United States

[Nana O. | she/her]
est. 6/19/20
*A walking contradiction*
"writing, to me, is simply thinking through my fingers," - Isaac Asimov


Message to Readers

dun dun dun... writer's block has struck once again!


September 28, 2020


Black smoke billows from the ceiling,
and a high-pitched whistle begins ringing in my ear.
From witnessing these strange affairs, I've already
discerned your otherwordly presence coming to haunt
me, just as you had the other night before.

Lurking around the murky corners of my room,
your evocative voice, one of a booming echo,
stretches out all the way down the corridors;
that evocative voice manages to drawl in memories of a 
warped past.

With an appearance as pale as the moonbeam,
your seraphic visage nearly hypnotizes me.
Your frigid fingers stroke against my cheek,
as if to coerce me into your sick twisted game.
But I refuse to be entranced this time.

As an act of vengeance, you manipulate my words,
making it sound as if I'm the oppressor. 
As if you hadn't palpably damaged me afore your passing,
you continue to persist with your hellish insults that shatter
me like a fragile glass.

It is when your angellike appearance vanishes,
and becomes one of a grotesque wraith,
that I finally come to realize
your ghostly presence consumes my hope
of ever healing.



See History
  • September 28, 2020 - 5:15pm (Now Viewing)

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1 Comment
  • Mpm#1

    This is pretty frightening...... Really good job! :)

    12 months ago