Charlie doesn't speak, so he paints.

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?

My waking thoughts. Also Happy Birthday to a great friend today. ********** A record of some of the thoughts I have. =3 in spoken word poem-y format of course.

"My thoughts about you is a soliloquy of what I felt about you" /a compilation of prose and poems with thoughts and feelings dedicated to the people who made an impact in my life//

"Somehow, they just didn't taste the same when drenched in cold, salty tears." *updated every Saturday and Wednesday and some days in between

These are the lost thought of mine. A book of random poems and scattered thoughts. ©MaskedDreams1 aka Aeris Zarra cover made by me

a one-shot for @nostalgiia's short story 'Oak'

dedicated to the boy who broke my heart.

tacenda (n.) -things better left unsaid... so I write them down, instead. just a bunch of poems i made. cover made by me