saraheiser

saraheiser

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watch

You watched through the blinds of a motel window for red and blue lights. A paranoid mess you are, convincing yourself this is all a bad dream. "What did you do wrong?" You ask yourself. "I'm the victim...they were trying to get me what else could I do. The people I trusted..." You weren't able to sleep that night or the night before. Crazy they called you but you and I know who the crazy ones really are. The ones who don't believe you I believe you but who am I? Just another brick in the wall. You'll be okay just stay out of the light. ~s.r.a

Scalpels poke and prod at anatomies. Scissors snip and snap at veins and cords. Doctors so OBSESSED with finding a cure they evolve into madness and hunger for their next patients. Doctors becoming doctored and patients never seeing the light of day or the eerie of night again. ~s.r.a

She preferred the night from the day. In the night she could sneak around and wear masks of stars. In the day she was a speck in the sunlight so she preferred night to day. At night she and her friends would gather and howl at that neon moon above their heads and dance to its beams of sheer light. When the sun came out, it was time to go. Her and her friends would gather their hopelessness and their sorrow, say goodbye, and be on their way. She preferred night to day, because in the night she felt she felt more alive ~xo s.r.a

She kept herself styled. One jump ahead of the glamorous magazines and lifetime models. With each step she took elegance stained the pavement. She kept people guessing." How can you look so good in such an antique style?" They'd ask, and she'd just nod her head and say "Thank you" with a smile. Photographers would offer her hundreds upon hundreds of dollars just for one photo shoot and she'd just nod her head and say "Thank you." with a smile. ~xo s.r.a

fans

Me and you used to dream about being famous. Cameras flashing, people cheering, and the adoring fans. We were going to be famous whether it withered our bones. We had a plan all set out wearing the shimmering gowns and fake smiles. We were going to be famous even if it made us cry. We didn't want to we needed to be famous but fame is easier said than done.

The thoughts inside our heads were trapped like prisoners in a rusty jail cell. Inside our heads were colors and explosions and images of us taking on the world. One by one we would walk away from those who would mind and one by one there was no one left. When we smiled roses bloomed in our eyes and we felt whole. I can't remember a day when you weren't near...Until now. Now the roses in our eyes are wilted. And the explosions in our minds are no more. And the colors have faded. And the thoughts spilled all over the floor. But there's still sunshine. ~xo s.r.a

The scientist was a master in genetics. Whether it was to help solve a crime or reunite a family member, DNA was his specialty.He always had a case he had to work on, sometimes multiple ones at the same time, one which led to both cases being connected. Today, however, was different. This case was more special than the rest. It was a secret though, he couldn't tell a living soul.

"I'd like to be a superhero,like in the movies, that'd be pretty cool." He looked down at his bag of candy that we bought. Me and Nate always sat outside and looked at the stars it was a good way to pass the time and just to talk. I sat up and looked at him. "That would be pretty cool huh? If only heroes like that existed." Nate look flustered "Well I can make em exist. The world needs as many heroes it can get ya know." I nodded. "I guess you've got a point there". I tried to imagine jittery, paranoid Nate a superhero saving damsels in distress and in his mask and other getup. Dreamers were made for believers I guess. ~xo s.r.a.

"Breaking News" was just the same old thing. Day after day catastrophes happening and not even worrying about it because it was expected to happen. People wanting it to change but don't want to get off the couch and try it themselves. Everybody wants to change the world but no one wants to die. Maybe one day there will be "Breaking News" that's happy and people won't know how to react when it does.

Her lips were like old wallpaper, cracked and faded. And her eyes held curtains that you could not see through. Her skin was a shelf that held memories. She resembled a Victorian mansion. Tall, beautiful, mysterious, and not really cared for on the inside. Inside this Victorian mansion was a wave of color and endless possibilities a cascading amount of wonder and love. All they saw was the outside. The beautiful, but old, outside. ~xo s.r.a

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writing since 2015 · 28 entries · 25 days shown up

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

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25days written

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on this day 11 years ago

Zeila wrote about derived
“After weeks of testimony the jury had finally derived to a conclusion, she was guilty.”

the words Zeila reaches for

nightstatueseyeslightparanoidinsidefamousnowcrimeheadfourcasehomeflowerdifferentwhether