Angela Dykhuis
Bio
Hello, I'm Angie. I am a soul not of this world reincarnated many times. In this lifetime, my brain is a mess; however, I see beauty in all things. I use what I see to paint pictures with words. They are the fragments of a broken mind.
Stories (10)
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The Storm
Clouds gather slowly. The sky becomes dark Teasing the world below with its fiendish intentions. Sketches of sunlight are devoured By an ugly greyness. Silence, like a cancerous mass, Shifts into the surrounding area Rendering it temporarily unconscious. Ga-lump, ga-lump, Just beyond the eye of the storm, Ga-lump, ga-lump, The only sound is the dull throbbing Of a great blue vein. The storm is alive, living, breathing, Sheets of tears falling in the form of rain Penetrate fleshy hills of land. Heavens grumble, roar, SCREAM with fury! Vengeful winds slam doors and tear at walls. Heated skies strike with electric animosity. Cursing the grounds beneath them. Smoke becomes thick as trees burn like matches In a sea of orange - Innocent pawns of nature's wrath Forever singed by fire.
By Angela Dykhuis 4 years ago in Poets
Love's First Flight
A silent bluebird, wings molded to his porcelain body, clings to a synthetic perch atop the storeroom shelf. His feathers, which had been meticulously sculpted by hand, had long lost their luster. Layer upon layer of dust dulls a vibrant blue, which had once mirrored his natural brethren. Every night he sleeps under a blanket of cobwebs; every day he watches the customers admire and fondle the other antiques within his forest. But they never pay much notice to a bird riddled with filth.
By Angela Dykhuis 4 years ago in Fiction









