Leticia Williams (Tish)
Bio
What a spectacular view @ Vocal! ❤️ Reading various authors, a plethora of masterpieces! Why write? Well, why breathe? Wakes up the soul, takes it dancing for a night. Writing is my ticklish spot; masochism. Mixed-nut emotions making sense!
Stories (6)
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Definitely
As we entered the room, only I was close enough to hear her soft sigh, close enough to catch the scent of apple? No...peach. Definitely peach-flavored - the obnoxious protrusion in the side of her puckered mouth. Adorable. I could taste her sweet, anxious sigh on my lips. Overwhelmed. Ah! Peach-flavored Jolly Rancher.
By Leticia Williams (Tish)4 years ago in Poets
Always With Love
You're not weak for crying. You're not weak for caring too much. You're not alone. He has a plan for you. It's okay to feel overwhelmed, to where it hurts to even breathe. Feel it all. Breathe it in. Because eventually..."This Too Shall Pass".
By Leticia Williams (Tish)4 years ago in Motivation
Standing Ovation
It was always meant to be a tragedy. But your blissful ignorance added unexpected comedic twists. Brava! I never encountered someone who put infinite value into daydreaming, believing it’d come to fruition. I discovered, surprisingly, it only enhanced the build up for when the villain would leave her covered in scars; harsh reality is the only real hero. Reducing dreams to ashes and playing nightmares of what will never be. Huge fan! Fortunately for me, I’m close to the writer, so I can confidently inform you, fairy tales are out of your league. They were never written with you in mind. Unfortunately, for you and your desperate need of a happy ending…well, I don’t want to spoil the ending. I’ll give you two stars, a tip off the hat if you will, to acknowledge your commitment to the role. Pathetic as it may be and wow, sometimes unbearable to watch. Too hypnotized to look away from the car wreck. A wise person would’ve probably tossed in the towel, and accepted their traumatic defeat, but not you. Your blissful ignorance hung by a thread and your unexpected high pain tolerance could’ve been edited out of the script. But then I wouldn’t have felt your torment. I would’ve missed the comic relief as it presented an opportunity for refills and bathroom breaks. I am thankful I had enough to drink and didn’t feel the need to relieve myself. And all of those heartfelt wishes you made on falling stars,crossing your fingers that this time would work, expertly created great appreciation for your many painful disappointments. So much crying; never laughed so hard. Especially since those stars were falling to their deaths, only to then fade into nothing. Cease to exist. Kind of like you, desperately clinging onto your hope, to your faith, only to have them abandon you. What a beautiful scene! I bought front row seats to cheer you on as bits and pieces of you left a trail of blood on stage. Could almost touch it. The curtain fell hard only to shatter what was left of you. Encore! Pity, you thought you could rewrite the script. You’re no Edgar Allen Poe. And now here we are. Take a bow before you crumble. Death is a beautiful comedy. Your ignorance to accept the inevitable deserves a standing ovation.
By Leticia Williams (Tish)4 years ago in Poets
Its Perfidious Ink
Everyone has a story. An inherent past. Whether it’s messy, modelesque, chaotic, sparkling or painful, it's the beautiful collaboration of how one came to be. One thing we all have in common is that each one of our stories began with pages cemented in someone else’s hand-writing, written in permanent ink. Our Genesis was created without our consent. Stained prologues that you can’t abscond from and ignorantly deem obsolete. It will subconsciously dictate haunting works if you can’t finally ascertain all of its truths. Hiding from your inception will only overwhelm you into a self-destructing abyss. These pages can’t be destroyed. These detailed recollections can’t be forgotten. You can’t erase your past.
By Leticia Williams (Tish)4 years ago in Fiction
