In every bit of truth, my writing is pretty terrible and by being here, I hope to improve it. Anyways, all you have to know about me is that I love coffee, my cat, and food, and of course, writing and reading. And I hate the way 'Lemon' is spelt.

Message from Writer

Say it, and risk the humiliation; scream it, or whisper, or write it - even paint it on your skin. Just say it . All you're afraid to speak, do it with a shaky voice, and small trembling hands - and say it. Say it with your last breath, be it faint, and whisper thin, or meet death quietly. Let it fall off your lips, and rid the air of its emptiness. Say it. I am a nerd.

My mother has white hands and no heart #Fire

January 2, 2019


‘someday, there will be rooms within you because you are a woman; cellar of wines and depressions, living-rooms with coffee tables and torpor, kitchens that bake carrot cakes and lusting eyes. the deadlocks on each one of their doors is the only thing that makes these rooms – rooms of a woman.’ said mother.

and I’ve never seen her hands do anything but mend the clay which come from the innards of her locket, and yet today they have put down their secrets and scars to cup the fat of my cheeks.

‘sometimes,’ said mother, her hands smelt of smoke and cinder. ‘– some men and some women, but all lovers – will come with picklocks and crowbars. Sometimes – most men and most women, but still all lovers – will come with sledgehammers and clubs. Sometimes – barely any men and scarcely any women, but always the right lovers – will come with keys and gentle knocks. But no matter what they come with – they will all get in somehow.’

mother’s fingers where chewed fingers with chewed nails – I think short nails are terrible for moulding clay. yes, mother never has to worry about the white of clay sleeping in the bedding of her nails, but that doesn’t stop them from licking at her fingertips until they are outworn and all white-boned. it hurts when she holds my cheeks like this.

‘what did father bring?’ asked I, her lockless girl.

mother said nothing until she turned her hands back to her clay table.

‘your daddy came with gasoline and matches. Your father came with a fire. And he melted all the locks away – when he burnt the whole house down.’ it was then I realised that mother was not sculpting clay – all white and playful – but ashes; all dead and cold.

mother was trying to rebuild the ashes of her fire taken house – her blaze broken heart.
Thanks for the creative contest, PureHeart! It was super fun it work with. I hope you enjoy it!


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  • Catlover


    over 1 year ago
  • N.

    This is fantastic- the metaphors, the scenery, the use of the prompt -you have a gift.
    And- the title is both badass and intriguing. ;)

    over 1 year ago
  • Blotted

    This is so amazing! The figurative language and all of the symbolism, as well as the mother talking. Why did you say you were bad at writing? Are you kidding me?

    over 1 year ago
  • Oscar_Locke

    this is just... unbelievable. i'm in awe. your writing is simply amazing. and god, the metaphors... i can feel them, and this piece, and all the emotions you sculpt into it. bravo.

    over 1 year ago
  • jengelman

    i really like this, theres some areas that id change the wording (but thats just how i read it) but like i did not think this would happen. ur fucking amazing, and like i wouldnt just say that to anyone tina. i seriously hope you develop this skill

    over 1 year ago
  • Luna Lemon

    This is so well written. Your descriptions are astounding as I can perfectly see them in my mind. One beautifully written example being, "the white of clay sleeping in the bedding of her nails, but that doesn’t stop them from licking at her fingertips until they are outworn and all white-bone". The personification of white clay "licking" and your word choice with outworn, sleeping in the bedding(super creative metaphor), and white-bone just make this sentence so wonderfully done along with the countless others in this piece. And your ending was phenomenal and caught me by surprise. It was haunting and perfectly fit the prompt. I reread this piece once I finished it to really soak in the details and your beautiful writing.
    Amazing job and keep writing! This was incredible:)

    over 1 year ago