Just a little poem I found from way back in my first year of high school. We were supposed to pick a body part that we liked and talk about it. I chose my hands.
These hands of mine
Will never again be beautiful.
I have long since
Calloused their fragile pads.
These hands of mine have caused
Many reasons for my downfall,
And yet
They always surprise me.
They create unthinkable beauties
That they themselves
Have long since lost.
No,
They are far too covered in scars,
They are far too rough,
They are far too saturated in blue pen ink,
They are far too big to be
Those small, beautiful
Little girl hands they once were
Long, long ago.
They have made far too many songs,
Far too many mistakes,
Far too many stories,
Far too many meals,
Far too many sketches,
Far too many braids,
Far too many equations,
Far too many projects,
And far too many goodbyes
To be those delicate things I once owned.
These ugly, battered hands of mine --
These charmingly ugly things --
Are so much stronger than yours. . .
Give a round of applause for fourteen year old Kelleigh for constantly bringing you your daily dose of complete shit and angsty insecurities
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A Collection of Short Stories and Poems
Short StoryThe title basically says it all. This will be a collection of really short stories and poems I have made recently in a creative writing class as warm-ups, so just sit back and enjoy a few chapters of random things based off of random prompts. This...
