P. A.

Fka as TheAstronomer. Avid reader of mystery and poetry. I also love hearing any feedback anyone has. Hope you’re having a great day :).

164

Writings

Followers

Following

P. A.

Fka as TheAstronomer. Avid reader of mystery and poetry. I also love hearing any feedback anyone has. Hope you’re having a great day :).

164

Writings

Followers

Following

Waiting

P. A.

1 min read

_Just_

_keep_

_walking._

No time for worrying.

No time for thoughts.

Only you and those cracks;

crystal clear on the pavement

a shattered mirror

a pathway divided

a place you’re not.

_Just_

_keep_

_going._

Does the stinging in your lungs excite you?

Does the fact that

you.

never.

show.

your.

face.

mean something?

The only way I know you have one—

the droplets along the cracks,

the eyes in the...

Poetry

Mystery

Man’s Best Friend

P. A.

1 min read

They say you’re man’s best friend;

but I deem you mine.

Perking ears at the smell of bacon—

A damp, nuzzling nose when you know I’m on the brink of falling.

You don’t get mad if I spend my day with one person—

in fact, you revel in their company.

Exploring their quirks with a heart-melting smile,

Tongue-lolling, “I think I’ll keep you for a while.”

You don’t say much now, but you’re still man’s ...

Poetry

Water

P. A.

1 min read

Cold water.

A stare.

Blissfully unaware.

Frozen nights.

A sense of regret.

A gaze I haven’t quite met.

Hot water.

Burns the skin like frostbite.

Thawing away with stinging might.

A confrontation.

No pleading.

Cold water feels warm when you’re freezing....

Poetry

Mystery

Going…

P. A.

1 min read

Going

Gone.

The day that gavel struck my life, I knew what was coming.

Life seeping from your skin,

Age hollowing your bones.

But a smile that never faltered.

_Going once…_

I found you on the step—

Grinning so broadly it must’ve hurt.

_I know it did_.

Before I could ask you how long you’d been lying there,

you turned from me,

into the harsh winter air.

_Going twice…_

You told me not to ...

Poetry

Drama

Apple

P. A.

1 min read

My laugh is Mom’s.

My humour is Dad’s.

An accent extracted from the people around me.

Maybe my love for the countryside is justified.

Maybe my dislike for heights is fair.

Maybe the reason I hate the city is that my mind’s been molded outside of there.

I stole that joke from someone else.

I thought it was funny in the moment, and so did you.

I’m merely a puppet behind the strings,

comandeering t...

Poetry

The Only Answer

P. A.

1 min read

“The only answer is arson”, you had said, with an ounce of familiarity.

As if, you too, had accompanied the job as the gallons trickled over windshields— greasing over, obscuring view to a blur.

A mere moment in time before the flames hit the surface, melting those wipers, pungent rubber prickling the air.

I sat cold in that classroom.

Papers unfurling toward me like the gallons trickling over.

W...

Poetry

Horror

Home

P. A.

1 min read

She laughs in the moment.

As the key slots into the door,

the soft click meeting her every time.

The beige cat in the window blinks lazily,

once catching sight of her,

and then her new companion beside her,

hops from the curtain to greet them.

There’s conversations only the door hears;

the keylock so used to its role as sentinel,

wedging a barrier between strangers and friends.

It observes so muc...

Poetry

Drip

P. A.

1 min read

Each drop is a journey

One emotion

One time.

Watching as the fatal

drip,

pools onto the ground like a crimson river.

The clash of the blade as it sparks the ground,

leaving that trail,

that set of footprints,

while I trek deeper within the red.

These numbers reach higher levels

Heartrate ceasing,

Speed increasing,

A proportional equation and the math to this madness

As the answer ...

Poetry

Horror

All I’ve Ever Known

P. A.

1 min read

Fame is such a funny word—

Used so sporadically

That even the most reclusive souls

Turn round to look at me.

It’s not something I brag about

It’s not something I want

The death of all I’ve ever known

Comes back to sit and taunt.

I sit on this uncomfy throne

With orders in my hand

But remnants of the fight and battle

Still lay upon the land

He fought for all we love

Tried to divide and conquer

W...

Poetry

Fantasy

Scrolls of Time

P. A.

1 min read

Clutching the parchment in his grasp

He sprints,

ducks,

weaves,

each page flitting in his red hands

as the date marked first of November

Slips from his fingertips.

The memory of Mama slips from her mind,

As casual as sleight-of-hand,

As crafty as deception

As November first becomes a day she deems normal as any other.

And the sound of the heartbeat monitor

Beeping.

Ceasing

is lost.

The...

Poetry

Mystery