Fires climb the hills,
Smoke drifts through an open door,
Still, I do not move.
About the Creator
Siege A.
A neuroscience student with fantastical ideas that have no place in science (at least not yet:)).
me, me, me
when i read back my poetry it screams “me, me, me” on my screen in bold letters and i can’t shut it up — most days, i cannot make any other words out; i want to throttle a thousand versions of the me gone by, i want to throw myself from a figurative balcony, i want to sink a sword into every pen i’ve held
By angela hepworth3 days ago in Poets
Magic
Note from the Author: I want to let you know that this is an unusual story, and it has been written purely from whatever is in my unconscious mind, because before I start writing, I get into a flow state that reaches my unconsciousness. I also write in my subconscious mind, which is like a mid-flow state between the conscious and unconscious mind.
By Denise Larkin7 days ago in Fiction
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