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Literature Text
You garden bloom in blood- bright red flowers to which I did not know the name. Despite the neglecting and overgrown state of the rest of your garden, these peculiar flora sprouted as if it was spring.
It is not spring, however.
Winter was heavily coating everything it could reach in snow. I can feel snowflakes melting into my uncovered mess of brown hair.
I walk past the strange flowers, up to your doorstep. I knock twice.
No answer comes from the other side.
I turn the doorknob and sigh when it clicked open. It seems you were not only neglecting your garden. I open your unlocked door and enter a dusty room.
It looks as if you left in a hurry, which made my frown. You never left your home. You found your scientific abode far too comforting.
I walk slowly over the wooden floors, my own hollow footsteps becomes ominous to me. You like the quiet and so I don't question it at first. The silence continue when I enter your study. I glance at your lab table filled with beakers, teat tubes and what-nots. There is a thin layer of dust coating them. I stop.
You do not like dust.
I frantically look around the room, spotting a torn piece of paper on your study desk. Black ink is calligraphied accross is in a hurriedly manner. I cross the room and anxiously reach for it, half - expecting the ink to smear against my fingers.
It is completely dry.
I tentatively bring the paper closer. I frown, thinking maybe I'm reading the words wrong but the words remain the same after a blinked twice:
The red is blood.
A strange hissing sounds draw my attention to the window next to me to find the peculiar red flowers ranking up against it.
My heart freezes as I realize they have teeth.
It is not spring, however.
Winter was heavily coating everything it could reach in snow. I can feel snowflakes melting into my uncovered mess of brown hair.
I walk past the strange flowers, up to your doorstep. I knock twice.
No answer comes from the other side.
I turn the doorknob and sigh when it clicked open. It seems you were not only neglecting your garden. I open your unlocked door and enter a dusty room.
It looks as if you left in a hurry, which made my frown. You never left your home. You found your scientific abode far too comforting.
I walk slowly over the wooden floors, my own hollow footsteps becomes ominous to me. You like the quiet and so I don't question it at first. The silence continue when I enter your study. I glance at your lab table filled with beakers, teat tubes and what-nots. There is a thin layer of dust coating them. I stop.
You do not like dust.
I frantically look around the room, spotting a torn piece of paper on your study desk. Black ink is calligraphied accross is in a hurriedly manner. I cross the room and anxiously reach for it, half - expecting the ink to smear against my fingers.
It is completely dry.
I tentatively bring the paper closer. I frown, thinking maybe I'm reading the words wrong but the words remain the same after a blinked twice:
The red is blood.
A strange hissing sounds draw my attention to the window next to me to find the peculiar red flowers ranking up against it.
My heart freezes as I realize they have teeth.
![[OPEN] Adoptable #EC000139](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/3a5f6192-0887-4a94-8d64-334eb14715fe/dgok4u8-e3b0598d-9397-4b22-97ea-b43728cc3503.png/v1/fit/w_375,h_563,q_70,strp/_open__adoptable__ec000139_by_oka_echo_dgok4u8-375w.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.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.AGA0Env40FgaPNs_ey0jCBVa0937QE3ReLXDPcL3TF4)
Literature
sleep drugs
my mind is numb,
but buzzing.
humming monotones from behind
padlocked doors,
imagined to keep it all out.
he told me he couldn't sleep and i gave him
my bottle of melatonin (i can't sleep either but
that's okay. he needs it more than i do).
there's a constant jumpstart and
a rumble like an engine and a
crash course of
disastrous thoughts and
i'm back to pre-prom week with all the
car-crash videos and warnings and
people with their lives
spinning before their eyes and then
nothing.
still.
an eternal stop,
the fury of a hurricane and then
you meet the eye of the storm but never make it past the calm.
he said it's supposed to give you weird
Literature
Ganges.
i have been dreaming in rivers.
it started when those palms of
yours skated into the corners of
my imagination, soaked in thick
incense smoke and wreathed with
the scars of a thousand births and
rebirths, a thousand more deaths
and re-deaths. it started when
those palms pressed up against
the palisades, slipping quiet prayers
in sanskrit between the roman numerals
and grecian arches of a life spent spinning
like foucault's pendulum below the domes
built by my ancestors' hands - their palms
plastered and rock-worn, calloused
and beat
Literature
reasons i quit writing
-it hasn't rained in two months
so i haven't been sad enough.
this one's a lie. it has rained.
i have been sad enough.
-i have been practicing the art
of escapism;
except i haven't been practicing,
i've been drowning, and is this even
an art.
-what even is art, anyway
-i ran out of the only pens i can write with
and isn't it sad
how dependent i am
-i am more loyal to my pens
than my words are to me
-i could have bought more but that involves
leaving the house which is hard to do
when you are practicing ways to disappear
-i am afraid of writing because what if
one day i love my poetry
& then i lose the ability to write like
Suggested Collections
Eleventh entry for 
I didn't use a prompt for this one x.x though I tried writting it sort of with scifi/apocalyptic theme in mind...I've been written it on and off for a week or so.. but I think it's more or less okay to post now x.x (Sorry for any errors..)
Words: 315
Thanks for reading! o.o
I didn't use a prompt for this one x.x though I tried writting it sort of with scifi/apocalyptic theme in mind...I've been written it on and off for a week or so.. but I think it's more or less okay to post now x.x (Sorry for any errors..)
Words: 315
Thanks for reading! o.o
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Comments3
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Freeeeeeaky! Good on you experimenting with new styles. This is perfectly chilling.