Historias de Wistful

Connor Evans hates Christmas. He didn't always hate it--last year he was just as excited as his friends to be spending the week down in their "Cabin In The Woods," especially because his best friend of ten years (and more recently, the girl he had developed feelings for) had spontaneously agreed to come with them after years of opting out. But the day after he finally confesses his feelings for her, she disappears. The next year, Connor is moping outside the cabin, unable to join his friends' merrymaking, when he sees a silvery figure between the trees. As he draws closer, he sees that it looks a lot like Julia . . . Could it be that her soul had lingered in the hopes that she would one day find him again? *** Best Rankings: #18 in grieving | 6/09/2023 #5 in cinnamon | 6/09/2023 #7 in canbininthewoods | 6/09/2023 #43 in julia | 6/09/2023

𝙰 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 - 𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚊 𝙳𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖

A collection of poems I've written over time. Some are whimsical and carefree, most are thoughtful and reflective, and a select few are dark and brooding. I tend towards free verse, so, to those who don't like free verse: beware!

I have bad handwriting and needed somewhere to write this

Little blips and insights for late night creations. Tidbits of thoughts, ideas, and theories of Casper.

Sometimes my heart speaks and my hand writes, this is what they call poetry. But my heart is rough and imperfect and so my words are rough and imperfect. My only solace is that they are mine and they are true.

I run up his steps and rock back and forth undecidedly. He doesn't know I'm coming. At this point I should knock, but if I don't then everything stays normal and predictable, that's good right? What would he do if I ask what I want to ask, it's a dangerous risk. I wipe my sweaty palms on my ripped black jeans and brush curly strands of auburn hair out my hazel green eyes. I knock and his voice rings clear in reply, a rich deep sound. His response was a simple "I'm coming." Does he already have low expectations for who's here? Stop overthinking it! He opens the door. I glance at what he's wearing, a black sleeveless tee, sweatpants, and Adidas slides. His bare arms are lightly toned and tanned. I glimpse his eyes, blue eyes with rings of green, then glance at the floor, a flush rising in my features. "I was wondering if you had the time to hang out.... or something?" I blurt. Or something, what the heck. He looks shocked for a second then his usual smile comes to his face. "You know you could have just texted me." He muses. I melt and he laughs softly at my reaction. Why didn't I think of that? "No, I mean yes... stop laughing at me." I stutter. --------------------------------------- Joining the lights is a story of complicated insides, depression, anxiety, with a large helping of love.

"What is something you've always wanted?" We've all had something in our lives that we've always desired to have. Desire is a powerful thing. But have you ever desired something so bad that you lost it ?

For those Unlucky in Love, here's a poetry book exclusively for y'all.

Yet another story of unrequited love, only this time I'm the cause of its unfolding.

"Maybe I'm just a sad person," Gerard sighs. (Disclaimer: I owe nothing but the plot. Title from Pressing Flowers by Sine Cura. Repost from my ao3 http://archiveofourown.org/works/12383274 Comments and feedback are greatly appreciated.)

Just a collection of random thoughts and feelings of mine.

nostalgia // noun: a bittersweet longing for things, persons, situations of the past or love.

Another short poem I have written recently. I wrote this due to heartbreak and sadness; for I wish things could have turned out differently... Copyright © Chloe Gabrielle Hilton 2015

a collection of thoughts that I can't seem to speak out loud

A collection of poems penned by a hopeless romantic who's afraid of commitment.

This isn't a story. This is a letter from myself to myself. Kinda like diary. Here is all of my melancholic thoughts and other dramatic things in my life. I don't have someone to talk about it, so I'm sharing it here. P.S. Nevermind about my grammar okay? English is not my main language. If you have grammar corrections, kindly message me. Thank You. (Started: 1-11-18)

Honestly just a collection of short aesthetics; a mixture of things I've lived and longed for. (Disclaimer: The writing is mine but the cover image came from google. All credit for the cover goes to the original artist.)