dr.verse

Joined August 2021

5 stories

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My words are sweeter than syrup, stronger than whiskey, cut deeper knives, but the bloodshed is only internally

Stories (5)

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Is blood thicker than water?
As she stared into the mirror, the cuts on her face seemed usual. They hurt but not as much as her soul. She could cover this with makeup. She was skilled in that art at least. No one would notice her anyways. As she walked through aisles of supermarkets, no one would glance at her twice anyways. She was a black woman, hidden behind a jacket in the heat of summer. They assumed she was invisible anyways. No one ever saw her unless they needed her. When was she ever really needed anyways? Except to wipe the tears of others as she absorbed the rations of love they coated in deceit. She was accustomed to these wounds because she watched her own mother cover them up. If her mother could, then what was her excuse. She was built to be strong. If not strong, then she was weak. She would be labeled as a victim, and no one had pity for a black woman victim.
By dr.verse4 years ago in Fiction
Big Waves Like The Ocean
There’s something about being the protagonist. We love an underdog. We cheer for Ironman and can relate to Spiderman. The person that everyone expected to lose, wins in the end. That’s hope right there. It is the common belief that “ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE!”, in the best Kevin Garnett voice I can fathom. The “bad guy” isn’t the smartest, he lacks heart, he believes in numbers while we believe in positive vibes. That’s why characters like Harry Potter are our favs. It is the end of suffering. A state of union with eternity. The pain was just a set up for success. The trials and tribulations were the journey to the top. We gave it one more last try and we made “it”. The “it” is anything we have desired. These stories make great storylines for books and movies, but what about the average joe. What happens when we fail in real life. Where is the extra chance, the come-up stories for the poverty, and the blessings for the weak? We leave these stories and theaters feeling like we could do the same things they could. Like life will just align us with us our own destiny written on the back of a golden coin. We seek our existentialism in the lull of everyday life. We clock into our 9-5’s looking for the unexpected twist that lands us rich. The mouse wheel keeps spinning because we still have to eat. Those dreams can wait for the weekend because today is Monday and we have responsibilities. But just imagine if today was our last day. If today was the last day to live, would we just clock into work and leave our dreams for nighttime? I doubt it. How do we achieve mindfulness when yesterday we were depressed and anxiety about tomorrow is demanding overtime.
By dr.verse4 years ago in Humans
Truth
According to my astrology chart, I am a Leo sun rising. I am not entirely sure what that means but they say it means that I am supposed
By dr.verse4 years ago in Poets
I'm Tired
I’m tired. Like the weight of my shoulders are challenging the weight of my feet. I’m tired. Like my eyelids are weak but my will has already left for the evening.
By dr.verse4 years ago in Poets
For without rain, there would be no flowers
Raina tucked the spines of her lovers in the spines of her journals because they were too spineless to love her. She releases her vitality upon the lines of paper that only have the strength to withhold the affray within her core. The agony is unabated. It reminds her of the earthquakes, one calls legs, she tries to stand on. It reminds her that once again someone could not stay. She is reminded that is just a home for lost souls who need light. Her hands riddled with calluses of dried smiles gone often too soon. Every backache can be traced from her helping someone else up. Every spot on her arms is from a pop of grease from feeding a body that is alive but still sheep. Every wrinkle is proof that wisdom comes with time.
By dr.verse4 years ago in Motivation

dr.verse

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Stories .css-1svwz57-Text{display:inline-block;color:var(--text-default-mute);}(5)

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Is blood thicker than water?

Big Waves Like The Ocean

Truth

I'm Tired

For without rain, there would be no flowers

Stories (5)