Trish Of Art
Bio
Writing is the way we communicate our deepest thoughts and greatest fears. My words portray my views on the world, the deeper thoughts that prevent my sleep, and places I wish I can escape to.
Stories (2)
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Tulips In The Garden
Every spring there comes a time when the flowers of my garden bloom. They adorn the green, grassy landscape with a rainbow of beauty in all shapes and sizes. The yellow tulips are my favorite. I care for them for months on end, washing their delicate petals, and cleaning their fragile stems. Their beauty can only be obtained one day of every year. When it is time for me to sit and have a spot of tea with an old friend. Yellow was her favorite color and the warm soil reminds me of her once beating heart when it slips through my fingers. What a tragic day it was when she left this earth, a day that me nor this garden will ever forget. In the early morning, I watch as the petals expand, revealing a gorgeous bright yellow center. Tears stream down my face as I envision her short yellow dress she loved to twirl in. The same dress she’d be wearing when I see my dearest friend with a cup of her favorite jasmine green tea, four cubes of sugar.
By Trish Of Art5 years ago in Humans
When I Lost Him
What does it mean when the person who is suppose to love you unconditionally makes you feel worthless? I think about the times I’d crawl up the stairs to pack my bag, tears streaming down my face, because the court of law forced me to go. Three days every other week, those three days that you had to be a father was too much for you huh? But this conversation proved to be too much for the both of us because here I sit, silent, praying for my lungs to keep breathing, for my heart to keep beating because the pain I feel inside is killing me.
By Trish Of Art5 years ago in Families
