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just an average teen writer looking to scribble out young thoughts from ashy papers
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Message from Writer

Glory in mediocrity as you ascend, a phoenix, a comet, a phalanx of ink brushes and skin hurtling across the sky

A Gift For You

June 2, 2018


I have come to offer you a gift.

Yes, you, there on the other side of the screen, and all the others who will read this with a smile with full curves that enchant love forth.

And this gift is not the shiny foil-wrapped ones you get at Christmas, nor the obligatory crunchy plastic gift baggies with chocolates and pencil sharpeners in them, nor the oblong paper cranes you collect from the sky, the ground, in the mall....

This is a gift of words and a memory which you may choose to make your own, if you would accept it. 

It is a crackly, shiny memory, that will blind you and spell "forgetting" onto the tear-crusted history you have crossed out in your heart.

The announcer is nameless as he hands you the trophy. It is gilded gold, you know, and will turn silver or maybe even bronze with the constant tracing you will do with your thumb at home until you smell permanently of iron and rust- but meanwhile, you have been reborn for tonight. The audience claps and roars and stomps their feet, and as you grin, small hot laugh-waters snowballing down your face, you have been titled "The Royalty", "The Brave One", "Spirit of Wandering Fire-flower", and so many others, enough that you could be addressed by a different one every single day of your life. Where you thought would only be numbness, a pretense of joy, has been replaced by something far more worthy, and it is warm and sticky inside you like melted popsicles on a sunny day, making an involuntary sun beam forth from your smile that reaches from ear to ear. There is no helping it as your cheeks tinge red quietly and your mouth splits into teeth, and of those whose faces you squint to decipher, three will fall in love like the time they discovered fireflies- a rush of surprise and exhilaration and widening eyes as you spin around in their irises. But in the moment, there is nothing else besides you, the champion of the people, buoyed by their applause until their hands burn red and they reluctantly pause to hoot out calls of wonder, of magic, of-



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  • June 2, 2018 - 11:57pm (Now Viewing)

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