She was steel.
Back straight, head held high.
No blushes, sideways glances,
Nothing coy and nothing shy.
She was steel.
Always standing proud and tall.
And determined to never fall.
She was steel and yet so kind.
For strength does not leave compassion behind.
I’ve decided that I am writing a book.
Or at least that is what I’m trying.
Maybe it would be more correct to say,
I’m just keeping myself from crying.
But maybe I just need words to come out,
Instead of writing, I’ll try a recorder.
Then afterward I can begin to worry,
About the words and about the order.
I dream of a character, who’s funny and deep,
And all my readers truly adore him.
But for now, my only wish is this:
To not kill my readers through boredom.
And the hope that keeps me going is really quite simple.
The second book will be easier, oh, please God will it
I got a French manicure today.
(And my husband left me).
It’s a very stylish look.
(He says that the woman he loved is dead).
I think perhaps I’ve never looked better.
(He says he misses my laughter).
And that is all that matters now.
That instinct that makes us
Use our tongue
To push against that stubborn tooth
Hanging insistently by a single thread.
Just to see if it still hurts.
A/N: Another haiku, another literary reference.
This one is quite a bit harder, and I’ll post the answer as a comment in the following week if no one knows it.
A hint: Think 18th century Gothic.
A ventriloquist’s antics.
Causes him to break.
Insanity bringing death.
A/N: Another haiku, another (sort of) literary reference. Who’ll tell me which story this is from?
A boy with a dream.
Friends sharing laughter and tears.
He’ll be pirate king.
Cursing softly as the doorbell rang, Christopher sent a quick prayer upwards that it wasn’t yet another charity organisation. Ever since he’d won those fifty millions, so much had changed. One of the changes that he could have been without was people asking for money.
It wasn’t like he was against the idea of giving back. He’d actually started his own charity organisation since he’d won, but by now he was just sick and tired of people telling him that he was a bad person if he didn’t also give to their organisation. Like he was some sort of horrible human being just because he didn’t give to everyone who asked. Like distant relatives and old classmates.
Continue reading Changes
“You’re wrong,” my angel told me,
“And I need for you to change.
You need to be less of all you are,
Less fascinated with everything strange.
Continue reading An Angel’s Frown
A/N: My first haiku! Bonus points for anyone who can tell me which literary work it’s from.
Curtains used as dress.
Rooster’s feather in her hair.
The gloves told the truth.