treat me like i'm your worst lover. Copyright © 2016 by Ella S.

Prey meets predator under a starry night.

may these words be written on my gravestone.

Just two boys on Valentine's Day.

Everything remembered must be forgotten. The gods are glorious, and then they are not -- history is an ongoing clock. It trudges on.

"i. they tell me they 
cannot comprehend art. where art is, whispers reside. ii. i tell them
 that the only art i need are the words that bleed onto paper. iii. they tell me it doesn't work that way. there are compromises for art. sports. science. history. iv. but i want to speak. there are moments that fleet away when i do not store them. there are impulses that dab off when i do not write. v. when i am alive, i burst
open with Slyvia Plath and Robert Frost. my hair fluffs with words. my veins cry with poetry. vi. welcome to my poetry book. i hope you drown in the words you sink in." ©theperfectphoenix Established -- [09-03-2016] Highest Rank : #2 in Poetry. Now A Wattpad Featured Book! [20-05-2016]

Elliot and Julia have a complicated relationship. Since they met in the seventh grade, the only heart-to-heart conversations they've had have been strictly over text. But they don't mind this lack of intimacy. If anything, they enjoy it. Don't think that this lack of heart-to-heart conversations mean they haven't had some, how should we say, interesting moments. Such as when Julia lost her virginity to Elliot. Yes, you read that correctly. It's a long story. It was just one time. Actually, it was four times. In one night. Once in the morning too. But it was just on one occasion. Okay, two occasions. It's a really really long story. Basically this is just a long story of two people with a complicated, never fully defined, relationship. Well, it's not exactly the full story. This is just the highlights. *cover by @soundthealarm*

"Sometimes happiness feels like a chore." A short story chronicling the relationships (and lack thereof) of Drew; in which nights and days are spent curled up in the tear-and-food-stained sheets, with and without the warmth of another living soul, because he has lived like this and he'll probably die like this -- whether he likes it or not. (As if life ever bothered to ask). Otherwise known as: Sleep is for the weak, and love is for those asleep. So Andrew shouldn't wonder why he's virtually a self-induced insomniac who might just very well die of loneliness one day.

She has skin like porcelain. He is a shade like bronze. But when all their differences are put to the side... The Brown Boy and The White Girl indulge in the sparks between them. © 2014 All rights reserved | Short-Story #3 |

Poppy Rose's life changed six years ago when her mother died in an accident caused by her. After grief, blame, depression and suicide attempts came a difficult case of selective mutism. Now, at eighteen, she refuses to speak due to the shame she felt for being responsible. However, things take a turn for the worst when she comes back to school for her senior year. Her life changes when a specific adult comes into the picture, a man who had no intentions of creating a problem. But the fact is, he's her teacher, as well as her cross country coach.