First Name Last Name

United States

||she/them or whatever||
||16 (almost 17)||
||my writing style is run-on sentences and too many commas||
||simmering rage is what i am||
||but in the end, we all burn out like cigarettes||

Message from Writer

yall are nice
im stayn here
WHY IS EVERYONE SO YOUNGGG (AND SO TALENTEDD)

u h h prepare yourself for me spamming weird writing a lot

bro-rder! bro-rder in the court!
so first a guy named spider got wacked

weird info things :3
ravenclaw, dumb biotch, @ss and Arson Inc, Clone high, Umbrella academy, IDKHBTFM, sherlock holmes, Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, penelope scott, gay af, b r o k e, a lgbtia podcast in the works, a book also in the works, worm on a string, finger guns and flannels

i joined uh dec 2nd 2020 so thats cool
im back after a short little break from writing!

Please check out my work called "Noris" Im very proud of it!!

Published Work

i eat people

i eat people
i rip tear them to shreds with my teeth
in order to chew them up eat eat eat
wondering if your heart beats

i eat people
as self-defense because would kill me first
so they can't get me if they are in the ground in my stomach

i eat people i tear them to shred with my words teeth hands my soul in pieces very very sharp ill stab your heart because you broke mine 

isn't this what love is?
consuming, biting each other till theres nothing left, a twisted mess of anger and tenderness, ripping each other open to see whats left after going through hell, together, alone, 

reduced to animals

reduced to cannibals

is this primitive or something new,
i learned to be mean from you
if you must destroy me, do it slowly so i can stare in your eyes
is it my fault im like this or is it in my genes
what...

a little comfort piece

The comforting smell of pie crust interrupted her thoughts. Lillian was standing in front of her, hands in her apron, fingers searching for something that hid there. No words were exchanged while Lillian lowered herself to the ground and sat next to Adeline, and extended her hand, three ripe blackberries sitting in her palm. Adeline took the fruit, slowly chewing one and savoring the tart and sweet flavors. The world felt less shaky now, the room felt a little brighter. The two of them sat on the floor and ate blackberries, and life was alright in that moment.

Pie Crust pt. 1 (unfinished)

Through the doorway, he could see her looking through the window, her back facing him. Except, she wasn't really looking through the window, she was staring at the curtains that hung there. They were very ugly curtains, and she hoped that if she examined every thread and stitch of the fabric, her voice wouldn't break, and her hands wouldn't shake. He was going to speak first. He always did, and she was waiting for him to say what she knew he was going to say.

“I’ve,”

“I’ve come to ask you if you’ll try again, this time I know we can do it,”

“I’ve come to ask you if you’ll try again.”

She waited for him to finish, but he said nothing more. Mentally, she remarked that as strange. He was like an actor, always sticking to a script. If he deviated from his usual, that must mean something. Or maybe not. Turning her head towards him, she thought that...

Noris (The First Two Stories- Noris and The Project)

NORIS



    He sat across from the machine, its lights and screens blinking softly. Lightly tapping his pen on the clipboard that sat on his lap, he thought of driving home, of the dinner and wife and bed that waited for him there.
But first, the machine.
The clipboard.
The questions.

He cleared his throat, not because it needed to be cleared but because he wanted to...
Because he wanted to do what?

Let the machine know he was about to speak?

He knew that the machine was listening closely, he had heard the gossip in the break room.

"Listen, I'm telling you, it likes talking to people, it likes attention. It's like, like some kind of weird dog. Y'know?"

Clicking his pen, paper at the ready, he said

"Hello, Noris."

The name came from a wise-cracking head scientist. Her dog was named Noris, so why not name the machine after it. It was her life's work, after all.
A...

Love Letter 1

I love you like a friend
and I love you like a lover

I love you like how the earth spins around the sun, always facing her
I love you like the sun loves earth's surface, bringing light to every corner
I love you like how a reader loves their favorite book
I love you like how the author loves the last page of their novel
I love you like how the plants love the ground
I love you like how two hands fit together
I love you like how my body loves a resting place after a long day
I love you like how an artist loves their work
I love you like how an artist loves their muse
I love you like how a child loves wondrous new things
I love you like how comforting and warm a routine can be
I love you like how the city loves the light of a million lightbulbs
I love you...

Playlist Reviews

                                               ----Playlist Reviews----


Homage by Mild High Club
        "And if you want a piece of my thoughts
        There's a coin worth flipping
        Why don't you toss?"

Feels like a modern Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds, short but sweet, with wonderful ambiance noises and a singer's voice that sounds like it's so close yet far. A song to listen to when in the car while its raining, to slip away into memory.

Kids by MGMT
        "The memories fade like looking through a fogged mirror
        Decision to decisions are made and not bought
        But I thought this wouldn't hurt a lot, I guess not"

Nostalgic. Powerful. Amazing. Makes me think and cry with such a limited amount of lyrics. Reminds me of a song that I heard in my childhood, but I can't remember what it was....

on the topic of "religion"

No, I don't want to hear about god.
any god.
I don't need religion in my life
I don't need to be saved, I'm quite fine by myself

it's not the "reason for the season"
you stole this holiday

oh, I'm going to hell?
just because I'm gay?

people wonder why when I see religion
my first feeling is not a happy one

I've seen behind the scenes
children having nightmare scared of what they've been told
stolen things being proudly displayed in the Vatican
all the people burned, stoned, shunned, and killed

and for what?
why?

give me a reason

don't preach at me
about how my life is wrong
I don't yell at you in the streets

I won't say the pledge of allegiance and I won't capitalize god.
you can fight me if you want
I don't care

fear-mongering much?
manipulation much?

you aren't better than me because 
"you found god"
we are both human

rules, rules,...

The Project (Prequel to Noris)

She had worked her way up the system. Sure, it was hard, and yeah she had to deal with some a-holes, but she was doing what she loved. 
Or at least she used to.

They used to experiment and create for the advancement of science. To solve problems. 

"Solving Tomorrow's Problems, Today."

That was the sign outside the building that she had spent so many hours of her life inside.
She doesn't know if she regrets it. Working, making her entire life work. It used to be different though.

She used to be in the lab, getting her hands dirty, working along with the "leaders of tomorrow".
And then she got promoted. Got a raise.

Nothing changed then, other than she was able to relax a little more when each month the rent was due.

So when the higher-ups told her that she could get promoted again, she gladly accepted.

and again
and again
and so on.

Each rung of...

March Grab Bag

ever

  • an acrostic poem (in which each letter spells out a word or phrase) with your username (by BriRiley)
Forever, forever you said
I will wait for you
Reaching for you
Searching for you
Time doesn't matter
Never did, never will
Always I am yours
Moving 
Ever nearer to you

Lost
Are we falling apart?
So far, too far
Time will tell
Never, never
Are we falling apart?
Me and you
Ever together or forever alone?
 

Hanged Men (sung to the tune of Wellerman)

(CHORUS 1, all sing)
Tie us a noose
the executioner comes
they still think that we are dumb
the rich get richer and the poor get dead 
mothers and children living on a thread
they don't got much but what they got
is wanted by the fat cat's lot
they think that this is the end
and I'm one of the hanged men

(ALT. CHORUS, half sing)
Take me down to the hanging tree
The poor are scared and the rich are free
Take me down off the hanging tree

(VERSE 1, one person)
Oh, I am hanged man because I stole
a piece of bread and a lump of coal
but now I'm not hungry and I'm cold no more
because I'm one of the hanged men

(ALT. CHORUS, half sing)
Take me down to the hanging tree
The poor are scared and the rich are free
Take me down off the hanging tree

(VERSE 2, one person)
Oh,...

Hanged Men (sung to the tune of Wellerman)

(CHORUS 1)
Tie us a noose
the executioner comes
they still think that we are dumb
the rich get richer and the poor get dead 
mothers and children living on a thread
they don't got much but what they got
is wanted by the fat cat's lot
they think that this is the end
and I'm one of the hanged men

(VERSE 1)
Oh, I am hanged man because I stole
a piece of bread and a lump of coal
but now I'm not hungry and I'm cold no more
because I'm one of the hanged men

(ALT. CHORUS)
Take me down to the hanging tree
The poor are scared and the rich are free
Take me down off the hanging tree

(VERSE 2)
Oh, I am a hanged man because I couldn't pay
my taxes and rent on the right day
they took my house
they took my land
but now I live with the hanged men

(CHORUS 2) ...

Noris

He sat across from the machine, its lights and screens blinking softly. Lightly tapping his pen on the clipboard that sat on his lap, he thought of driving home, of the dinner and wife and bed that waited for him there.
But first, the machine.
The clipboard.
The questions.

He cleared his throat, not because it needed to be cleared but because he wanted to...
Because he wanted to do what?
Let the machine know he was about to speak?
He knew that the machine was listening closely, he had heard the gossip in the break room.

"Listen, I'm telling you, it likes talking to people, it likes attention. It's like, like some kind of weird dog. Y'know?"

Clicking his pen, paper at the ready, he said
"Hello, Noris."

The name came from a wise-cracking head scientist. Her dog was named Noris, so why not name the machine after it. It was her life's work, after all.

A brief whirring...

the cul-de-sac kids

we are the cul-de-sac kids
neighbors, friends, brothers, sisters
spending our summer days 
doing whatever

who all lives on the cul-de-sac?

well, there's me
of course
I'm usually the oldest
but because I'm the only girl I always get stuck with the youngest

who's that?

the youngest is an only child and he
can be very difficult
he's scared of my brother's friends
because he looks up to them

and what about your brother?

he is,
difficult
and bossy, and yells a lot
he doesn't come out much unless our next-door neighbor comes out

tell me about them, will you?

well, he is kind of the ringleader
my brother and the youngest look up to him
without him, most times things will just fall apart

anyone else?

there are a brother and a sister
but they don't come out anymore
the sister died
she had cancer
and their family isn't safe around covid

that's sad

yes, it is

isn't there...

love is like a fire

love is like a fire

we were young, so young
your dad was the coach of our tee-ball team
we weren't any good at the game and it didn't matter
the end of the season party was at your house
we hid under a table and you kissed me
you moved away to new york not long after

love is like a fire
this one was small
like the first time a child makes a campfire
new, wonderous, warm
but shortlived


love is like a fire

the awkwardness of middle school didn't stop me from liking you
we were both in art class
you were everything i wanted to be
but i also wanted to sneak secret kisses with you in the corners of hallways
you had a lot of boyfriends but
i wanted to be your girlfriend

love is like a fire
this one was illuminating
like a candle held up against a dark room
showing the way but...

monster under the bed, monster in the white van

itsallwrongitsallwrongitsallwrongitsallwrongitsallwrongitsallwrongitsallwrongitsallwrongitsallwrongitsallwrongitsallwrongits

somethings not right here

the room is dark and you tiptoe towards a lamp but somethings
off
careful not to make any sound because everyone's asleep cant wake them up 
now with the light 
everything seems okay but you know that you have to eventually go back to the darkness and be afraid to open your eyes 
because 
something
might be there watching you leaning over you reaching out its hand towards you and you can't hide or run you just lay there

you hear a 
noise
downstairs and you are sure it is a serial killer or a robber maybe someone left the door unlocked and they came in and now they are coming upstairs and you hope that your death will be 
quick
you don't want to be in too much pain and you wonder when they will find your body bloody on your bed a scream on your face and the people in the newspaper will...

no

pretentious pretentious pretentious.
my words are not summertime or flowers
nor the night sky and coffee

no my words are the cracking of a bone as it hits the ground
and the scrape of gravel and against gravel
the smell of rotting things deep in the forest
biting your cheek accidentally and the taste of blood
the white starkness of a hospital being broken up by human colors of whatever we are made of

my words are not pretty
because they are not refined and i do not hold them in any esteem
i do not plan i do not 
write
i throw up and show my insides for the world to see and say 
"look? what do you think? are you disgusted yet? do you feel something?"

my writing is the freakshow of the modern century, the bottom of the barrel of human existence
for onlookers to gasp and gape at
and later say, oh well im glad im...

no

pretentious pretentious pretentious.
my words are not summertime or flowers
nor the night sky and coffee

no my words are the cracking of a bone as it hits the ground
and the scrape of gravel and against gravel
the smell of rotting things deep in the forest
biting your cheek accidentally and the taste of blood
the white starkness of a hospital being broken up by human colors of whatever we are made of

my words are not pretty
because they are not refined and i do not hold them in any esteem
i do not plan i do not 
write
i throw up and show my insides for the world to see and say 
"look? what do you think? are you disgusted yet? do you feel something?"

my writing is the freakshow of the modern century, the bottom of the barrel of human existence
for onlookers to gasp and gape at
and later say, oh well im glad im...

I'm cynical for a reason.

its bad karma to wish death upon people? to wish harm?

i don't care! send alllll the bad karma my way! i don't care
you with your "oh i don't do that, im better than you, i have better morals"
fuck you

let me be angry
i am sick and tired of not being allowed to be angry

I should have said no?
I should have blocked him?
I should have walked away?
I should have been the bigger person?
I should wear this, don't do that?

no
no i don't think i fucking will

let me be bitter and angry and tired

did it ever occur to you i might have a reason to feel that way?

pain will come to you and i will laugh

i don't need to have feelings according to you.
icantchoose to be happy

god 

god i hate you all

let me be

leave me alone and stop


did it ever occur to you,...

i have teeth that tear

i feel so much quiet anger
i want to lash out because the others that should be punished have not been, and my words have been misunderstood
it hurts. to have something you are proud of. be burned.
i want revenge
revengerevengerevenge
thewordsblurtogetherasitypeitdoesntmatterwhatisay
it all
sounds the same
its a calm anger calculating like a dangerous animal on my shoulder whispering for when i should strike
you all
strike 1? 2? 3?
will you can you get rid of me
erase me you try 
is this the anger that fuels art or that fuels a spiralofamagnitudenotseenbefore
i am angry is it because it is an insult or the misunderstanding
 aha
i shall rip apart my dreams with my bloody canines smiling all the while the life-giving fluids of my future drain onto the carpet leaving a stain
cannibal? no
i hunt for fun, you 
you are tiny
you should fear me
likeifearmyselfithinkwevegonetoolongnowovertheedge
the rapid
running 
catchcatchhuntcatchit to f e e...

another title for myself!

polyamory-(from Greek πολύ poly, "many", and Latin amor, "love") is the practice of, or desire for, intimate relationships with more than one partner, with the informed consent of all partners involved. It has been described as "consensual, ethical, and responsible non-monogamy".

is it strange that i want something different sometimes?

is it strange that i think that i can love more than one?

but its not like i feel more pulled towards either 



Ambiamorous people are flexible in their preferences and do not have a very strong preference either way. They are able to live happily and comfortably in both types of relationship-structures.



oh.

i guess that's me.

cool!
 

airplane

She stared out of the window and she realized how small she was, really, in the scheme of things and she started to panic, why do we let ourselves be placated by such simple entertainments such as food and wine, why are we becoming mindless sheep being herded by unseen overlords shielded in smoke, why-

Her thought was cut off by the stewardess asking,
"Is everything alright miss?"

She wanted to scream every thought in her head and tear her hair out, she wanted the woman in a conspicuous yet eye-pleasing uniform to understand exactly what she was feeling.
But instead, she just said quietly,
"I'm fine, thank you."

The stewardess said nothing more and lightly tossed her some small snack wrapped in plastic that would probably end up in some landfill somewhere-

Again, her thought was cut off, but this time by the squeak of the cart that the stewardess methodically rolled down the aisle.
Her train of thought...

the sun is warmer after the winter

take me back to the place where i feel safe

take me home, where i don't feel so alone

oh,
home is with you

oh,
home is when i'm beside you

i promise i'll be there
soon

save a seat for me
please

i know its been a long time since i've been able to hold
you

but just close your eyes
and i'm right there
with you

i'll be there soon

the gifted kid who burned their potential in order to prolong their childhood (or) my pastime is knowledge

i like patterns, always have
back when i was a kid, sitting in the mild darkness before bed, waiting for my parents to come into my room and wish me goodnight 
(depending on how old i was sometimes the sun would be still clinging to the sky, making it impossible to sleep)
and i would look for triangles because the way my door was against the doorframe it made quite a few 
once i found every one i would hold my hand up and make some more 
tiling my head trying to find every angle and every perspective
triangles are the strongest shape
i remember that from every time i went to the science museum
that was more of a home to me than my childhood house
i made a game of adding numbers 
the numbers of the time
on the clock
anagrams are my favorite because i'm the worst at them
i don't know enough words to  do them...

crumbling to pieces in the absence of you

i could lose myself in you and i think have
but you pull away
taking me
and my happiness
along

which is farther, the distance from my house to your house
the distance between our messages
or distance between us
when we used to be so close

every night we spent talking
every secret call
all those inside jokes
those moments when we lingered in each others company, 
not wanting to part
but knowing we had to go

we had so many plans for the future
i let you in on the secrets held in my mind
and you told me things you didn't even know about yourself
you were the one person i trusted to hold me

why are you leaving?
i guess ill never ask you
because every message is seen
but i doubt that it is heard

i've had my share of heartbreak and pain
but, my dear,
this is different
this isn't my heart, breaking.
this...

crumbling to pieces in the absence of you

i could lose myself in you and i think have
but you pull away
taking me
and my happiness
with you

which is farther, the distance from my house to your house
the distance between our messages
or distance between us
when we used to be so close

why are you leaving?
i guess ill never ask you
because every message is seen
but i doubt that it is heard

i've had my share of heartbreak and pain
but, my dear,
this is different
this isn't my heart, breaking.
this is my heart
being ripped from my chest
being crushed
being frozen
being alone

and yet this pain isn't your fault,
this is the eventual crawl of time
everything must fall
apart
i thought our bond could last
i guess not

maybe we can fix this
maybe when i see you again,
the clouds will lift
and things will go back
to how they were

but nothing is sure
nothing...

identity crisis?

if i cover my skin in ink
i will no longer be me
will i finally be comfortable here?
will i not look in disgust at my own reflection?
make myself a drawing
recreation of what i am

in 7 years all my cells will be different
every day i am changing and evolving
but yet i remain the same 
nothing happens, yet i change
how can be something be stagnant and moving

i can't tell the difference between reality and my dreams
what is a real memory, they aren't real?

zoning out is my permanent state
reality is on the back-burner
as a defense mechanism

~everyday is a nightmare~

January 28, 2020
had an appointment with my therapist, it was completely pointless (as usual)
I'm so tired, can i be let back into the family again?

*aggressively dances to panic! at the disco during art class instead of doing late work for english*

i was so stressed earlier
now im not
what the heck
are the feeling i am feeling fake
or am i really good at suppressing them

my therapist is not prepared for the layers of 
issues i have 
sorry lady you signed up for more than you can handle
lol

they are upping my meds
like i give a 
f*ck
i still have to do stupid shit like
school
and capitialism
does it matter if im sad or not

 

i know you like the back of my hand

my hands aren't very pretty
they are bony
and always covered in ink and scars
my fingernails are never even
and often have chipped black nail polish spattering them
my palms are soft but covered in calluses 
my knuckles are almost always scratched
and a faded tattoo of an eye sits on the back of my left hand
when im nervous i bite the skin on my fingertips 
so they are uneven
and sometimes they bleed

sometimes i snort when i laugh
and my hair is never brushed
my eyeliner isn't even

he still says im pretty
because
im me

i can't wait to hold your hand

our relationship is well worn
the lines traced over and over again
not out of madness 
but out of familiarity
like your favorite trail you walk every day
but yet it never gets boring
its never the same
ever-changing
ever-evolving
going into the future
confident enough to keep living
because we know we...

the world is ending and i have to sit in class

i don't want to live here anymore
i have to pay to keep living
i have to get a job ill hate and live unhappily

my plan was to go to art college
because i love art
i don't want to be in student debt

water falls from the sky and yet people still die of thirst
it is just an accepted fact
it shouldn't be the norm

im filled with anger at every unfair thing in the world
my parents say i dont get to be jaded because i have an easy life
im still angry

why is healthcare so expensive?
if you cant pay for it they just let you die
i hate it here

sure, america is ok
well actually it isn't
we live on stolen land, there is systematic racism, homelessness is through the roof, the government is pandering to companies, people are starving and the government spends all its money on military equipment so they...

i fall in love with people at the airport

i like to think that i will become the kind of person that i would be entranced by
let me explain
i hope to look strange enough to spark interest in my brain, to wonder where this person came from
i wonder what their name is
what are they doing here?
where are they going?
do they like coffee? or do they prefer a cup of tea?
i would admire their makeup
or maybe their clothes
and i would wish 
"dang, i wish i was cool as them"
because as soon as i look in the mirror and realize that
i
would want to me
i am finally happy.


watching strangers is like a kind of star watching
because they are so far and distant, yet you can see them
you can be there, in the background, in a moment of their lives
watch them buy a coffee, or laugh with a friend
maybe make eye contact for a moment ...

silver lining

we are broken together
all of my friends
(my found family, my chosen kin)
we take all the broken shards of our lives and rebuild them into something new, glittering, and beautiful
we all have something that hurts us and makes us cry in front of the mirror, something that haunts us when we turn the corner into a dark room
and yet we find solace in each other

it means the world to me
they mean the world to me

oh, the broken shards will cut you, be careful where you fall

you stare at the mirror and the reflection of a person in it.
that is you, you know that, and you know you know that reflection is you.
its a fact just like gravity or the sun setting.
but you can't help to notice the way,
that your face seems more drawn like you have been scrunching your brows together quite a bit and now that facial expression has stuck.
and your eyes well, they seem more tired.
been doing a lot of searching these days? 
thinking too much?

you shake your head as if it is some complicated etch-a-sketch with an unsatisfactory drawing,
trying to clear and compartmentalize your brain.
out of muscle memory, out of routine, you reach your hand up to absentmindedly push away your hair from your face.
you had forgotten.
remember? you started styling your hair so it stayed out of your face, started brushing it for once,
it makes you look more grown-up, y'know?
I...

my dear

my dear,
you are my favorite color

the color of
the sky before a spring rainstorm
the color of
the sea when you are in the window seat on an airplane
the color of
my favorite sweatshirt
the color of
everything i love

and every time i see it i think of you
(it is all the time at this point, it's really quite a habit)

how am i supposed to explain my smile to my parents at the dinner table
or in the car
or at the grocery store
because they don't know how i feel

about you
my dear

i would give you anything and everything
but i don't have much
so i will give you all of my time
all of my love
i will give my ear
to listen to your problems
i will give you advice
and jokes when they are needed
i will give you a shoulder to lean on
and a hand to...

fickle thing

oh you,
fickle little thing.
you say you hate me,
yet you won't leave me,
you don't push me away
far enough.
i always come back,
you cant scrub me off your skin.
i make you cry
in the shower
water hotter
and hotter
and 
hotter,
hands and feet red. 

you fear me.
i can see it in your eyes,
the way that you look at me like an enemy,
terrified.
yet you hold my hand
lean on my shoulder.

i make you numb.
standing outside without a coat,
the weather gets,
colder
and colder
and
colder,
fingers blue, lips purple

arent you cold?
someone asks, some concerned friend.
you laugh, in that way of yours
throwing your head back
a soft smile on your lips.

(those lips i never kissed)

no, you say, im not cold,
teeth chattering
i don't feel cold at all.

that's a lie and we both know it.

but why would i care about you? ...

...

the cursor
it mocks
me with
its stare
the empty
paper the
blank white
of not
knowing what
to write
no ideas
is it
writers block
or hesitation
of revealing 
my thoughts
putting them
on paper
i cant
tell the
difference
between
them
so

one thing or another

increasing kinetic energy
snowballing
its a slippery slope
that spiral

an object at rest stays at rest
sitting in your bed staring at the ceiling 
procrastinating homework
no will to do anything

unless acted upon by an outside force

an object in motion stays in motion
staying up as late as you can
starting a million projects

train of thought derailed constantly
unless acted upon by an outside force
 
a life of extremes is often destructive

increasing kinetic energy


the spiral

the subtext of nicknames

wow

you said that my nickname for you
you said that you liked it better

than your real name
that it felt more

you

i cried when you said that

(in a good way i told you)
(you were concerned)


i feel the same way as you do
about the nicknames

hearing you say your nickname for me for the first time
out loud

was
euphoric

in text the sentiment was diluted
sun-bleached by the stark whiteness of the screen

but your face
your goddamn face

when you said it for the first time
i somehow melted but also flew

jesus christ
hazel



i think
  I might
    love you





it would be hard not to
 

the fall

take my voice
im giving it though
i dont feel safe at all
i cant trust the fall


he almost never turned his camera on when we called
and even if he did
all i could see was a black screen
he always wanted me to turn my camera on
i never wanted to
i did anyway
distracting myself with video games
or tilting the camera away from myself
he never talked about himself
or what he felt
or what he thought
he talked about what he wanted from me
being used

this is a different feeling

you turned your camera on first 
because i was uncomfortable with turning mine on
at first we were out of practice talking to each other
we went from always talking to practically not talking
but then we found the cadence again
with more nervous laughter than before maybe
but we found it
you talked about things
about yourself
about your childhood
and i...

impulse strike

you swim in murky water
you all laugh at me
i hear you moving around
side-eye looks and whispered conversations
i dont know what you are
just keep walking
but i dont care
walk to class
i have sharp teeth
just get past them
i will destroy you
just ignore them
strike. them. down.

and swim away into the depths



they will know your name.

Portal

    What happened in those woods?
    What made four people disappear?
    Then appear 5 years later?
    There are many theories.
    Here is the REAL story.

a random mildly scary writing

Three years ago, on this very night, there was a murder. It was a baffling murder, one that went unsolved. It involved a middle-aged man named William. He was living alone and was just like everyone else. But one day, a mysterious package was sent to his house. It had no return address, no stamps, no information. That night no one saw any lights at his house. No one thought anything of it. The next day was the same. Four days it went on like this. The authorities started to get interested. When they went up to his door there was a sickly smell about the place. The door was unlocked and when they opened it they were greeted with a sight they would never forget. William, lying dead with his eyes wide open in shock, staring at the opened box. It contained nothing. To this day we do not know what happened. And this is the room where it...

late night conversations

we stayed up so many nights talking
way into the morning
about everything and anything
you wished me happy birthday when you werent supposed to
but because you did you got your phone taken away
so you had your computer
and you typed as quietly as you could
you listened and replied
even when you werent available i texted you anyway
most of the time we werent texting each at the same time
just leaving notes
now we email
rarely 
but every word is wonderful
you said
sorry we dont talk as much 
its okay
knowing you are okay
is enough
i mean yeah it sucks
but this is survivable
and we will get through this
ill see you again 
and then
(and as you said)
we will sigh a breath of relief on each other's shoulders

until then,




check your fucking email hazel

lose my breath

i dont wanna be your friend
i want to lose my breath
can i lay my head on your chest?
i dont wanna be your friend
i want to lose my breath
walk me to my next class?
i dont wanna be your friend
i want to lose my breath
you were my first kiss
i dont wanna be your friend
i want to lose my breath
i could taste your lips
i dont wanna be your friend
i want to lose my breath

we are just friends

right?

i dont wanna be your friend
i want to lose my breath
we make jokes
i dont wanna be your friend
i want to lose my breath
implied subtext
i dont wanna be your friend
i want to lose my breath
too long hugs
i dont wanna be your friend
i want to lose my breath

i wanna be more than friends

i want to hold you close and take naps...

A Letter I Will Never Send To You pt. 2

i remember
i remember when we worked on that group project
we never stayed on task didnt we
i remember being out in the cold
i was wearing a green sweatshirt and my blue jacket
i remember it starting to snow
you asked if i was cold
i remember we were trying to figure out why my phone had no sound
my hands were shaking, but i told you i wasnt cold
i wish i was still back then
back when you were good
and nice
kind
do you change or did i finally see you for what you were
or maybe it was me who was
the bad one
the rotten apple
we will never know
maybe you hate me
i remember you said that you would never leave
liar.
 

48 Hours

Alex breathed heavily, knowing that he had only one chance to save the world from an uncontrollable assassin, but he didn't know who she was or what she was capable of.
“We are here, sir.” said the chauffeur.
Alex grabbed his invitation to the masquerade ball and prepared himself for what would lie ahead of him. He wore a black suit and red tie with a solid black mask that only covered the top of his face.
“Invitation please?” said the security guard.
Alex handed the invitation to him. The guard checked the list, which Alex knew didn’t have his real name, nodded, and opened the huge mahogany doors. 
When he walked in, Alex tried to stay calm. There were so many people, all of them wearing masks, that it was like a sea of humanity. Except this sea was eating little sandwiches and drinking champagne. Now, he had to locate a master of disguise in a huge room full...

Theatre Monologue

MC: sisters! pay attention! we are in the city! There are a million possibilities in front of us, a million things we could be! how dare you confine yourself into that box society has given you. Fly beyond it, break the box, become more than what they expect of you. we are in the city, away from our parents, away from our small town, with all of our lives in front of us. There is nothing we can't do because there isn't anyone that can stop us! Why I am going to be a writer! Yes, me,  a female writer, surprising to you for some reason. you could be, say, a model! a baker! an artist! quite anything you dream shall solidify in the city because anyone can be anything! However, we are on our own, so do not think this will not be difficult. do not think that there won’t be hardships, do not think there won’t be times...

Attention

That's what i get for being the easy child in this world of sound no one pays attention to the silent mime i both love and hate the limelight its bitter its sweet its my kind of lie there's this radio in my head spewing gibberish people are surprised by the words they need to understand its always been like this I want to be the favorite child I want to be the ringleader I want to fly but i want to be a sheep but these ideas wont let me sleep escape artist running from reality going cold turkey

Stack Of Sticky Notes

I don't know I guess I wish that we didn't ever really have to live like this, evolving backwards, back to the sea, burning the literary classics on my bedroom floor You wanna meet God? Go to church or jump off a bridge that's the express lane when you hit the road up there and down here, up here and down here and Behold! it be but Juliet but she loves me nevermore so I sink 20,000 leagues underneath the concrete river with library books in my pockets and I'm surrounded by chimpanzee writing plays while I'm just throwing my own shit around and I guess we all find balance on this trapeze but lately I've been falling, falling down the rabbit hole, into the wormhole feelings stretching out between all the lives and lies I'm living more like dying but its all just daydreams of the universe I dream more at nights when its quiet with all the typewriters...

nicest person to ever happen to me

you threw me up at the ceiling because i wanted to touch it
and then i fell on my ass
you apologised for hours
i thought it was funny
you gave me a calligraphy set
it had a yearbook picture of you and some other miscellaneous stuff in it
i still have it
when you borrowed my headphones you always gave them back
i couldnt tell if i liked you or not
i think i did
yeah i did
we would play tag
i think im still it
you could play guitar
not much but you could
you would play the opening to that one white stripes song
we would stay late in class
messing around, drawing on the board
i had lunch next block but you were always late to your next class
you told me you didnt care
you were best friends with my worst ex
i didnt have the heart to tell you how much of a horrible...

the guy i had a crush on in biology class

dang i wished i talked to you more
you could draw, you were smart
you were in my carpentry class
the teacher liked you, you knew all the answers
i always finished the tests first and then you finished second
we had art together in middle school
i remember the time i was crying under the lab table and you asked if i was ok
i said i was, wiping tears from my face
you paused as if you wanted to say something else
but you didnt
you sat near to me
i remember when i was throwing paper airplanes during class
the teacher didnt care
i was trying to land them on top of the clock
i looked back and you were watching with a hint of a smile on your face
maybe i dont really know you
silly of me to have a crush
you liked strawberries
i think you liked another girl
she was nice
i wonder...

A Letter I Will Never Send To You

i hate you
i hate the way you smile with your eyes when i laugh 
i hate the way you held my hand when i was nervous about presenting in front of the class
i hate the way you overdramtically read romeo and juliet while looking at me and giving me a wink
i hate the way you traced shapes on my thigh absentmindedly
i hate the way you made me laugh
i hate the way you would talk about my eyes
i hate the way you would hug me and let me cry on your shoulder
i hate the way you kissed my scars
i hate the way you didnt like watermelon jolly ranchers and would give them to me
i hate the way you sing badly
i hate the way you fiddled with the back of my necklace when i would nap in class
i hate the way you hold a gituar and softly played songs
i hate...

Bananas of Death

(note- this is a play that i wrote with a group for a school assignment, but its pretty entertaining so i thought that WtW would enjoy it :) enjoy the comedy/tragedy Bananas of Death)




Bananas of Death

Roles
  Frederick William Rumplesnatcher Barbosa II (Alex)
  Leonardo Pufflby Thomas Barbosa III (Christian[Box])
  Queen Mary (Savannah)
  Sister Lucy (Kimberly)

Lucy: It all began three years ago,
[Leonardo (Leo) and Frederick (Fred) enter bickering]
Lucy: These two brothers, Leonardo Pufflby Thomas Barbosa III, and Frederick William Rumplesnatcher Barbosa II were always arguing. Frederick was the oldest and was the heir to the throne. Leonardo was always jealous of his brother.
[Leo leaves angrily with only Fred and Lucy onstage.] [Fred sits down and begins to write a letter]
Lucy: But Frederick was secretly courting a lowly servant girl, “who was not fit for a king.” Leonardo had a vague idea to what was happening, but he could...

Birdsong

hiking paranoia in the fall

crunch
a step
crunch
another step
crunch crunch crunch
you see the path now, you know the way
crunch crunch     
CRUNCH

wait! shh! did you hear that?
crunch crunch crunch crunch-
CRUNCH

there it is again! it sounds big
badump
your heart beats out of your chest
crunch
a tenative step foward, away from the sound
badump
what if its a bear?
badump badump
or a crazy serial killer!
badump badump badump
or some weird terrifying monster??
CRUNCH
oh no
badump
CRUNCH

its behind me now i know it is
badump badump
CRUNCH
i should turn around, even if its the last thing ill do
badump badump badump
CRUNCH 
so this is how i die-
facing the beast now, you peek at the thing that has been stalking you
gasp
a bunny, and nothing more
whewww
you let go of the breath you didnt know you were holding
your heartbeat returns to normal
only the quiet of the...

That Sort of Person

That Kind Of Person

1) Polynesia is the kind of person whose most dangerous parts are not the loud, screaming ones that fight for your attention, but instead the ones that are quiet, and are scheming your demise if you get in her way. 
2) Iris is the kind of person who texts you late at night saying "hey I have a really bad but like, good idea" and you just have to go along with her because you know it will be the adventure of a lifetime, even if in the morning you wake up with one too many bruises. 
3) Adeline is the kind of person who will hear that you are feeling lonely and break down your door to get to you, arms filled with blankets, baked goods, and old movies.
4) Victor is the kind of person who you sit next to in one of your classes, and you are always afraid of him because he just "seems aggressive...

That Sort of Person

That Kind Of Person

1) Polynesia is the kind of person whose most dangerous parts are not the loud, screaming ones that fight for your attention, but instead the ones that are quiet, and are scheming your demise if you get in her way. 
2) Iris is the kind of person who texts you late at night saying "hey I have a really bad but like, good idea" and you just have to go along with her because you know it will be the adventure of a lifetime, even if in the morning you wake up with one too many bruises. 
3) Adeline is the kind of person who will hear that you are feeling lonely and break down your door to get to you, arms filled with blankets, baked goods, and old movies.
4) Victor is the kind of person who you sit next to in one of your classes, and you are always afraid of him because he just "seems aggressive...

That Sort of Person

That Kind Of Person

1) Polynesia is the kind of person whose most dangerous parts are not the loud, screaming ones that fight for your attention, but instead the ones that are quiet, and are scheming your demise if you get in her way. 
2) Iris is the kind of person who texts you late at night saying "hey I have a really bad but like, good idea" and you just have to go along with her because you know it will be the adventure of a lifetime, even if in the morning you wake up with one too many bruises. 
3) Adeline is the kind of person who will hear that you are feeling lonely and break down your door to get to you, arms filled with blankets, baked goods, and old movies.
4) Victor is the kind of person who you sit next to in one of your classes, and you are always afraid of him because he just "seems aggressive...

Pandemic Memoir

The Definition of Insanity

Shower, cereal, computer, meds, sleep, repeat.

YOU in threes

Study Of Self

Three quirks or idiosyncrasies.

1) when I eat a sandwich I flip it, around every other bite. my family usually makes fun of me for it but it's become such a habit, that not doing it seems stupid. 
2) I listen to music. a lot. I don't have one certain type of music I prefer, I will pretty much listen to anything. I like best the kind of music I can memorize the lyrics of. at any point in time, I can be seen lipsyncing along with my music and dancing horribly. 
3) I draw on my hands and on my legs. sometimes it is notes or things to remember. Most likely it is random patterns or drawings. I think the reason is I need to make my skin comfortable to be in, and the best way I can do that is to doodle on it.
 

Three communities to which you belong (these can be unusual).

1) lgbtia+ community
2) ass...