creation has begun to disappear on me. the world has broadened of late, spinning on into infinity and permitting new complications in the form of ideas, spilling over from a dozen new stashes and chaotically organized. my mind has grown cluttered, temperamental: memory has eluded me for some months, holding back numerous actions from me… Continue reading out of reach (400)
Flash Fiction July, 6 She begins chaos one wintry morning. It's derived from boredom more than anything else, and it's a tribute to how much else she has tried to do and failed, seeking amusement as she always does. It begins not with a bang but with a whimper, a story of someone digging the… Continue reading Creation Becomes Chaos
build up a story-tower, weave it into being with words and magic. hold it together with love and hope, chase it up with creation for the sake of it. scrawl across a mirror in lipstick a profession of delight; lift and assemble every piece of masonry yourself. (feel the ache as muscles pull and develop their own… Continue reading power, 1.2 (150)
shatter crockery, put a brick through your failed attempts at stained glass. carefully, now - meticulous; tweeze every piece from the ground. countless tiny shards glitter under harsh sunlight, seeming to multiply. sort them by colour, quick - before you fall victim to tricks of the light. prepare the surface with the due diligence of… Continue reading countless + orderly
lay down your weary head and sleep. tonight is the night that the sleeping draft works its way through your veins, bringing you out of your waking troubles. (tomorrow is the day it will lift, leaving you too foggy to contemplate issues anew) flutter through the days in a haze of consciousness, drifting through meetings on… Continue reading creation of an isolation (300)
dance in a tempest: glass, glittering in the air. suspended then falling. clatter of broken items breaking (further) is so deafening. -and darling, this isn't a break you can unbreak. if you are not careful, you may end up rebreaking it. windows, blown inwards - diamond shower, cursed with red and purple. breathe me in, cast… Continue reading NaPoWriMo 28 (stolen from creation)
the night is young, wild; tonight i have freedom to do as i please. create or destroy my only instruction. electricity thrums through the air, my veins - endless possibility. i'll do both.