broken twigs
laid on
fresh soil,
the sound
of boots
stepping on them
felt familiar
to my ears.
from the time
a fireplace
crackled and
your embrace
warmed
the coldest
night in years.
i miss those days
and the heat
of your chest
that erased
my fears.
She thought of herself as a twig. She was small and frail and knew it was only a matter of time before she was broken. Imagine her surprise when she found just the opposite.
A sharp snap underfoot, my heart dropping at the sound. I had known that fleeing would make some sort of sound and it was really just wishing thinking that I would run silently. But it heard.
When you have a mom like his, you learn from an early age to rely on no one. You wake yourself up to prepare for school. You fix your own breakfast, possibly hers, too, and adjust her legs on the couch before she finds her drunken ass on the floor. You also master the art of letting go of people before they grow on you. Before he becomes that twig that got attached to your branch and you ended up forgetting who you were before he happened. Make sure to crush it and throw it behind you.
She was so skinny they called her a twig. Her friends were so jealous of her looks, but honestly, the cost was so high. She would love to share how toxic her relationship with food was. Days would go by without nothing other than water and a tomato or two. She was always sick, she was deeply unhappy. But she couldn’t stop now; she couldn’t go back to looking like she did as a kid.
I think of bare branches, like in winter. Or with dew on them. Small drops.
I like winter. I guess I like twigs too then.
Now I’m thinking of kindling for campfires.
NQ
Not much it was. A feeble attempt at being the dragon in the grass he wished he could be, rather than the snake that lies in dirt. Theres nothing to blame, just not meant for this sort of life it was. Once severed, never remembered
I don’t know what to write, I guess 30 seconds are gone now, I still don’t know what to say oh ok, it’s probably getting to 60 seconds now. Halleluiah hope this twig will get passed, is this like a test? I don’t like taking a test
suma
I don’t know what to write, I guess 30 seconds are gone now, I still don’t know what to write,……oh ok, it’s probably getting to 60 seconds now. Halleluiah
broken twigs
laid on
fresh soil,
the sound
of boots
stepping on them
felt familiar
to my ears.
from the time
a fireplace
crackled and
your embrace
warmed
the coldest
night in years.
i miss those days
and the heat
of your chest
that erased
my fears.
She thought of herself as a twig. She was small and frail and knew it was only a matter of time before she was broken. Imagine her surprise when she found just the opposite.
The small segment, wrinkled bark like knees in a swimming pool, inch-long, just starting out, knobby and stretching, reaching out to the sky.
A sharp snap underfoot, my heart dropping at the sound. I had known that fleeing would make some sort of sound and it was really just wishing thinking that I would run silently. But it heard.
When you have a mom like his, you learn from an early age to rely on no one. You wake yourself up to prepare for school. You fix your own breakfast, possibly hers, too, and adjust her legs on the couch before she finds her drunken ass on the floor. You also master the art of letting go of people before they grow on you. Before he becomes that twig that got attached to your branch and you ended up forgetting who you were before he happened. Make sure to crush it and throw it behind you.
She was so skinny they called her a twig. Her friends were so jealous of her looks, but honestly, the cost was so high. She would love to share how toxic her relationship with food was. Days would go by without nothing other than water and a tomato or two. She was always sick, she was deeply unhappy. But she couldn’t stop now; she couldn’t go back to looking like she did as a kid.
twig
Hmm… that’s a hard one.
I think of Twiggy. Both the female and the robot.
Twinkie, because I typo’d Twiggy wrong at first.
I think of an actual twig, of course.
I think of tweak…
I think of bare branches, like in winter. Or with dew on them. Small drops.
I like winter. I guess I like twigs too then.
Now I’m thinking of kindling for campfires.
Not much it was. A feeble attempt at being the dragon in the grass he wished he could be, rather than the snake that lies in dirt. Theres nothing to blame, just not meant for this sort of life it was. Once severed, never remembered
I don’t know what to write, I guess 30 seconds are gone now, I still don’t know what to say oh ok, it’s probably getting to 60 seconds now. Halleluiah hope this twig will get passed, is this like a test? I don’t like taking a test
I don’t know what to write, I guess 30 seconds are gone now, I still don’t know what to write,……oh ok, it’s probably getting to 60 seconds now. Halleluiah