Ch. 1: Swift VS The Mean Girl

Another day has occurred as Swift is venturing down the halls to get to her class on time. Many girls were chatting about nonsense like fashion, make-up and relationships with other guys their age.

Friend or Foe? The Epic Rivalry Fight!

Swift is out on a walk in Critamis Forest. Her favorite past time (sometimes) is learning how to chirp and whistle like every single bird in the world.

A Sestina For Her

I felt the trance of onrushing years Fell choking at steps of city buildings Scraping the sky nonchalantly, gripping clouds As the focus of my bemusement held

The Man Who Built His Life on Sand

I was staid, somber, failed to be entertained in the ochre sunset, vermillion sea sparkling on the skyline before me. Hints of clouds rise into the Arabian skies as distant

armed with a plunger

armed with a plunger he stares down into the toilet bowl, as the waste he’s just expelled captivates him & a whole swirl of ideas comes flooding like a parade of pummeling

no epitome

there was a time when the delusional blamed what they termed “evil” on “creatures,” “spirits” & “demons”--- all were meant to terrify the living whilst at the same

uninspired

devoid of motivation, emptied & without ideas, creative vision, focus or the ability to brainstorm, s/he enters the night out through the door to her/his dwelling, to define what it is to

Living sparks in the dark

The world will fast collide With its own beginning, Then silence shall reign Supreme again, I surmise. Then there’ll be no more singing. Joyous, choirs shall be silent

Right before your eyes

In a unheated bathtub Numb, let us bathe cold to save. Darn your pockets dear But there’s no money, here Save the bones Of an old Christmas turkey

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