My Pencils


I’m grateful for:

My pencils. My twenty-four pack of Prisma color Premier colored pencils. Neatly places in the tin with colorful illustrations atop of the container. The plastic inserts dividing the colors, ridged and smooth. Ultramarine, and a certain shade of apple green, The tip of my colored pencil sharp while it still dances atop of my artist paper. Neatly filling in the blanks.
 
Avatar for username Danyliej

Danyliej

VT

18 years old

More by Danyliej

See all

  • Poetry

    By Danyliej

    Relative Existence

    I am the one who takes long walks in the rain when rumbling thunder rolls in, walking through quaint puddles, dancing through the ones that seemed to eat up more and more of the sidewalk, as more and more rainfall soaks the already satisfied soil.

    Read More

  • Poetry

    By Danyliej

    Grasp The Moon

    If only I could reach a little further… I’d grasp the moon in my hands and give it to you. I’d let you hold it near, and dear to that adoring heart of yours.

    Read More

  • Fiction

    By Danyliej

    Frantic

    My heart thumped and bumped against my rib cage, needing to get out, needing to escape. Attempting to race away like I only wished I could do. The footsteps neared closer and closer.

    Read More