silly meBut that's okay. I'm still pretty cool. And so are you.
Newest
Villanelle NoirLook here--I'm telling you to get away. You're soft, all big doe eyes and love and grace; this city's tough as nails. You shouldn't stay.Villanelle Noir
Angel, I could kneel right here and pray, for how that streetlamp halo lights your face. That's why I'm telling you to get away--
'cause girls like you show up here every day and vanish in the night without a trace. This city's tough as nails. You shouldn't stay.
Believe me, sweetheart, I've got debts to pay and scars no loving sigh's gonna erase. That's why I'm telling you to get away.
Don't cry. Oh, sister,
by ~Reasonably-Sunny
Self-Portrait, Something SharpYou cannot break a mirror—maybe multiply yourself as I have, fragmented and scattered but now focused—just a lock of hair—the corner of a lip— and there I am, a sliver of a girl—staring back. See—at the knife edge of my eye the glint is giddy—guilty, maybe—not a side of myself that I'm used to seeing. Granted—I fill up the glass but I've been half-empty before—and the face reflected back may just be grift. For my part— it's a small one, but it's sharp—the skin is just a sham. Ignore the eyes. The tongue is hidden well-Self-Portrait, Something Sharp
by ~Reasonably-Sunny
Sonnet for AbsenceHe breakfasts opposite an empty chair and on his darker mornings, over tea he tells the seated absence absently how much he loves her, as if she were there. This morning, well aware he is alone he rises restlessly and takes a walk (on other days he doesn’t want to talk— avoids his neighbors and the telephone.)Sonnet for Absence
He cannot bear to look. Where roses grew the garden is reclaimed by weeds once more. His daughter visits, but not frequently (she’s children of her own, and things to do.) His new companion settles on the floor: his shadow, stretched out
by ~Reasonably-Sunny
Timothy Prince Timothy Prince wasn't helping his career. He was soothing his conscience. The position at Mercy didn't pay as well as his job at the neurological clinic in Washington, and the hours were worse, but once he'd made the mistake of mentioning the opening to his mother he had known he would take it, and now he was here, twenty-three minutes into his new job, standing outside the Stroke Unit with a stack of patient files and a strong desire to flee. Dr. McKinnon, the head of radiology, was shaking his hand, and saying how glad they were to have him. There was nothing Timothy could do about it anymore but try to not toTimothy Prince
by ~Reasonably-Sunny
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- Current Residence: The middle bit of the US.
- Tools of the Trade: paper, pencil, cat.
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Just the other day I was like... wow, I haven't thought about DA since, like, 2005.
Hi, S. <3
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I'm not bad, I just draw that way.
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