miag321

miag321

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the beads tingle and swish and form creating visual masterpieces in front of her eyes big blue jewels for eyes staring in her little scope watching those magical shape shifters shift and shape leaving a little girl in awe

bulb

like the tingle of the deli counter bell, like the instant unexpected fingers meet, the flare of electricity sparks he feels it she hopes he felt it because what do you know she felt it too

lock

the rust crunched as she hastily locked the portal behind her. Yet, she gets lost in a tangle of thoughts and realizes she is not safe, she will never BE safe. The lock is temporary, the door is only material. They are getting to her, coming in, shattering all walls and safety nets around her, they are here. In her head.

level

is my self worth not as high as yours does my value in pocket change not amount to your weighty price tag? im attempting to rise the bar to look you eye to eye but you seem to always look down down down upon me

braid

I write of girls with braids never me never stories of I with braids never my memories or bits and pieces of childhood am I living a life outside of my own? do I discredit the value of my own stories versus the made up ones I need to live here now me

braid

french braiding, fishtails as fingers weave and stories, giggles waft through the air pre-teen bedrooms sleepless sleepover nights popcorn crumbs and the innocence of little girls spread along the floor

wade

wading through the splashes of water and other little tykes around I navigate the 3 foot deep waters conquering the kiddie pool sea square foot by foot with aide from the orange floaters holding me above I am the king of this jungle mounds of toys and floating plastic castles buckets and shovels all floating around my big proud chest

crush

crushes are a funny thing you don't really know when the line is crossed between fancying and crushing then crushing and love But I define crush as the time when I knew that no other person not one would do but of course you

crush

blue crush crushed strawberries in strawberry spritzers the crush of the waves on the rocks crushed granular sand swimming between toes summer is here too bad her heart's crushed

lust

lust is a funny feeling when without it, you feel empty you want an object of desire to fill that space you yearn for the feeling of burning passion but when filled with lust all you want is all you may not obtain all you desire is no longer feesible and that burning passion keeps one up into the hours of the early morning eats at your brain

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writing since 2011 · 36 entries · 29 days shown up

each square is a day—lit means Mia showed up.

16longest streak

29days written

1.9entries / week

on this day 15 years ago

Mia wrote about lock
“the rust crunched as she hastily locked the portal behind her. Yet, she gets lost in a tangle of thoughts and realizes she is not safe, she will never BE safe. The lock is temporary, the door is only…”

the words Mia reaches for

despairforgettingholdwritebelovedegosegolargestrangernowheldfailedmeanbeyondfeelinglonger