Avid writer of short stories, poetry and prose.
Working on my book, Flightless Wings.
I love my robe. The mirrors are not steamed enough to hide my reflection when I step out of the shower. My loose skin is covered in scars that tell a story I would rather not hear;
By Astrid Nannini2 years ago in Poets
Ten, nine, eight, seven; The trigger releases. Boom. Another life lost.
By Astrid Nannini3 years ago in Poets
Binding shackles closed Tightly around fragile wrists Time, still, holding I
Ephemeral sun; Conceptual, time’s laughter; Forever unfolds.
“If walls could talk.” The man chuckled to himself under his breath as his feet fell heavy on the stairs he was climbing. The familiar jingle of the keys, the switch of the lock on the door. He was done for the night.
By Astrid Nannini3 years ago in Horror
