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bunnybeige (United States) published:
FREE WRITING
Quinn never expected to become famous.
He was just someone who wanted to make art for himself, masterpieces that he could step back and admire. He knew it was selfish, he knew it was, but still, he couldn't stop. And he didn't stop when he got his first book deal, when he got his first apartment (or at least one that was one in good enough condition to live in comfortably), and when he had his first kiss with a...
less than a minute ago
katnissromanoff (United States) published:
PROMPT: Dream Big
I had always wanted to be many things. Teaching had crossed my mind many times, as had interior designing, working for the CIA, being a politician, coding for NASA, and curating a museum. But one thing had always stayed at the top of my list since I was young. Acting.
It had always just been a fantasy though. Sure fame and luxury had appealed to me at a young age, though I also loved storytelling. Writing, reading, watching movies, and...
2 minutes ago
bunnybeige (United States) published:
FREE WRITING
there's a war going on out there
and none of us are fighting, at least
not between twinned flesh and blood,
silver and bullets.
it's a fight made up of words, of which
we do not understand. they are
half-filled, or at the least, a quarter-filled.
we tangle our tongues in between kisses
sweet nothings.
they go numb when your beloved flips the
channel from CNN to Fox and Friends,
and are barred with a setfull of twenty-two
ivory sickles,...
4 minutes ago
Zinniav (United States) liked Love Me Not by Sophiascb (United States)
14 minutes ago
Zinniav (United States) liked Numbness by bunnybeige (United States)
15 minutes ago
Sophiascb (United States) published:
FREE WRITING
rain drips from century-old brick
ink draws the lines
in my daintily weathered hands
jewels are icy on my collarbones
floating flowers
striking in my gray, tepid tea
pianos and violins
refract on high ceiling murals
down these halls and
into my flailing thoughts
paper crackles under string
on the fragile foot of my messenger
treason through the watering blue eyes
of the real caged one
petal perfume on my fingertips
he loves me
he loves me not
for i...
17 minutes ago
Zinniav (United States) published:
PROMPT: Op-Ed Competition 2021
One of my grandma's first memories is of huddling under a bomb shelter in London during the Blitz. Surprisingly, it wasn't a traumatic experience. Being an innocent, bright-eyed, three-year-old caught up in the horrors of humanity’s mechanized abstractions, she garnered a lot of sympathy. When the loud noises started, the adults would give her candy, sing her songs, tell her stories. It’s amazing how under the right circumstances bombs can become associated with bon-bons.
I don’t mean to trivialize the...
17 minutes ago
bunnybeige (United States) published:
FREE WRITING
numbness strips me down until i am nothing but a blank canvas.
i wait for emotion to strike the horsehair tips of its
brush upon my face and paint on the day's expression.
it will never come, unless i truly want to feel
again.
18 minutes ago
TheOrigionalBanananan (United States) published:
FREE WRITING
If I die before I wake,
And if my soul you did forsake,
I will crumble into ash
Faster than your words can lash.
But this won’t be them end of me,
For I’m reborn, don’t you see.
And from the ash, I will rise
Full of fire and phoenix cries.
I’ll be free, and you will stay
And like the moon, at me you’ll bay.
But I’ll be flying up so high
That nothing will reach me,...
21 minutes ago
Zinniav (United States) published:
FREE WRITING
My town is a Victorian woman who has lost her virginity, trying to hide her bloody underwear. The girlish lilac so many houses are slathered in feels off, like rough on already flushed cheeks.
There is a man with a brass pocket watch who conducts a tour of all the haunted mansions and sewers, after an hour he sends the tourists off for pizza and cheap souvenirs. But we’re still living here, paying way too much in rent.
I have...
21 minutes ago
bunnybeige (United States) published:
FREE WRITING
Quinn never expected to become famous.
He was just someone who wanted to make art for himself, masterpieces that he could step back and admire. He knew it was selfish, he knew it was, but still, he couldn't stop. And he didn't stop when he got his first book deal, when he got his first apartment (or at least one that was one in good enough condition to live in comfortably), and when he had his first kiss with a...
less than a minute ago
katnissromanoff (United States) published:
PROMPT: Dream Big
I had always wanted to be many things. Teaching had crossed my mind many times, as had interior designing, working for the CIA, being a politician, coding for NASA, and curating a museum. But one thing had always stayed at the top of my list since I was young. Acting.
It had always just been a fantasy though. Sure fame and luxury had appealed to me at a young age, though I also loved storytelling. Writing, reading, watching movies, and...
2 minutes ago
bunnybeige (United States) published:
FREE WRITING
there's a war going on out there
and none of us are fighting, at least
not between twinned flesh and blood,
silver and bullets.
it's a fight made up of words, of which
we do not understand. they are
half-filled, or at the least, a quarter-filled.
we tangle our tongues in between kisses
sweet nothings.
they go numb when your beloved flips the
channel from CNN to Fox and Friends,
and are barred with a setfull of twenty-two
ivory sickles,...
4 minutes ago
Sophiascb (United States) published:
FREE WRITING
rain drips from century-old brick
ink draws the lines
in my daintily weathered hands
jewels are icy on my collarbones
floating flowers
striking in my gray, tepid tea
pianos and violins
refract on high ceiling murals
down these halls and
into my flailing thoughts
paper crackles under string
on the fragile foot of my messenger
treason through the watering blue eyes
of the real caged one
petal perfume on my fingertips
he loves me
he loves me not
for i...
17 minutes ago
Zinniav (United States) published:
PROMPT: Op-Ed Competition 2021
One of my grandma's first memories is of huddling under a bomb shelter in London during the Blitz. Surprisingly, it wasn't a traumatic experience. Being an innocent, bright-eyed, three-year-old caught up in the horrors of humanity’s mechanized abstractions, she garnered a lot of sympathy. When the loud noises started, the adults would give her candy, sing her songs, tell her stories. It’s amazing how under the right circumstances bombs can become associated with bon-bons.
I don’t mean to trivialize the...
17 minutes ago
bunnybeige (United States) published:
FREE WRITING
numbness strips me down until i am nothing but a blank canvas.
i wait for emotion to strike the horsehair tips of its
brush upon my face and paint on the day's expression.
it will never come, unless i truly want to feel
again.
18 minutes ago
Zinniav (United States) published:
FREE WRITING
My town is a Victorian woman who has lost her virginity, trying to hide her bloody underwear. The girlish lilac so many houses are slathered in feels off, like rough on already flushed cheeks.
There is a man with a brass pocket watch who conducts a tour of all the haunted mansions and sewers, after an hour he sends the tourists off for pizza and cheap souvenirs. But we’re still living here, paying way too much in rent.
I have...
21 minutes ago
KatelynsCupcakes (United States) published:
PROMPT: Op-Ed Competition 2021
Everyday at school, I looked around and saw girls sporting jeans, hoodies, and cropped tops. Now, I see much of the same, only any other signs of physical self-expression is further hidden behind masks. At thirteen, living in a world where trendiness is synonymous with popularity, I have learned that not everyone will like me. However, what matters far more to me now is who likes me. And, more importantly, whether I like myself. Since I was younger, I've always...
27 minutes ago
alyanna (Philippines) published:
FREE WRITING
He stands in the dark
Alone, abandoned, waiting
But nobody comes
The moon shines on him
Brilliant, bright, unforgiving
Wasting its light on --
Shadow. A shadow.
Shunned and rejected by man
Abandoned by fate
He opens his mouth
No sound comes -- his throat is dry
Then he speaks -- three words:
"Lord, help me" he cries
Alone, abandoned, waiting
And Somebody comes--
about 1 hour ago
alyanna (Philippines) published:
PROMPT: 25 Words
He stood on the platform, suit wrinkled, foot tapping, hand running through hair, checking his watch -- waiting for a train that would never come.
about 1 hour ago