#SixWordStories: February 13th
Happy anniversary, lover.
Happy anniversary, liar.
Happy anniversary, lover.
Happy anniversary, liar.
Do you remember that place? A time when every emotion was a Picasso painting? Vibrant jealousy. Mind-bending joy. Lucious fear oozing through pores. Jarring ecstasy coating the roof of your mouth, the back of your neck and the inside of your navel. Crippling wonder that made you want to stop…
Some of us need to learn how to be loved. How to receive warmth & not fear burns. How to forget that trembling alone, arms wrapped around ourselves, is not the same thing as being held. How to feel without flinching. How to change a body rhythm that only beats…
In between your precise wordsand your regimented actionsyou spilt me one lookthat drowned it all.
There’s a certain kind of man who gets off on sad women. It’s an entire trope – The Depressed/Tortured/Troubled/Damsel-in-distress that the guy ‘rescues’ with minimal emotional investment by clowning around. He is not a Manic Pixie Dream Guy. No, the original in that trope is not a person and only…
I wish learning were about curiosity, not a degree. I wish I didn’t live in a world where questions were deemed stupid, caring was uncool, interest was intrusive and curiosity killed. Because my curiosity is my compass, leading me mind-first into every path that makes it possible to be me….
I always imagined writer’s block would be about running out of things to write about. But the ideas are there. They just don’t flow properly? Yeah…you know how it feels like pen and paper or keyboard and screen are one with your body and that the blood in your veins…
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