Cloudy

United States of America

I am a Genderfluid person that is on the autism spectrum. I normally have a very Harsh and Indifferent view of the world that may be shown in some of the prompts I write. I write when I am in pain, unfeeling, or when I have a slight view of a memory.

Message from Writer

"mental state who she?"
"I'm gay, what of it?"
"I have no sanity to question."
"How all you people diddly done doing this fine evening/morning."
"What's up frickers I'm here and I'm queer."

Published Work

Sometimes

Sometimes I wish to save the sky
Not for the people that lie underneath but for simply the sky and the land
Of ridding the world of what harms it and simply letting it be
Of ridding myself from this world

Sometimes I long for the stars
Of each one to their own uniqueness
Even as tears prick in my eyes from the closest and so dearly familiar star
I long to be up higher within the grasp of the stars and become one of them

Sometimes I am a prince
Gallantly moving along to find my princess
To claim her as mine as would be my right
To know my path of adventure even within the safety of royalty

Sometimes I am a princess
Longing for my lover to come for me as was planned
For the surprise of seeing them crest the hill to my tower
Knowing to give up power to another is what is expected of...

Open Prompt

This Poison Love of Mine

I watch my memories from afar as if they do not belong to me
A kiss within a crowded hall
Her running the first moment she gets
Me calling out to her with an ecstatic voice
She doesn't look back
A Chance
a change for a single chance
Joy fills me and I can't help but smile 
Pulled from the repreive of blankness and emptiness by a single action
I come out into the hall early to make sure I see her pass
I ask her over and over again
"Why?"
I have a hope
"Why did you do that?"
I have a dream
"Why luv?"
I can almost reach it
Is she accepting me
She only smiles and walks to her next class
I am so happy
Then she emails me
"I will tell you why if you meet me"
I push aside my responsibilities and I don't see her
I contact her and she comes for me
We...

The pink strip #His-Story-Contest

    My breath hitches in my throat as I look over at the lines and lines of bone dead dead people watching us. Stripped over my clothes tears run down my face. I look to the guards. "I'm not a jew." Screams someone int he line behind me and I look to the ground. We're not here for being Jewish. The Jews watch us as we are handed uniforms. Some of their eyes hold pity and others hold disgust. Those who know what we are. I didn't want to be this. It isn't my choice to be this. I put on the striped clothes hastily and yet I can still feel harsh wind blowing through my willowy form. The form that I know will grow thinner and soon burn. I try to rip myself out of the line and the bruises on my legs line up on after another. I watch my hair fall to the ground as it is shaved...

3:00 change

Two's are perfect
They are simple
Numbers that can be split evenly move down this beautiful number
unlike threes
I particularly don't like three's
They hang down there in the rickety hated numbers just slightly above the ever hating seven
but then a change happened
It happened with a big boom and then everything came down after it

The second to last day of winter break.
It was three in the morning
I had been dropping hints to her all evening
Setting myself into a trap even as I dreaded her finding out
We were finally alone
My sister was asleep at this late late sleepover
We talked about our desires
about the silence of the robots who reside in the world
about the screaming of others inside of our heads
I still dropped hints and she told me she had gotten it
human body heat disgusts me but when she hugged me I clutched her back as if the...

The world ended on a Tuesday

Spotlight opens right behind you as if illuminating someone else.
You: The world ended on a Tuesday
    Spotlight swirls around until it finds you standing there with your hands on your hips)
You:Not a special day, or even a relaxing day like a weekend or a Friday, but a Tuesday.
(Run a hand through your hair)
You: Yup the entire world just got up and ended. Why it was a Tuesday, I don't know or even care to know. How did it end?
    (Dramatic pause)
You: Now THAT'S a question worth thinking about. The world had started this boring a** Tuesday just like any other boring a** Tuesday would start. With the world Damning us all.
    (Start pacing with the spotlight working with you)
You: So I woke up and got ready for work, or whatever f*****g thing I needed to do that seemed important that morning. Now the day had gone by normally, which pretty much...

how many times

how many times do you have to hear screams 
that even the smallest  e c h o  of a whisper is too loud

how many times do you have to break down
that fear is now your only comfort in a world seemingly  a l w a y s  out of place

how many times do you have to be blamed
that there is no use being  i n n o c e n t

how many times do you have to cry
that the  t e a r s  do not come anymore

how many times do you have to bruise
that you no longer can see you skin without  m a r k s

how many times do you have to keep following the order
that nothing is as  b e a u t i f u l  as it once was














                                                                                        countless