Elizabeth Irie

14(15 at the end of the school year) | I feel behind at writing for my age, I hope to improve with this app. | I love feedback!

Writings

Followers

515

Following

Elizabeth Irie

14(15 at the end of the school year) | I feel behind at writing for my age, I hope to improve with this app. | I love feedback!

Writings

Followers

515

Following

My Final Birthday

Elizabeth Irie

2 min read

It’s my twenty first, so naturally my friends and I went out in the town to get a few drinks of some sort of wine.

Outside it’s cold, wet, windy, and gloomy. As I always say, the weather sets the mood for the tone of your day.

We enter a bar that’s packed to the brim. The lights flash bold, obnoxious colors on a whim.

My friends drag me to the dance floor. We party as if there’s no school work...

Poetry

Horror

When Hope Fails

Elizabeth Irie

1 min read

When all hope fails, I fall into a pit.

A pit of darkness, dirt, and emptiness.

Rounded at the corners, preventing my escape.

The one exit, shrouded over in darkness.

What’s left is a pure pitch black environment.

Can’t even see your silhouette.

Nothing can get in.

Nothing can get out.

I stay here till the sun starts to shine though once more....

Poetry

The Glitching Lamp

Elizabeth Irie

1 min read

Everything was perfect. I had the perfect wife, the perfect life, the perfect son. I graduated college, had lots of friends, and a great job.

Then one day, in the middle of the night, I woke up to a ringing in my ear. It wouldn’t go away, no matter the home remedy I tried. I decided to sleep on it. I’d tell my wife all about it in the morning time.

But when I woke up, I wasn’t in my bed. I was...

Poetry

Action

The Beauty Of Boredom

Elizabeth Irie

1 min read

When I’m bored just lying there in my bed or if I have my head up against the window of the car, feeling the bumps of the road. My mind goes to places I’ve never known.

The world slows down around me, sounds they mush to silence. And what seeps in is uncontrollable excitement.

A world is built from my ideas and projects I have yet to start. A bustling city of my stories and characters from each ...

Poetry

If Only, Then Maybe

Elizabeth Irie

1 min read

If only life was worth living,

If only my words had a meaning,

If only friendship was binding,

Then maybe I wouldn’t feel so alone...

Poetry

Exercise

Elizabeth Irie

1 min read

Tw: Ed

It will never be what can my body do.

It will always be how much can my body lose....

Poetry

Worth More Than Gold

Elizabeth Irie

6 min read

My family isn’t rich but then again we aren’t poor. Our house may be scarce but we dont need a lot of furniture. I share a mattress with Elena and Jacob, my siblings. We’ve had this sleeping set up ever since we were three under three. Ma and Pa also share a bed so everyone’s happy since we all have to give a little.

The dog sleeps outside on the front doorstep. He guards our door that has no lo...

I’ll Remember

Elizabeth Irie

1 min read

Sitting on the crumbling stone, I watch people whose stories will go untold.

A heartbreaker and a couple truly in love. A group of children running after a dog.

I’ll remember them, even if history will not....

Poetry

Coffee Date

Elizabeth Irie

2 min read

“And for you miss?” The waiter asks me.

“Just a coffee please.” I reply

“Any milk or sugar?”

“No thank you”

“Alright, I’ll be back shortly ladies.” The waiter says before walking away.

“So?” I ask Jess in a obnoxious tone while elbowing her. “What did you think about him?”

“I just got out of a relationship Danny, I’m not looking to start a new one.”

“You say that now. Just wait, I’ll find you ...

Endless Possibilities

Elizabeth Irie

1 min read

If I could reach inside your heart, what would I do with it?

Well, I’d pull and I’d push it.

I’d bump it around, see how far it can go.

I’d string it along, give in to it’s fantasies, before taking them away leaving it with nothing.

See what it would do if it had all it wanted, and then it had nothing.

See how far I could go before life to you seemed to no longer worth living....

Poetry

Horror