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Literature Text
in that one moment, i wanted to stand up and hit him: i wanted to make him hurt, make him bleed, make him feel what he did to me. make him feel his lies and deceit, push it into his skin like a knife and letting the scarlet lies pour out for everyone to see.
every little lie, every "mia bella" came back to haunt me. every word that idly dripped out of his mouth that caressed and cared for me turned black and shriveled like a dead flower.
because every time he kissed me, he lied.
i can't believe i just let him string me along like that. he just turned me into some sort of flesh-and-blood puppet, tossed me around and stepped on me like garbage put on the curb for tuesday night pickup. he put me in a plastic bag with old coffee grounds and used condoms from a night when i wasn't there.
i should have never loved him.
every little lie, every "mia bella" came back to haunt me. every word that idly dripped out of his mouth that caressed and cared for me turned black and shriveled like a dead flower.
because every time he kissed me, he lied.
i can't believe i just let him string me along like that. he just turned me into some sort of flesh-and-blood puppet, tossed me around and stepped on me like garbage put on the curb for tuesday night pickup. he put me in a plastic bag with old coffee grounds and used condoms from a night when i wasn't there.
i should have never loved him.
Literature
We Only Exist In The Now
Her eyes wide, the girl stood in front of the mirror. Its surface was covered in condensation. Tentatively she reached out and touched the cold sheen of reflective sweat.
Within the mirror her lips moved, yet in real life they remained stationary, "You are the story teller....?"
Slowly, she nodded, "I am the story teller."
The mirror girl continued to speak foreign words, "Then tell me a story."
This time the real girl shook her head, "I have no story to tell...."
Smiling, the mirror girl flashed her demonic teeth, "Tell me about how he used to sneak into your room at night. Tell me about how he beat
Literature
Untold
As said in Shakespeare's "Hamlet", one bares two faces:
The one that God gave you...
And the one that you show to the world.
Within each person is something hidden, locked away.
How do we enter this place so skillfully guarded?
Do we really know the ones we hold dear?
Or do we all have something left untold?
Literature
Running Away
"What are you afraid of?" He had asked her as they lay there, under a bay window that showed a velvet black sky, sprinkled with sparkling diamonds. After a few minutes, a hand reached out and took his. He looked down at the soft hand, paper white with rivulets of sapphire under the skin. It had never occurred to him just how much he loved her hands until now.
"Would you like the truth? Or will a lie suffice?" A dulcet voice whispered. She had still not turned to look at him, but her hand in his remained strong.
"The truth." He always asked her for the truth. He didn't want rubies of falsehood, of lies, to ruin what they had taken so long to
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he cheated, broke my heart, and laughed.
critique questions:
from reading the entirety of the piece, is it clear what he did? that he cheated? should i refer more to it?
does it feel like there needs to be more between the last stanza and the last line? does it feel like it doesn't flow quite right?
and any other critique points that you might have are graciously welcomed.
critique questions:
from reading the entirety of the piece, is it clear what he did? that he cheated? should i refer more to it?does it feel like there needs to be more between the last stanza and the last line? does it feel like it doesn't flow quite right? and any other critique points that you might have are graciously welcomed. © 2011 - 2024 snow-angels
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i keep rereading this one. this recently happened to me and truthfully it's just disgusting how a person can be so cruel to another. i loved the way you wrote it especially "every little lie, every "mia bella" came back to haunt me. every word that idly dripped out of his mouth that caressed and cared for me turned black and shriveled like a dead flower."
it's like he whispered sweet nothings into my ear and got his way. pretty fucking pissed.
sorry, i felt like i needed to rant.
anyway thank you for writing this, even the most ugliest things in life can be portrayed beautifully and you've done that :]
it's like he whispered sweet nothings into my ear and got his way. pretty fucking pissed.
sorry, i felt like i needed to rant.
anyway thank you for writing this, even the most ugliest things in life can be portrayed beautifully and you've done that :]