Keely Staub has grown up. At least that's what she thinks has happened. No longer a naive eighteen year old being introduced to a music industry that's equal parts grandeur and grime, she might even be considered a veteran. At just twenty six, she's lived almost too much of a life in the intervening years since she first came to New York. A great love and a great band, not to mention more than a few unsavoury addictions picked up along the way in the time honoured traditions of the rock stars before her. And she gave it all up - except the rock star part, of course. That was a different Keely Staub, a more innocent and wild one all at the same time. She's determined that person and all the things that came with her will stay in the past, and has a very clear path laid in front of her. A measured, smart, hopefully one day respected, path. The problem is the past refuses to remain the past.

i will shed myself of humanity and hold it within my aching chest, as if it will stop the burning. [ © jude rigor two-thousand-&-thirteen ]

it was in the darkest hours of the day that i felt most comfortable in. a collection of words: [ © victoria g. two thousand and fourteen ] |cover created by -therapy|

the scrape of a prism on us; you're the paintbrush and i am your canvas and together we draw so many convoluted lines on our lives.

A collection of (nonsense) poetry. Cover by veracity

1. the sad story of a broken mind incoherently splattered in words. 2. the dead caricature of someone too far gone to see. 3. not enough. #53 in poetry / #163 in short story (29-10-14)

❝ He got too curious so she finally reveals what makes it so special. ❞ © nate k. 2014

From the Latin 'ardere': "to burn"

❝ he and she, running around sanity. ❞ © nate k. 2014

Quinn scribbles tainted emotions across thin layers of white paper. But to who? To someone who blinks once, sees her, and blinks again-just to make her disappear. To someone who sees her as a symbol of the ocean. To someone who thinks the ocean is disgusting and hideous, filled with trash and pathetic wandering fishes. To someone who believes that Quinn needs to be a size zero to be labeled as 'beautiful.' If she isn't, why in the world will anyone care to love her? She's disgusting. Worthless. An enormous sailboat that makes the world sink. But how long will it take until she sinks herself?