Sta.sh
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What if... [What if] s[he'd been] telling [the] truth?What if... by ~Peghan
Then what does that make you? Utter [demon ? ]s of the human race, [a pointed] gun, a smiling [face.] [A] whispered [li]e in many e[ar]s, a rumour bound to span [for years.]
Down t[he] corridors and up the ['s]tairs, [a cold]-war school where no one cares. [Fear]s of getting teased in town, [behind every smile] hides [a] dark frown. I used to think that we were [friend]s, a summer [full of] bright weekends. But that pointed gun, that smiling face, [destroyed] your [soul], your heart, your face.
A face, a soul, a [trust] of lace.
But what [is] the point of making these black inky tears
...But.... The next day, she walked into......But.... by ~Peghan
... School... Her home... The Office...
And sat down next to her...
....Classmate.... Husband.... Colleague....
Without a word.
She put her hands on her knees, and stared into her lap. Outside the weather was....
...Nice.... Horrid.... Unimportant....
She didn't care. Everything was hurting now but, for a few hours, her life had been....
....Perfect.... Unblemished.... Hers...
Tears began to well in her eyes. Scalding her cheeks, they spilled sluggishly down her face. Embarrassing. Pathetic. Unneeded.
Her...
....Classmate.... Husband.... Colleague....
Looked at her with concern and, when he sp
The Paper Ghost Throwing down her pen in frustration, the Author cried, 'What is it you want?!'The Paper Ghost by ~Peghan
The boy standing in the doorway wrung his hands in embarrassment, 'I want a story...'
Exhaling deeply, she studied him. Her gaze ran over his soft hair and the slight iridescence of his skin. She noted the odd way that the boy appeared to shimmer like a haze of heat. His eyes were deep and brown, and his lips played the tune of a nervous smile.
'I cannot give you a story,' She said brusquely, 'I am all out of stories! Look at me! I am hollow, I am gone, I am nothing! You want a story?' The Author paused whilst he nodded, 'Then go out and live! Breath
Whimsicality's Argument In my chest, there is a heart, and in my heart, there are two valves, and – in those valves – there is an argument. In one valve sits Whimsicality. Her irises are full of scribbled words, and her lips are splashed with paint. The other valve is home to formality, his face is lain like cracked concrete, and – when he speaks – one can almost imagine his lips being pressed against a vertical knife blade. A clear, sharp edge separating forethought and afterthought.Whimsicality's Argument by ~Peghan
'We should keep this heart beating steadily,' Drones Formality, 'There will be less chance of the muscle injuring itself if it keeps to the same routine, the sa
Writing is Dead In stories the winners win and the losers lose. The lovers love and the haters hate. Everyone is painted in vivid black and white paints and, as a result, depth is dead. Meaning grows on stunted trees of morals, in orchards of clichés and half-ideas. Characters are as thin as dried out blades of grass and blow helplessly in the wind.Writing is Dead by ~Peghan
I just want to write something beautiful, but I can't. The world clings onto my feet and refuses to release me. My imagination is weighed down by heavy reality. I want to run and sing and jump and cry and laugh and cheer, but only with words and paper. And I want my words to make other peo
Somewhere to Escape I just wanted somewhere I could escape. Escape from you. When I moved town, you moved too. Sometimes, when the rain falls heavily, I can see your silhouette behind me. Stalking me. Always there.Somewhere to Escape by ~Mica-Cleary
The memory of you burns my mind like acid. And, although you died many years ago, I cannot hide from it. You've well and truly wormed your way into my head, little sister. I loved you. I hope you knew that. I never meant to kill you.
Like bile, the guilt wells up in my throat. That day should never have happened. That day I threw your doll out onto the tracks. That day you ran out to get it back. That day your shoe got stuck between the
Imagine Me Away Imagine that I'm someone else,Imagine Me Away by ~tomorrow22
Fold up my mind like origami,
Put my brain up on the shelf,
Wrap me up and fly me free.
Imagine that I'm somewhere else,
Send me out in new directions.
Pack my walls and books to stay,
Free me of my own protections.
Imagine I'm another time or place,
A collect call you could just refuse,
A blackboard you could just erase,
A non-memory you can't abuse.
Imagine that I'm really me,
Living with my books and walls,
Happy just to stay and be,
Accepting all your listed calls.
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