Nostalgic.
Words flow like water but cut like knives.
She flooded the bathroom floor again.
I tried to remind her of all the things that she loved but she lay numb to my presence.
Her violent twitching causes me to remember why,
And I wished then that I could pick up the pieces of broken glass and put them back together.
She deserved far better than this life that gives her sorrow.
I saw it in her eyes,
the glimmer of an end,
of her pain she wished to be numb to.
That's when she died and to my surprise,
I watched as she rose up.
Nostalgic.
Death can be many things but for her she was only shedding old skin.
Rebirth.
About the Creator
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A Proper Introduction
My name is Astella Luna Alaurora, many call me Stella. I was born and raised in Texas under my birth name. My Sophomore year of high school (2012), my mom and I decided to pack up everything and leave the toxic environment we were living in to start anew. Although it was a rough start after living many years in that kind of environment, I graduated high school and got my associates degree at the community college here where I live. Growing up, I always found myself drawn to the things that society didn't understand. I never quite fit in a labeled box like they wanted me to. Since a young age I have trusted my intuition and have created things with my creative talents, mostly my writing and artwork. To me, writing and art was a form of manifesting what I wanted in life; and while I didn't always get what I wanted, the universe made up for it with magickal things. Like showing me that I am worthy of so much more than what I was told growing up. Sometimes we can't see what's right in front of us. We spend so much time looking externally for validation of our worth that we forget that it's internal and not in need of validation.
By LunaStellaFae5 years ago in Humans
A Love Forboding
The chipped stone slope caused unbearable footing. I slid, skirting on my heels. I cast my shield, relinquishing my guard to stay upright. Left with my double-edge and a prayer to the maker, I skated toward my objective. The earthly stubble gave way to solid ground. I found myself restored, a trail of dust in my wake.
By James U. Rizziabout 21 hours ago in Fiction
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