oneword.com

auburn hair. red balloons. scarlet. scarlet eyes and hearts and souls. scarlet passions that burn in the night and ache in the pit of the stomach. fast pumping blood coursing through veins of desire – racing, searching, longing, clutching, feeding, inspiring, then fading into the blackness of sleep, of rest, of peace, of death. the red of a cool star in the vastness of infinity. dust that makes the dirt, that makes the mud, that makes the clay, that built ancient homes, temples, gathering places. flowers under foot to make the day more sweet, to make the harshness of life a little more meaningful, to share encouragement to loved ones, to keep the world kind. like the egg that blooms inside the womb. the seed that will become a baby and soon a child. a child with auburn hair. she will have red balloons on her birthday and her eyes will flash scarlet when she cries or laughs or sings. and youll swear you can hear that sound, in the deep, darkness of night. in the afterglow of love and you know that theres something happening. after the supernova, in the coolness proceeding, you know that something is growing, shaping, evolving in its place. and it all goes ever on. as microbes multiply and humans change and the suns burn up and more planets and solar systems form and the universe expands, we all dance, and spin, and shake, and groan, and sigh, and it all goes on and on.

I am a bag of potato chips: consistent disappointment.
You’ll find that I’m only half as much as what you bargained for,
payment not equal to this palatable illusion.
Gradual realization-
I am terrible for you.
I was a bad decision.
You didn’t actually want me,
but you thought you did.
No more.
Nothing in exchange but a brief, false sense of satisfaction
and the bitter after-taste of a flavour you thought you liked,
thought you needed.
You never learn.
I am what you crave:
a trick,
a burning hunger for a late night snack of salty regret.
What
a
waste.

The last part of the application asked for references. I had never had a job before, and it was only making burgers. They would never call them anyway. I gave them three names…Mr. Shen Anigan, Ms. May Ham, and Ms. Kay Ahs.

Today it’s hard to be patient with other people. Someone knocked on my door late last night and woke me up, and now all I want to do is go back to bed to make up for lost time. I am having trouble being patient, and I also think I may end up being a patient…at a mental hospital. I am going crazy with no sleep.

I rise like the sun, fall like the rain. I feel exhilarated, exuberant, so completely amazing. I rise up, fall down, repeating like the waves. I rise up, I fall down, like a rollercoaster of emotions, but never losing myself.

Arts is close to ants, ants, as far as I know are absent of arts. Arts however, are not absent of ants.

The swing went back and forth in the golden fall wind. Long unused, the rope was fraying and it would not be long before some gust of wind or heavy snow would release it from the tall oak branch.

As I walked in the funeral home, I was entranced by the fragrant flowers and the shiny sleek polished wood of the display coffins. I approached the the blackest coffin of the bunch, and felt the satin material […]

love left alongside you.