Beauty, they say, is in the eye of the beholder. Lock that away, file that it in a folder. Look into the eyes of your soul, Is it whole? What do you see? Have you ever been free? What have you been through? Did it make you stand taller and feel anew? Do you feel beautiful or do you need validation? You are your own creation. Create Love, not Hate. You control your own fate. Learn from your mistakes. Don't reciprocate or reiterate. Like the Phoenix, rise from the ashes ans bat those lashes. Cuz, Bitch, you Lavish!
About the Creator
Isabel Ana Zavala
Have been loving to write since a child. Never got anything published, I write more for myself. My everyday life. My children, My illnesses. The darkness we all have, The lightness we all want.
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More stories from Isabel Ana Zavala and writers in Poets and other communities.
Alone
Sitting in a cold chair staring at an old picture frame, looking at a face that was once filled with life. Now all alone and terrified, there is no hand to hold. No one to speak my worries to. I feel the toxins slowly course into my veins. A cold sensation runs up my arm and down my spine. The metallic taste in your mouth getting stronger. Legs elevated, blood pressure low. All alone, in a place where death is in the air and all around you. Laying in this cold and eerie recliner hearing the beeping of the machine while it continues to drip the toxins into your veins. Realization kicks in. Am I making the right decision? Will this kill me faster? Mind racing, all alone, no one to run to. All alone, staring at the old picture frame, pleading to God, please remove my loneliness.
By Isabel Ana Zavala5 years ago in Poets
Veil of Subconscious Awakening
Images slide behind my eyelids like film cadres, bursting with meanings. In one moment, I’m speeding down the highway, making the speedometer swing wildly like a frantic pendulum. The next moment, I’m plunging from a falling plane, slowly crashing earthward. At home, I meet black cat’s green, googly eyes staring at me from the cavernous hollowness of the kitchen. When I turn for a moment, it disappears, and all I can see is a pair of blue suede shoes set up against the wall. I pick them up and put them on. When I glimpse at them again, they’ve become black as night, making me blink and flinch.
By Moon Desert5 days ago in Fiction
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