I lie awake. Haunting my thoughts are the voices of those I have hurt. Forever running to the next day. Trapped in an endless cycle.

"Hello?" he nervously clicked his mic on.

"Bonjour,"
"Ohayoo gozaimasu!"
"Ciao,"
"Hallå,"
"Γεια σας,"
"Hola!"

Voices smiled as the world became a little bit smaller.

Their lips tasted as rotten as the bodies they smote down. Yet they both still lived; maybe love could also survive where all else died.

The bright light danced around her. She tried to capture it in her hands. She reached out to grab the light. The light was captured. 

The photos curled sullenly as the flames consumed them.
    “Do you really think it’ll help?” She asked cautiously.
    “No, but it’s a place to start.”

Plunge!
Sunlight spun through the cold water, blurry before her eyes as she snapped (again) at a passing salmon.
Too slow. The fish bolted upstream.

Fall.
Leave crunch under the boots of little
children coming home for the break.
Wind whips the clouds away. Giving
way for something new... Fall

Fall.
Leave crunch under the boots of little
children coming home for the break.
Wind whips the clouds away. Giving
way for something new... Fall

i want a guy like him. the one that broke my heart. it was good before the end. i want him, but never him again.

I am going to be reunited with the love of my life.  I see him standing there. He says ¨it's not your time¨. I wake up. 

The minute his feet touched the ground, I knew it was over. How could I fight a world that's already completely bent to his will?

She was running to the bus stop, nothing had gone as planned and now the bus was about to leave. Then she heard a loud...

She did not have wings to fly on her own.
But floating like a Dandelion's seed, the breath of her loved one carried her anywhere.

He took a frantic, haggard breath. All around him machines screamed. His wife watched from a screen, held by a masked woman. He couldn't breathe.

Look at her, that girl there. Yellow boots and navy coat. Something in her pocket, a dagger? Maybe. Is she a murderer? I don't know.

Look at her, that girl there. Yellow boots and navy coat. Something in her pocket, a dagger? Maybe. Is she a murderer? I don't know.

Lilly woke up in the middle of the ocean, blinked and found herself in her bedroom, she slept again, scared to open her eyes again.

As soon as my pen touches the page, words come spilling out. I am so engrossed that the world around me is shut off.

i have two premature wrinkles. last night a pimple appeared between them. when i talk, it moves like a mountain between two tectonic plates. 

She finally found out who she was. She never felt more complete in her entire life. For the first time in forever she was happy.

his passion is of
igniting and formidable touches caressing my skin
leaving a burning trace, that marks me hell girl
reminding me i'm his underworld

(These are two seperate 25 word stories that stemmed from the same idea)


I thought the winter had ended, on that sunny day.
Yet when I finally looked over at you, still, you were looking the other way.

——————

Spring arrived the day that I finally looked at you, but still you were looking the other way. You remained frozen, and I bloomed anyway. 



 

Pacific crown of sleeping calderas
Do not wake from your extended siesta
Remain suspended in that afternoon
We’re not ready to say goodbye so soon

Water everywhere drowning you, but a figure above reaches out to help. The water is pulling you away but their hand grasps yours, saving you. 

Blackcurrant squash was often stained red on my wife's shirt, which I always found funny because she was allergic. I wonder how it got there.