Birds chirp
Light flares
Pounding headache
no one to care
Pale stones
hold no warmth.
Nausea hits
it's getting old.
Lukewarm coffee
Styrofoam cups
People mumble
trip over feet
slightly stumble
Bloom of blue
a queer hue,
lines my arms
from times I wandered
way too far
A tick in my head,
a scratch on my neck
What once was fiction
became my addiction
YOU ARE READING
Creative Writing 11 Journal Works
Short StoryThis is a compilation of different works from my creative writing 11 class so different parts can vary from poetry to short stories to obscure works. All in all, more of an obscure journal of work rather than a concise story
