Poet | Writer | Musician | Corn Girl | Bird Crazy | þ/ð Advocate | Mothman Lover | Plague Professional
89 posts
The Funny People In My Head Are Screaming To Be Let Out Again Yet I Have No Words To Free Them.
The funny people in my head are screaming to be let out again yet I have no words to free them.
Help end writer's block and free the innocent characters of their prisons.
Call now to donate at 1-800-PLEASEIJUSTWANTTOWRITE
-
bloggingbeing liked this · 1 year ago
More Posts from Kind-of-an-author
To an Abandoned World
An abandoned world
being overtaken by
ambitious verdure.
I've been hiding from the clown on the mobile app. Scared to check and see if he's still lurking.
Thinking about the Oculate Being
Autumn is a state of being
It is the sigh of the wind,
The smell of fresh, decaying things
Soaked in tears or
Forced down closer to Sheol
By our feet.
It is a raindrop
Falling so perfectly on your upturned face,
It slides down your cheek
Like a tear.
Autumn is laying in bed at night, lost.
It is crying out with your whole spirit
For warmth
For adventure
For something you can just barely touch.
Just out of sight.
Autumn is the slow decline of all things
The knowledge that we are getting older
And we haven't done
As much as we wanted to.
That our younger selves would be
Enamored
Or maybe
Disappointed.
Autumn is the slow decline of all things
So that something new
Can be born out of it.
Or something old can be born again--
A Phoenix red as falling leaves.
Autumn is a state of being.
Victor Frankenstein is just like me frfr