She twirled the spiral pasta on the end of her fork, watching it whiz around and around in a hypnotising cycle. It helped to block out the loud voices coming from her parents’ bedroom down the hall. To block out the fact that her name came up too many times. It was all her fault anyway; she had had another incident at school.
Kira
unravelling, falling out of control, floating on air like a weightless parachute,
descending down the chimney chute
who knows that climbing a spiral staircase could be so deadly.
No matter how I envision it, it’s smooth and cool like metal. All but twisting locks of hair appears a few degrees colder in the mind’s eye when contorted into such a shape—everything but that warmth trapped inside restless ringlets. Everything else is a merciless slide, a sub-zero whirlpool, tapering out until there is nothing but fingers reaching up from the middle, and if you’re lucky enough yours is a funnel, you might be spit out into an empty world with most of your pieces intact. You’re allowed to cry at the forgiveness offered by that mercy. When there is no pin-prick escape at the end of your tumble, the rapid repetition, the transition from too slow and safe to warrant action to too fast to react—
I feel like it’s all been said before.
Thrushes…I was running a few days ago, and I heard a bunch of Swainson’s thrushes singing their flattering spiral song. They bring back so many camping memories. I love the sound of them.
Falling down the spiral, Alice went. “Oh no!” She screamed. But at the end, was the answer to everything she was looking for. The universe sent her her soul mate, her true life meaning, her one dream come true. What was this thing? This everything? It was herself, and that was all she needed.
we must honor the inner child
reconcile with the exile
denounce the vile
embrace the wild
sanctify the lands defiled
undo words that once beguiled
connect and soar and sing and smile
break free from the pull of the ancient spiral
I can’t stop myself. I can’t look at myself in the mirror.
I fucking hate what I see and I hate what he sees more.
I know–I fucking know he thinks I’m disgusting, but he won’t say it. I know I’m disgusting because I think I’m disgusting–I know I’m disgusting.
I look at my hands, I look at the bruises on my neck, my arms, my legs. The bite marks. The smell that I’ve been spent.
I can’t stop. I need it.
I want to stop. If I don’t… If I can’t…
I don’t want to know what’s going to happen to me.
The downward spiral came out when I was in high school. I bought it with my babysitting money and brought it home. Then one day my parents saw it and they flipped out because it had an explicit lyrics sticker on it. They took my CD away and threw it in the trash can. I dug it out of the trash and kept it, listening to it only when they weren’t home. I really enjoyed that CD even though even before or ever since I have not enjoyed such loud noisy music.
Zhelana
I spiral down a seemingly unending circle of depressive tendencies. This probably isn’t healthy, I know, what I’m doing. Forgetting to eat. Not sleeping much. Not sharing my burdens. But i guess that’s what it’s like when you’re a superhero.
Zainab
I couldn’t imagine what would be stranger than this. I don’t know how I managed to spiral into this mess, and I wouldn’t be able to get out. No wonder Johnathan was so done with me, he couldn’t keep his grasp on something that kept slipping away. It wasn’t my fault that I always pushed the people that I love most. I care to much to get others stuck in my hurricane.
I danced around the ballroom, holding Valerie’s hand in mine. She smiled down at me. God, why did she have to be taller than me? I grasped her hand harder and took the lead. We spun around in spirals, dancing to our own beat, not caring about the classy music in the background. We were different, and that’s what made us special.
My thoughts have spiraled down into chaos. I don’t know how we’re going to get out of an elevator hundreds of feet below the ocean, but there’s gotta be a way, right? We could, um, swim or something like that. I can’t die with my mortal enemy right next to me!
bealey
a spiral shape I move around and around getting closer to the center , I swirls down the drain into the sewer. I am sucked up by the tornado and carried off. Wjhat will become of me?
gary
The bony helix was brittle and smooth, as well as bleached by the centuries. Ariadna couldn’t even begin to guess what sort of creature it had originally belonged to. Something that her primitive mammalian ancestors no doubt would have feared.
I’m spiraling out .I’ve already written on this word today. Whoops. This is a mess. She’s a mess but she’s beautiful. What do I do for her? Not again. Not this again.
Somehow, I figured that maybe everything WOULDN’T spiral out of control; that everything would just work out, and I wouldn’t have to pick up the pieces of something that I didn’t expect to break. Well, here I am, collecting shards in a dust bin, scratching up the palms of my hands while doing so because I don’t have a broom. Here I am, in the middle of Portland, Oregon, smoking a cigarette outside a piercing shop even though I hate the smell and taste of cigarettes.
Belinda Roddie
You spiral in my dreams. Thunderclouds swarming around the storm’s eye. Handsome face, the most handsome I’ve ever seen. Sparking.
Ella Emma Em
When you spiral out of control, you lose yourself. You lose your morals. The ground underneath you gives way and you fall. It feels like freedom but it tastes like loneliness and hopelessness.
beth
The downward spiral
tight and flimsy
Tipsy,
You and the fire
of hate.
You can’t berate me
anymore
I won’t participate
in this war
Forlorn – you know.
Forlorn – you now.
Emily
I looked deep into my soul, trying, desperately to find the memories of my real self, needing, wanting someone to pull me out of the ocean of my own troubles and memories, that was drowning me.
just laugh, it’ll open up that door down the hallway
that was locked,
now you’ve got the machette in your arsenal,
its no farse here and now,
creativty sparks like a lamp that was dormant,
when the heart tickles the soul,
vessels in the chest become a sunny-day’s news informant.
spiral fries. my daughter calls them spring surprise. they bought them at a&w today. then she came home and had a tantrum. she said she wanted to sleep on the staircase. I said OK. she then continued to lie down on the step.
naz abas ng
The man showed the boy a spiral. “You see, this is a shape of the unknown,” he said.
right hook put a baby in a spiral
he just says it weird
people get listened to because
they sound different
\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/////
what else spirals
my fate
my eyes
my love
spinning
spinning
becoming more complex
bound
and tight
The light, the flashes, a whirlwind of visual magic, her eyes followed the spiral of sparkles up into the blue sunny sky.
She twirled the spiral pasta on the end of her fork, watching it whiz around and around in a hypnotising cycle. It helped to block out the loud voices coming from her parents’ bedroom down the hall. To block out the fact that her name came up too many times. It was all her fault anyway; she had had another incident at school.
unravelling, falling out of control, floating on air like a weightless parachute,
descending down the chimney chute
who knows that climbing a spiral staircase could be so deadly.
No matter how I envision it, it’s smooth and cool like metal. All but twisting locks of hair appears a few degrees colder in the mind’s eye when contorted into such a shape—everything but that warmth trapped inside restless ringlets. Everything else is a merciless slide, a sub-zero whirlpool, tapering out until there is nothing but fingers reaching up from the middle, and if you’re lucky enough yours is a funnel, you might be spit out into an empty world with most of your pieces intact. You’re allowed to cry at the forgiveness offered by that mercy. When there is no pin-prick escape at the end of your tumble, the rapid repetition, the transition from too slow and safe to warrant action to too fast to react—
I feel like it’s all been said before.
Thrushes…I was running a few days ago, and I heard a bunch of Swainson’s thrushes singing their flattering spiral song. They bring back so many camping memories. I love the sound of them.
Falling down the spiral, Alice went. “Oh no!” She screamed. But at the end, was the answer to everything she was looking for. The universe sent her her soul mate, her true life meaning, her one dream come true. What was this thing? This everything? It was herself, and that was all she needed.
alice grabs my hand
we go down together
unknowing of what’s to come
i put my full trust in her
pulling me farther and farther down
i’ve gone mad
we must honor the inner child
reconcile with the exile
denounce the vile
embrace the wild
sanctify the lands defiled
undo words that once beguiled
connect and soar and sing and smile
break free from the pull of the ancient spiral
I can’t stop myself. I can’t look at myself in the mirror.
I fucking hate what I see and I hate what he sees more.
I know–I fucking know he thinks I’m disgusting, but he won’t say it. I know I’m disgusting because I think I’m disgusting–I know I’m disgusting.
I look at my hands, I look at the bruises on my neck, my arms, my legs. The bite marks. The smell that I’ve been spent.
I can’t stop. I need it.
I want to stop. If I don’t… If I can’t…
I don’t want to know what’s going to happen to me.
my life spiraled into your love and nothing was the same
no one before you loved me the way you did my king
I am my beloved’s and he is mine
The downward spiral came out when I was in high school. I bought it with my babysitting money and brought it home. Then one day my parents saw it and they flipped out because it had an explicit lyrics sticker on it. They took my CD away and threw it in the trash can. I dug it out of the trash and kept it, listening to it only when they weren’t home. I really enjoyed that CD even though even before or ever since I have not enjoyed such loud noisy music.
I spiral down a seemingly unending circle of depressive tendencies. This probably isn’t healthy, I know, what I’m doing. Forgetting to eat. Not sleeping much. Not sharing my burdens. But i guess that’s what it’s like when you’re a superhero.
I couldn’t imagine what would be stranger than this. I don’t know how I managed to spiral into this mess, and I wouldn’t be able to get out. No wonder Johnathan was so done with me, he couldn’t keep his grasp on something that kept slipping away. It wasn’t my fault that I always pushed the people that I love most. I care to much to get others stuck in my hurricane.
I danced around the ballroom, holding Valerie’s hand in mine. She smiled down at me. God, why did she have to be taller than me? I grasped her hand harder and took the lead. We spun around in spirals, dancing to our own beat, not caring about the classy music in the background. We were different, and that’s what made us special.
My thoughts have spiraled down into chaos. I don’t know how we’re going to get out of an elevator hundreds of feet below the ocean, but there’s gotta be a way, right? We could, um, swim or something like that. I can’t die with my mortal enemy right next to me!
a spiral shape I move around and around getting closer to the center , I swirls down the drain into the sewer. I am sucked up by the tornado and carried off. Wjhat will become of me?
The bony helix was brittle and smooth, as well as bleached by the centuries. Ariadna couldn’t even begin to guess what sort of creature it had originally belonged to. Something that her primitive mammalian ancestors no doubt would have feared.
I’m spiraling out .I’ve already written on this word today. Whoops. This is a mess. She’s a mess but she’s beautiful. What do I do for her? Not again. Not this again.
Somehow, I figured that maybe everything WOULDN’T spiral out of control; that everything would just work out, and I wouldn’t have to pick up the pieces of something that I didn’t expect to break. Well, here I am, collecting shards in a dust bin, scratching up the palms of my hands while doing so because I don’t have a broom. Here I am, in the middle of Portland, Oregon, smoking a cigarette outside a piercing shop even though I hate the smell and taste of cigarettes.
You spiral in my dreams. Thunderclouds swarming around the storm’s eye. Handsome face, the most handsome I’ve ever seen. Sparking.
When you spiral out of control, you lose yourself. You lose your morals. The ground underneath you gives way and you fall. It feels like freedom but it tastes like loneliness and hopelessness.
The downward spiral
tight and flimsy
Tipsy,
You and the fire
of hate.
You can’t berate me
anymore
I won’t participate
in this war
Forlorn – you know.
Forlorn – you now.
I looked deep into my soul, trying, desperately to find the memories of my real self, needing, wanting someone to pull me out of the ocean of my own troubles and memories, that was drowning me.
just laugh, it’ll open up that door down the hallway
that was locked,
now you’ve got the machette in your arsenal,
its no farse here and now,
creativty sparks like a lamp that was dormant,
when the heart tickles the soul,
vessels in the chest become a sunny-day’s news informant.
spiral fries. my daughter calls them spring surprise. they bought them at a&w today. then she came home and had a tantrum. she said she wanted to sleep on the staircase. I said OK. she then continued to lie down on the step.
The man showed the boy a spiral. “You see, this is a shape of the unknown,” he said.
right hook put a baby in a spiral
he just says it weird
people get listened to because
they sound different
\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/////
what else spirals
my fate
my eyes
my love
spinning
spinning
becoming more complex
bound
and tight