MarianaG

United States of America

Published Work

She

    She reappears in my dreams tonight.
    The usual French braid she loves to wear falls over one of her shoulders, dealing with the abundant golden silk threads she possesses while resembling the pure aura that always follows her. Her shift white dress swirls lightly with every step she takes, and the ray lights that illuminate her path favor her tone painted by the sun, as her skin becomes the most beautiful painting among all. Her sedulous chiseled hands reach out, inviting temptation to outstand the electric touch she causes by sending waves of energy with the soft pressure of her fingertips. Her light pink lips mirror her heart-shaped smile, driving a winter breeze that blows our entire surroundings, freezing a moment for just the two of us to exist. She is perfection made in flesh.
    You whisper her name as you come closer, being pulled by the gravity of her presence. Not my name, never my name.
    Not in reality,...

Alexithymia

Many myriad nights ago
    ーwhen the moon beamed its light in lowー
I was once able to dream surrounded by an idyllic mist,
and knowing oneself felt at ease
    ーI knew of sensations I could seizeー
yielding to euphoria befell as simple as exist.

I still remember the elysian touch you carried,
    the soft hint of warmth, the pulling pressure in my heart;
yet now lies the soothing morphine buried.

Once a weary winter came without warning
    ーthe sweetness faded by morningー
erasing asthenic attempts of rendezvous,
then the allure ran out in my veins
    ーperchance I only knew stomach painsー
when oblivion left nothing but rue.

I still wonder if every moment was simple slough,
    for words grew null, bright eyes became dim and dull;
fantasies we folded are not longer pathetic enough.

Yet the midnight emerges ethereal with a paradox
    ーthat drive thwarting the end of our talksー
I convinced myself of faking to avoid aversive
at the...

Book Review Competition 2019

The Body

“The most important things are the hardest things to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them.”
    The inevitable transition from childhood to adulthood happens in different manifestations for every person. For some, maturity arrives with high school, moving to a new city, the loss of a loved one, or the realization that parents aren’t perfect. For others, the journey of growing up comes with an adventure in look for a corpse.
    While achieving to intrigue the reader’s attention since the first page, the novella The Body by Stephen King thrives in tracing what being a kid means. The book seizes the nostalgia that comes when recalling one’s past, and dives into the knowledge that society’s greatest growth moment can not be narrated in its prominence. The Bodyis aware of how, for a child, at one moment the world seems to belong to them to later lay its whole weight in their shoulders. The...

Book Review Competition 2019

The Body

    “The most important things are the hardest things to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them.”
    The inevitable transition from childhood to adulthood happens in different manifestations for every person. For some, maturity arrives with high school, moving to a new city, the loss of a loved one, or the realization that parents aren’t perfect. For others, the journey of growing up comes with an adventure in look for a corpse.
    With a peculiar concept that achieves to steal the reader's attention since the first page, the novella The Body by Stephen King thrives in tracing what being a kid means. Seizing the nostalgy that comes while recalling the past, the book dives into the knowledge that society’s greatest wake up point into reality results impossible to detail in its eminence. The Bodyis aware of how, for a child, at one moment the world seems to belong to them to later lay its...