creative writing
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I am but a humble scrivener, of ink and vellum born,I tend the wills of gentlemen – their fortunes and their scorn.The stacks are cold and airless, where the candle’s seldom lit,And ghosts of ink and parchment whisper, “mind the words you’ve writ.”They speak of pale Annabel, a clerk of modest wage,Who vanished from her
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Cheap champagne, paper streamers, I played the good hostess in a house full of tears. Swallowed the truth till it burned going down,Ignored the fault lines that grew without sound. You said, “It’s all in your head,” with that sugar-laced grin,Twisting the story to stay in your spin.But a whisper of fury’s a vow I’ll
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It’s 3 A.M. and the fridge is humming,I’m not twenty-three, but the past keeps coming.Calculator running inside my head:Five years of “us,” eight years of “dead.”The numbers don’t lie, they just draw a line;This resentment’s the one thing still mine.My friends are all tired of hearing my side,They say, “Let it go, let the past
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You taught me to smile like a switchblade in sheath,Say “bless your heart” through the grit of my teeth.Walk through a fire while lighting a cigarette,Win every fight I haven’t lost yet.You measured my spine ’til it learned to stay straight,Taught me the formula — love into hate.Told me to treat my own kindness like
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Another Saturday night spent baptizing our problems in fluorescent light.The coffee’s a sermon on burning out slow.The jukebox is screaming a hymn for the broke,and we’re just disciples of nowhere to go.And the sugar rush hits like a cheap revelation,we’re praying for something to break the stagnation.Oh, this ain’t a breakdown, it’s just a dress
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I used to sleep like a solider,Boots by the bed, eyes on the door.Now I lie still in the quietAnd wonder what I’m waiting for.I don’t miss the fire or the wreckage,Just the way it made me move. When everything was burning,At least I knew what to do.Patched their walls, ignored my stress.Thought my giving
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You left me a ring made of soot and smoke,A promise half-burned, a joke I never broke. Taught me “fire keeps you warm, if you just stop the tears.”I mastered the poker face; I practiced for years. You stitched your survival right under my skin,A lineage of flint where love should’ve been.Said, “Pain is a
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You took my spark, called it divine.You forged the stars to spell my name.But your hands were smoke, your smile a show. you wore my warmth like stolen glow. I thought love could patch the breaks,but you just twisted till I ached. Mirror of lies, mirror of blame,I see your face, but it’s not the
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You walk in soft, and I brace for the blow.You’re not him, but my body don’t know.I laugh too loud, then I shut down fast.Scared you’ll leave if I don’t make it last.You reach for me like it’s no big deal,and I flinch like love’s not supposed to heal. Your steady hands and quiet eyes.You
I Wrote This Instead of Screaming 