Life Isn't an Infomercial
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Are you tired of not having anything to relate to? Well, stop your search now!
That's what I would say if this was an infomercial, but life is not an infomercial. This is a series of poems that I've written in my middle school years (3 years) and a little bit of my grade school years that I can remember. It includes several stories of this spider called Mr. Nibbles, short descriptions of my life and the people in it, along with little things that I've thought of. Please enjoy the story of my life.
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𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐃
I look up at him, his face nothing but a hazy memory. His head is tilted down towards me and I think about how odd it must be for him too. If we kissed, would we find each other's lips? Would it be as natural as breathing? He's mere inches from me and just the presence of his body is suffocating. I don't even have to see his face to know how well he makes my body react. Goosebumps trickling down my arms, and the hairs on the back of my neck rising like sunflowers facing the sun. It's as if I can really see his face. His features and the looks he gives. It's so familiar, so in-tune with me, that I feel like I've always seen it. I can feel his eyes set on me, my figure under his gaze. I can feel the tension in the air and I'm not even sure if I'm breathing. "That necklace around your neck," he scoffs. "What about it?" I ask, my voice low. "I've seen it every single time I've seen you and it drives me insane. It's the one thing I can see below your face." Something clicks into place for me. The puzzle pieces align, and I feel alive. "Then take it off and put your hand there, I can wear that instead," I grin. __ Scarlett Moore. A university student trying to make it past the struggles of life, friends, and a love life labeled hell. But to her aid, a man from her dreams clouds her mind and a little too much of her heart. Every night he visits her, comforting her from a cruel world and harsh realities. The life she lives with him in her sleep becoming a little too real. Just how attached is she to a man who isn't even real? What happens when she can't tell the difference between a memory and a fantasy? __
Into the Velvet
*EDITORS' CHOICE 2021*After falling for her senior year teacher, Louise learns a harsh lesson on what adulthood isn't. Louise has some trauma to unpack. Heartbreak's a bitch, and her first relationship had been anything but normal. Thinking herself mature for her age, her affair with Mr. Cain started swooningly well. Except things ended quite abruptly. It's a lot for a seventeen year old to handle. But who's really at fault for what happened? Who even is Mr. Cain, and what is he hiding? From the wreckage of her naivety and self-esteem, can Louise save her friendships and rebuild herself? Our love songs aren't telling the whole truth. How can this be? In this tale of vulnerability, adolescence and painful reckoning, the arrogance of youth demands a price. * "'You're what, Louise?' he asked. 'You're sorry? What am I supposed to do here? How can I turn this around? How can I tell you that everything you want and feel is reciprocated, when I have to go back to work and pretend none of it happened?' 'I don't know the answer!' I cried. 'Neither of us do.' I threw my hands up in defeat. He caught them before they could fall. 'But how do I go back to living without your words?' His voice became a whisper. He squeezed my fingers tightly, closing his eyes and bringing them to his chest. 'I need how you make me feel, Luiza. I need it to feel alive. I won't stay away. No one's made me feel this good before. And I can't stand myself for wanting what I want. What do I do?' I was a violin bow on the verge of splintering. Every inch of me pulsed with an ache that began from the marrow of my bones. Fate had brought us here. At this crossroads of ours, there were a hundred different choices to make. A thousand different lifetimes to choose from, stemming from and decided entirely by my next choice. And in the end, I chose incorrectly. I held his face between my hands, feeling the echoing pulse of his skin. I brought his face to mine. I kissed him."Complete
𝑀𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠-𝑗ℎ✔️
"That's all it was, just a memory, and that's all it will ever be" We all hold nothing but the faint memories of the last. Whether we choose too or not. Some get discarded and never forgotten, some make us laugh or cry, and some it's nothing more that a soft smile. However, what if you were to get memories from your past life? Not memories of yourself, memories of your soulmate, how do you react? The only thing is, they stop when you found them. When Bell has this struggle throughout the final summer just before her senior year, she handles not as you would expect. Taking the information but doing not much about it. Those memories slowly start to mix in with everyday life till it's nothing new to her. Everything seem to stop when she finally started talking to a fellow classmate. and from there, they start to make there own memories, slowly working there way to the epilogue. (☝︎︎ Idk if I like that yet so it might change:)Complete
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Tears stung my eyes. How does he? Why does he? What's he trying to do? Bring me down? Show people who I am now? How does he know? He knows my name and somehow my story. I can't open my mouth to ask him, to yell at him, I don't even have the strength to pull his hand away from my cheek where he swipes the tears off as tears of his own come into his eyes. His primary coloured eyes which made me feel safe 10 seconds ago until they ricocheted into a deep void of my secrets. "That changes a person, even someone as strong as you." ✖️ "Amy-" {pronounced M-E//emmie} "Are you fucking stupid?" I state turning my head fiercely making sure no one was around to hear. ✖️ If you want a playlist to listen to while reading this fanfic; I chose these songs specifically for this fanfic! https://open.spotify.com/user/aliss-ugh19/playlist/2veNcR7OjVRpQQNwP3FSNJComplete
This book is rated R. Please proceed with caution. This is the more raunchy version of the book. *** We stand in silence, as I sip my water, and he watches me do it. Finally, he breaks the silence. "I'm sorry if I... offended you by sleeping in your bed last night. This morning. Whatever." "It's fine. You didn't do anything." He nods, his eyes far away, as if thinking of how to word his views. "I didn't do anything... but I wanted to. I wanted to so badly." I nearly choke on my water. I don't know what's worse; his confession, or how nonchalantly he says it, as if he's reading the weather. "Come again?" I say, thinking that I must have heard him wrong. He shrugs. "I want to f*ck you." Again, he is as nonchalant as ever. I just stare stupidly, my mouth agape. He closes my mouth, grinning at me, wicked intentions in his eyes. Not so nonchalant anymore, I see. "Um, I-I...I don't..." I stop talking, realising what a total idiot I sound like, while his grin broadens. In that second, I am grateful for my dark skin, as he can't see me blushing. "Tongue-tied?" My cheeks get hotter. "Shut the f*ck up." He actually laughs. "Don't worry, honey," he says, his hot breath brushing against my face, shocking me. When did he get this close? "One day," he whispers, now in my ear,"I will f*ck you." I realise that my eyes are closed and I open them. He's gone. I stand there frozen, in total shock. What the actual f*ck just happened? *** When all you know is disappointment, you become your own best friend. You isolate yourself from everyone else. You need no one; love is a weakness. That's the case with me. Then, Prince Charming rides in and changes everything. Except, he isn't a prince. He is light, but he holds darkness; he is joy, but he knows pain; he is beauty, but within him is imperfection and ugliness. He is just like me, but he is nothing like me.
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