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Cinnamonwritingsx
Just here to share my writing ideas!! Romance fanatic : )
![Cinnamonwritingsx](/_next/image?url=https%3A%2F%2Ffirebasestorage.googleapis.com%3A443%2Fv0%2Fb%2Fprompt-6db57.appspot.com%2Fo%2Fusers%252FeJU00eqZxMS4UkaTvxrVbY2K5TO2%252Fprofile_image_128x128.jpg%3Falt%3Dmedia%26token%3D7e121998-f533-4c68-8f06-80a6aece9626&w=256&q=75)
Cinnamonwritingsx
Just here to share my writing ideas!! Romance fanatic : )
Just here to share my writing ideas!! Romance fanatic : )
Just here to share my writing ideas!! Romance fanatic : )
I’d been in hospital, but I didn’t know why. My parents told me I’d had a fall and had gone into a coma. All I remember from my trip was seeing God, and I had wings. There was a boy, he told me, that was waiting for me. With me everyday, holding my hand. But why don’t I remember?
I walked out of my apartment and down the sunny sidewalk of Cornwall. I felt weird, like I’d been reborn but my soul w...
A few pages once white now grey,
Thick masking tape to cover the rips like a tigers stripe,
Delicate, thin material with scratch marks,
A brutal appearance though representing so much love.
Scrawls of black ink, some smudged
Showing the hard core of the book and the toughness
Of the leather.
It all starts with dear diary,
But what does it end with?
Magical, how an old few pages can withhold so...
Black.
Everything.
The beep of a machine;
Hospital?
Red.
Thirst for it,
Rubies,
Liquid.
Lust.
The sharp teeth from my gums more pointy,
My eyes more dark.
The smell is close,
Rust and wood.
A polychromatic room blinds my eyes.
Need.
Hunger.
Blindness.
Raw.
Death.
I am becoming the monster
I always feared....
All the sweet chocolates sent to me were filled with poison,
A green bubbling acid I thought was healthy
When really, it was your boiling anger of red,
Filled like a heart, but only halfway with venom.
Make me remember, lest I forget the bench
Where we sat alone and watched the sea.
I had not known then how close to the cliff it had been,
And you gifted me my first honey kiss.
Only now do ...
In the golden night,
Glitter dusts the sky
Stars shine like diamonds,
Creating a sea of blue in the navy sky.
In the golden night,
Birds nestle in crooks and trees.
A golden hallway to heaven,
Dark trees in the distance,
But always a light.
In the golden night,
Foxes scavenge around to heal their needs.
Bathing in the remains of the rich gold,
It’s just like a treasure box being opened.
In the ...
Hello.
Can you hear me?
Hello.
Help me please.
I'm scared.
Hello..?
I put my book down and walk over to my window, looking out at the rain that poured down heavily. I could hear a small voice but I didn't know if it was my inner monologue or something else. I leaned closer as I noticed a face on the other side of the pane. A small hand pressed up against the glass and to my larger hand.
Ou...
I tried my hand, a new pursuit,
Brush to canvas, colours to fruit.
But strokes went wayward, hues askew,
Masterpiece in progress, not to construe.
Yet still I soldier on, mistakes persist,
For in clumsy strokes, I find my true gist.
In missteps and failures, growth can transpire,
The beauty in imperfection, my art to inspire.
With each stroke gone astray, I embrace the fire.
Burning bri...
I brew the stew and put the beef into the pan. I chopped up some vegetables and then boiled them. When I'm finished, I take the meal to the table with a fake smile. I'm currently serving for Costello Divina, the CEO of matell, a large clothing brand in New York. But I'm an undercover spy, and he doesn't know that I fished out his true intentions.
Let me spill the tale. He ordered the military t...
The dim, golden light of the bar was shining on the crowd of dancers. Women and men were playing an anonymous act with their masquerade themed masks. Today, I was here for information. I worked for a secret agency at the FBI. Although, I didn't act like a goody.
I sat down at the bar, grimacing at the sticky cherry wood that was the counter. I ordered a red wine and fished out a large sum of mon...
You will be sitting in your office, the anger
Seeping through the crack of the door.
A knock will be sounded, but you tell them to leave.
They ask you why, and you don't reply.
The crumple of the paper as you toss it back into the bin, frustration
Weaving through the open windows and into your stream
Where it boils around you and bubbling your skin,
Negativity fills you as you think about the...