liv declerck
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Losing My Life
It's raining lightly outside, my head rested against the cold glass of the bus window, eyes shut. The numbing vibration of the window rattles my skull. The text message tone of my mobile phone sings out, a few people throwing dirty looks my way at an unmuted device. The text is from a number absent from my phone contacts so of course I click into the chat, curiosity tingling in my fingertips.
By liv declerck5 years ago in Criminal
the art of language
Imagine being able to write so vividly that every detail rises off the paper, the flat words morphing into three-dimensional physical existence. Imagine being able to write so incredibly that your reader begins to drown in the beauty of every letter, pleasantly overwhelmed with the intimacy and perfection of everything you say, every detail you describe. Imagine being able to write with breathtaking balance, the cohesion and clarity of your description aligning beautifully with the intense atmosphere your words conjure. Crystal tears stream down your face as you read, each sentence filling your heart with an emotion you never knew existed as you are transported to another dimension. You are so overwhelmingly deep in every word I say; you can’t even look away from the paper. You are thirsty for this feeling that has taken over your body and soul. The world I have created within black letters on white paper comes to life bursting with colour and flowers and stars. You experience the scene I describe as if it is a present moment within your real life. And then suddenly you realise I haven’t even described a scene or memory at all. Imagine being able to write as beautifully as I can.
By liv declerck5 years ago in Poets
