Telling Stories II

Tell the world the stories

that you will need to hear

antidotes to darkness

or reprimands for fear Continue reading “Telling Stories II”



Companion to last post, Disintegration. 

How sweet it is when sisters live

in counterpoint melodies

resolving to harmony

punctuated only by companionable silence.

When the morning sizzle of breakfast

replaces anger

and the tears are shared, not inflicted.

how utterly indescribable

is the smallest moment

infused with scents of paradise

and colored with beauty beyond the visible spectrum.

if no eye has seen what is prepared,

nor ear has heard

then how can we even begin to fathom

when even this pale shadow of harmony

five times brighter than the sun

more intense than a rainbow

more welcoming than the scent of home

is so much less than the promise of true communion:

for truly, it is sweet.



The girl often feels like she is surrounded by eggshells; as if her outward persona is as thin and fragile as an eggshell, that at any moment, the thing inside her would break lose and show its ugly head.

The girl fights with a demon, a demon known as depression. It makes her fear being alone because it is when she is alone that the demon can attack. Imagine struggling everyday just to get out of bed, imagine struggling to make yourself do your work everyday when depression wants you to curl up in the corner of a dark room and brood. This was the girl’s past and it is the thing she constantly fears the return of. Despite being surrounded by people who love her and care about her, the girl is afraid of being alone and the return of her demon.

She does not know why causes the…

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