she’s the fun type,

always up and about,

loving parties and cheer,

drunk half the time.

reckless and impulsive

but still so careful

drives like a grandma

but runs so carefree

she’s a crazy girl, she is

but still the kindest one in town

calls everyone a bitch

but considerate and fair.

she’s intelligent, clever

but quiet about it

doesn’t show herself off

but everyone knows this

oh yes, she has faults

but they don’t outshine her love for life

lives as if every day is her last

makes people around her want to live, too

If only

she would stop just being a voice in my head

and be as real as I am.

Prose is a great platform, sure. but it isn't, and will never be my main display. My works will get lost in the entire website, and the writings which I deem worthy to be uploaded are few and far in between. Writings that I produce are simply not good enough to be read by all the talented writers here. So it is infrequent, and my (sometimes unfinished) works stay in the file on my desktop.

There is no reason, no format, no way to start such a delicate passage. So you must bear with me now, as I reason to you why my thoughts turned down an empty road, a long and winding sadness told. There is no sound, no rhythm, no melody. No storyline to be seen, but otherwise the inner ramblings of a occupied mind.

----

The laundry pile sits there. On the floor.

In a corner of my bedroom. The one furthest from the door. It's purposefully arranged that every time you walk in, the disgraced stack that took years and years to build, will be the first sight to greet you.

It's a Friday night. My mind is running, swimming, drowning in doubts of my own. But I'm yet to be allowed out of my apartment. So I take a basket and slowly, hesitantly start sorting the junk into little heaps dotted around. Some form of arrangement emerges, yet it seems to be more crowded, and perhaps even less organized as before.

I'm about 50 shirts, or dresses I never wore in, until I spot an abandoned little treasure in the depths of cloth.

It shouldn't surprise me as much as it does. But it does. And I chide myself for being so easily shook, then I turn my attention to the little white wing, slightly blackened with dust, peering out from a light grey hood.

I gently tug on it, revealing more and more until a little white statue sits on my palms.

----

The statue, slightly dusty, makes me sneeze as I attempt to wipe it down with a shirt. But then I stop. and I stare at the little angel playing a flute. I decide that it has a strange sort of charm, being a light grey colour. I leave it be. It almost feels melancholy, as if it was playing a little sad tune nobody would ever hear. A small trickle of music nearly pour out of the marble, trapped within the delicate, sculpted features caked in dust.

painted the window all the colors of my rainbow, left the ones that don’t matter;

first loves are hand-sewn disasters; bare hands can only collect so much glass after,

but my writer’s heart used fractured light from broken dreams to create poetry;

only shared with those who cherished worded cadavers, they’re a favored scarcity,

that’s when i found you, the silent collector of rewritten histories;

you made constellations out of my sharded stars; so easily,

it seems your praising me slowly rebuilt my fickle

dignity; so tell me, how’d you find me?

no, leave the heavens to assure me;

just note my love of receiving,

and the thank yous stumbling,

from my chapped audacity,

so utterly unbecoming;

yet, never

enough.

A voice whispered in the room. It told her to get up & head to the other side of the room. She walked toward the whisper and asked, ‘What do you want?’

It replied, ‘come a little bit closer.’

Then she almost tripped on a tiny box.

She bent down to pick the box up and slowly opened it~

A mighty gust of wind blew around her.

She heard a voice laughing from the shadows.

It chuckled and said, ‘thank you for releasing me from my prison.’

She gulped. What had she done?

It watched her reach for the box. ‘My dear, it’s too late to try and fix what you’ve done. Once I am released from the box- I can’t be pulled back in.’

This was not good at all. She stood in shock as the dark shadow now took on a new form. It smiled and waved at her before leaving the room.

She fell to her knees and tried to let out a scream— but the thing had taken her face.

In a little while, her body started to take on a different form. Her body was just a shadow creature and it was being pulled into the box.

#TrinketBox

1st June, 2020. ©

I’ve been humming a tune I know not of,

and yet I hum it as if it were a tattoo on my lungs.

The continuous frequency of you.

The truth is finally out.

If you believe in horoscopes, then here are your biggest turn-ons according to your star sign. So … take a peek and find out if you are the adventurous type or just have vanilla tastes.

And don’t ask what I am (although born on the cusp, thus two signs)… just let your thoughts run a little crazy … or not.

________________________________________________________

Aries

Aries are naturally adventurous characters, winning them the crown of the kinkiest star in the Zodiac.

“If you’re an Aries, chances are you’ve at least dabbled in a little BDSM, and if you haven’t, it’s a pretty safe bet you’d get a kick out of it.

Taurus

Taurus, on the other hand, is known as the most vanilla or even boring sign in the Zodiac.

“Known for their laziness, they’re big fans of the old-fashioned quickie, and standard missionary position.”

Most Taureans are more focused on the end game (i.e. the orgasm) than the sex itself, so that’s something to think about if this is your partner.

Gemini

Geminis absolutely love to experiment, with sex toys and foreplay firmly on their sexual radar.

“You know you’re always up for a good time” when you bed a Gemini.

Cancer

The most selfless star sign, a Cancer will go above and beyond to make sure their partner climaxes.

They’re incredibly sensual but can also surprise their partners with animalistic tastes, although this is only true when you’ve gained their trust.

Leo

Leos are old-fashioned romantics, who love a good cuddle just as much as a romp.

Like a Cancer, they’ll focus more on your orgasm than their own.

But sexperts warn Leos can take this too far, meaning they’re unable to orgasm themselves when the time comes.

Virgo

Virgos are notorious perfectionists, meaning they too will go to great lengths to please their lovers.

Dubbed “one of the most satisfying lovers in the Zodiac” you won’t be left disappointed by a Virgo.

Libra

Eye contact, long kisses and sensual whispers are some of the biggest turn-ons for a Libra.

This star sign loves mutual masturbation, which will show them exactly what their partner likes.

Scorpio

Scorpios love a bit of kinkiness in the bedroom - and they’re all about experimenting to spice up their love lives.

If you haven’t tried anal sex yet, you may be missing out.

Sagittarius

A Sagittarius’ curious personality means they love watching porn - both for enjoyment and discovering new ideas.

But do bear in mind that you can’t expect to recreate everything you see on the small screen in the bedroom - and your partner may not want to, either.

Capricorn

Capricorns are big fans of mixing things up, so they’re sure to have a long list of positions on their bedposts.

This star sign will accept nothing less than a mind-blowing orgasm.

“They’re great learners, too, so open to taking on feedback and adapting to their lovers’ preferences.”

Aquarius

As free-spirited types, who want to live life to the fullest, Aquarians love dirty sex - and public sessions.

This star sign likes nothing more than feeling vulnerable in front of their partner, which allows them to up their game in the bedroom.

Pisces

A Pisces will go above and beyond to keep their partner happy.

From a bulging sexy lingerie drawer to a love of oral sex, this star sign think it’s important to keep things exciting - even when you’ve been in a relationship for years.

Raphael slowly kissed her cheek

just once and she felt a pulling away

or maybe she just wanted there to

be a reason she didn’t feel the same

Scientists yesterday found a

parallel universe not far

from Raphael's fraternity house

where time runs backwards

a crazy idea

and while she struggled

against Raphael’s desire

after too many Bud Lights

and guilt

in the time that she was being pulled

towards the bedroom

she disappeared in her mind

against the grain of time

and tried to go back to when

she could avoid

meeting Raphael

at that frat party

a total erasure

of their chemistry

but it turns out

when time goes backwards

and you adjust

one inconclusive thing

like him handing her that beer

you want to erase many things

that only belong with her

in a parallel universe where

you cease to be able to predict

motives and consequences and

the lines are blurred

she puts her hand over his mouth

like this

and when she plays it back

he is no

longer kissing her

Raphael just sits with her

and exists in every

universe

He presents her with a steaming cup of tea

and hot soft crumbly biscuits with

tart raspberries and fluffy cream

on a rainy Sunday morning

like a hug, his love

For dinner they eat macaroni and cheese

straight from the stove

gooey cheddar in al dente pasta

with a spinkle of garlic and

gouda and extra salty butter

like a hug, this love of food

And afterwards they fly to Boston together

where he buys her a crisp beer

at a cozy bistro

and they order burgers

that are juicy slabs

of warm buttery meat

topped with melted cheese

and pickles to make your

mouth pop

And they get tipsy

and crawl into their hotel bed

and simply admire each other

and their appetites until daylight

eating leftover dessert from the bistro in bed

moist chocolate cake with whipped vanilla frosting

to make your heart sing