls, all around their teens, seemed not to care. They rough-housed and joked. Maybe it’s the weather. Its been cold and rainy non-stop since we arrived, always dark. And when he shaved my head, my beautiful thick red locks falling to the floor, I c
Wallflower in an empty room by sassypint, literature
Literature
Wallflower in an empty room
Wallflower in an empty room
One can only see up close. One can only see with focus.
Invisible walls, don't look don't see. Speak loud then close down.
The mouth is for outgoing sound, the eyes are filters, shuttered, blinded.
The nail that stands up gets hammered down.
When does the fear start?
Outstanding material hidden. What is your metal?
Shatter at the strike like glass, or wound the aggressor like diamond?
In a vacuum void of earthly pressures and eyes, what do you want to be?
Would you like to be worn, or hidden away unfound?
A symbol-piece and used, or free but stuck in one place?
We are all carbon-based. We can all be diamonds.
Do
Purple, grey, black, and white. Obsidian rings in middle fingers.
The community created to fill the absence in our lives.
The desire for companionship, fondness, and affection.
The desire for understanding and acceptance.
The desire for love.
Like charcoal in the place of diamond, the community is the line we cling to as the wind and rain whip up waves that crash upon us, and with layers of skin scraping off, we cling to that slippery rope for dear life.
What kind of life is this?
Cold and soaked with none but a breath a blessing?
Consuming charcoal circles surrounded by a world of blinding diamonds. Diamonds so hard they slice into any f
You're an ocean in one drop. by rociobelindamendez, literature
Literature
You're an ocean in one drop.
You are not alone in this life. Take the time to realise those who may be counting on your strength, those whose heads fit perfectly on your shoulders, those who need your arms to hold them up.
You may be one person in the world, but you could mean the entire world to another, in many different forms. Company is what it comes down to; someone you can be alone with, someone you choose to spend your moments with, people who are more than a chapter in your story, those who are main characters, those who move you, those who linger on.
If you were really alone in this world, you wouldn’t feel alone; you’d feel complete, strong, immens