Every day I write is a love affair with words.
The release of my vocabulary makes me feel so stress free.
You wanted the truth about it, yes?
There are moments when I fill up with all these doubts,
When what wasn't and isn't enough for me suddenly(more) feels like maybe it's more than enough.
Is that enough for me?
Is 'enough' enough for a girl who wants it all?
My hands shake and the images that never happened run through my mind.
I look at your hands and I think about the things I'm not supposed to know.
Sometimes I wish I could disappear like a cloud of smoke.
But I would cling to you the way the smell does.
I wish I could melt into the pages your book.
Then I could become your new favorite word.
I wish I could turn into a song.
(more) So I can get stuck in your head.
I wish I could be a thought in your head.
So I would know what it's like in there.
I don't know why I keep writing about you.
I don't know who you are. If you even exist.
Maybe it's easier to blame it all on you.
Eventually, it will all be your fault.
And I ill be stress free. (less)
It's the beginning of the beginning, the start of the start, the moment it all came into being. Nothing is happening, nothing is there. The material, the fabric of these endless swathes of stars is gone. It is not there, it does not exist. Something will happen soon, and(more) the material of the stars will burst, rippling and rolling to form what is now known. Heat and life will spill out, and the earth will become hospitable and humans will rise up from the sea and consume the land and soon it will all be over. In that immaterial time beyond time before the universe existed, nothing mattered and it still doesn't. Your life is shit. go die. (less)
Drops of chilled water run down the side of a seltzer bottle and seep into the table cloth upon which bowls and plates and glasses of sorbets and shortcakes and parfaits are set, all beautifully arranged in a circle around a white parasol.
Lazy afternoon. Humid air. Quiet streets. No professors giving me deadlines. No nosy dorm managers asking why I was late last night. No classmates asking for a photocopy of my notebook. Summer. Even our dog, who cutely goes by the name Summer, feels it.
(more) I only have a few more days before this short vacation is over. On Sunday, I'm going back to school to attend summer classes.
Eat, sleep, and internet are the only things that I'm going to be doing while on vacation. That's right. I am intentionally going to be unproductive. I want to be stress free.(less)
"Stress free this morning please. Stress free this morning please." Was the mantra he muttered to himself as he scurried to the office. It was never going to work. He knew that. Every morning was ridiculously stressful for him. But maybe it would reduce his internal pressure by a couple(more) of millibars. That could make all the difference.(less)
"LET ME GO" She screams, Struggling fighting but to no avail, it was useless.
Her screams ring through his ears, Deeper and deeper it goes, Never leaving a scar on his mind.
Nobody is around to hear in the cabin, The air is heavy and she falls silent(more).
His sigh breaks the silence. He puts the object near her neck, right under her jugular vein and like an amateur her neck is gone.
He's done this many times, Too many to keep track of but then again, that's what a notebook is for.
He calmly cuts off her hands, her slender arms, her smooth long legs without a hint of regret, the cooler in-front of the nightstand is already opened.
He begun to put her body in a large red cooler not missing a single second in the dead of night.
He stands wiping scarlet in his hair with a gleaming million dollar smile that only the foolish could fall for..
Walking along the creaking wooden floor to the open front door, he drags behind him the bright red cooler to the lake between the trees.
"Such a piece of cake" he mutters to himself quietly, he pushes the cooler with the blonde woman's dismembered body into the cool streaming lake,
wading all the way in until it is up to his waist.
He wades back to the land looking only soaked and clean without a hint of scarlet.
Only the bitter look sweet, but they never last for long..(less)