Writing

Man at desk with black birds
["Asgardian Seagulls," digital art by cedar, YWP]
  • Fatal Orbit

    She carried around a lip gloss with her, reminiscent of jam and the fruits I used to eat in my youth. It appears darker in the bottle than on her lips, yet she says it is perfect the way it is.

  • Pretty

    Pretty. 
    A word I have been called a few times. 
    But why can’t I see it? Why do I look at others and think they’re beautiful. 
    Why can’t I see myself the same way? 

  • We All Bleed

    Blood spills onto our streets too much.

    The streets were once safely kept

    but now they're permanently stained

    with cries, sirens, and death. 

     

    The harrowing cold of the family house,

  • A Masterpiece in Binary

    I think there is a glitch in my processing unit; 

    when the letter 'A' enters the system, 

    it doesn't just register as a character—

    it spills out as a deep magenta that dyes the rest of the word.