Today is a spinning day.
A hurricane of gossamer
thoughts and sounds whirl in my head.
Something intangible grasps
the gnarled tree trunks and uplifts
its weeping limbs. Swirling.
Whispers beckon from the window.
Scratching graphite on paper trudges
restlessly through these aching ears,
a call of unsolicited freedom taunting,
Daunting my hands that work so hard.
I smile on the inside and imagine
clouds and rain instead of a sad pencil,
stories with a lit fire, or shouting
from a deserted hilltop.
But that won't happen.
I'm just a girl, dreaming in maths class.
YOU ARE READING
Tears of Bliss
Teen FictionI never wanted to be an outcast. It sort of just...happened. Eccentricities and downfalls, hubris and felix felicis. This is a world where anything can happen. This ongoing collection of poetry and short stories is an outlet for creativity, for wh...
