Writing Prompt

She was no saint

More of a sinner

But now she is no more

All of what she was remains within her

In life she was conflicted

Born into privilege her life was determined for her

She felt as if a bird in a cage with her beautiful wings clipped

She had a glimpse of the tawdry side of life and a longing began to stir

There must be more fun than polo ponies and the dandy’s who compete

Always posing fo...

Quiet exhalations,

Not of sadness,

Not of regret,

But of nostalgia for a memory,

That has yet to show itself....

Sometimes being tired

is less about no sleep

and more about the fact

that your soul feels no peace.

Sometimes being tired

is being sick of the chase

exhausted from always running

but never winning the race.

Sometimes being tired

is having a hard time hanging on

when everyone around you

expects you to be strong.

Sometimes being tired

is giving up what you should get

to just fade into the backgro...

It was a beautiful night, the music and watching the sunrise come over the mountains as the small hours gave way to early morning.

That walk home, and then making love while the sea air blew through the open courtyard into our room. It was all so wonderful.

And now everything is awful and empty. The day after ecstasy, all I can do is wait for my neurochemicals to top themselves back up, because ...

Everything around me seems to crumple like a snow storm. All the colors that surround everyday life swarm around me reminding me of what I don’t have. The energy I once possessed as a young child is replaced by a deep longing to rest and shut out the world. A deep longing for an escape that will never come. ...

We can hear the soldiers outside.

Mama says if we are quiet then we will be safe and we can see Uncle Henry in England. The soldiers outside are very noisy. They are stamping and shouting. Nobody else is making noise.

Mama says that the house we are staying in is not ours and so we must be careful not to mess anything up. I do not understand why we had to leave our proper house.

Mama says we m...

All my dreams come true.

In the night, when I lie on my bed and fall into a deep slumber, my mind weaves a collection of dreams. Dreams built on my desires, my fears, my hopes and despairs.

And when I wake up, whatever I dreamt of will become a reality. The only catch is that I cannot control what I dream of. Every night, every dream, is a roll of the dice.

I've had this ability for as long as ...

What is the meaning?

What is my purpose?

What is this feeling?

Is there any way this can get worse?

I’m in despair,no feeling has ever compared

21 and i still feel link a child

In terms of maturity I feel like I’m wild

Some things I’m desensitised to

Thinking I’m used to this, it’s what I always do

But I’ve never considered the possibility

That this mentality is just a part of me

The mentalit...