Archives for posts with tag: literature

A tiny trickle of tears was slowly trailing down her rouged cheeks, leaving a salty wet path behind.

She lifted a hand to wipe away the evidence of her pain but a sob soon ripped itself from her throat and the tiny trickle became a stream. Hearing footsteps from somewhere to her left, her head snapped up. Knowing her eyes to be red and her face to be puffy from her breakdown, she cringed at the sight of a lone figure walking towards her.

She wrapped her arms around her waist instinctively and turned her face down, hoping her hood would hide her tear-stained face. Feeling naked and vulnerable at the abrupt invasion of her alone time, she waited for the steps to pass her.

But they didn’t.

Risking a glance up, her emerald orbs connected with icy grey ones. She inwardly shuddered in shame at the sympathy on the stranger’s face but couldn’t avert her gaze. He silently sat next to her, his company inexplicably comforting. He did not speak to her and he did not make any attempt to openly sooth her, and yet her tears tapered off.

Her eyes sought out his face beside her and noted how the soft glow of the moonlight reflected beautifully off his platinum hair. He glanced back and smiled, the left side of his face lifting up just slightly more than the right.

Her breath hitched in her throat and she smiled back.

As silently and suddenly as he’d arrived, he stood up and left. A shiver that had nothing to do with the night’s cool air shuddered through her and she was left wondering why that seemingly insignificant encounter felt so significant.

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Everyone told me that love hurts.┬áBut I think they’re wrong.

Love can lead to hurt, sure. Because love can lead to rejection and loss. They hurt… but love does not hurt.

Love lifts you and revives you. It fills you with joy and happiness. Love numbs the pain that life can inflict on you. The comfort felt from a lover’s soft embrace is matched by very little else in this world.

Love can provide excitement, tenderness and a feeling of belonging.

I understand where the confusion can come from, because to love is to be vulnerable. To put your love out into the world and not have it returned can crush a person. But to love and be loved back… there’s no better feeling.

Love never hurts you but the absence of it will. To live without love is no life worth living.

Pure love is beautiful. Imagine that happy giggle that can only be provoked by the sheer giddiness of love. Imagine that feeling of absolute belonging when enveloped in your loved one’s arms. Imagine the joy you feel at the sight of their smile.

Bitterness can set in once love leaves your life, though. It’s easy to blame the concept of love rather than those we give our love. Someone who doesn’t know how to love you can hurt you, and someone who abuses your love can hurt you.

But love? No. Love is possibly the only thing in this world that will never hurt.

Do you ever wonder
Who stole the light from her eyes?
Do you ever think about
Who fed her all those lies?

They told her beauty
Was being skin and bones
They tried to make her
Like the rest of society’s clones

Don’t eat this
And don’t eat that
Because who would love
Someone who’s fat?

Paint yourself perfect
Put on a show
But make in look natural
Don’t let them know

They told her to be confident
But also modest and shy
Shoot for the stars
But don’t aim too high

Ambition is good
But only in small amounts
If you want to be a leader
They’ll call you bossy by all accounts

They said be smart
But don’t be a genius
She finally starts to realise
It’s all rather tedious

Perfection is impossible
And massively overrated
But to this life
She was always fated

They pushed her inside a box
And told her who to be
She thought she had a choice
She thought that she was free

But they trained her
All through her life
They made her live
Through all that strife

Nightmares aren’t just
A part of her sleep
She lives in one
She lurks in it deep

And they’ll do it again
To the next little girl
The same story
Will once again unfurl

Are you wondering
How we stop it occurring?
Do you hope
That a change is stirring?

Encourage positivity
And teach resilience
You’d be surprised
How much it makes a difference

Give praise
Where praise is due
Not just for results
But for effort too

Model body acceptance
And don’t define her by her looks
Because other things are important too
Like sports and music and books

Let her know that
Being different is ok
Let her find herself
In her own way

Hopefully this advice
Will help the next little girl
Find happiness
In this big scary world

I want to be
Where I can I fly
Where I can touch the sky
And be tickled by the clouds
Soaring above the ocean

Raindrops whisper to me
As they fall to the water below
Thunder faces me
Wind embraces me
I start to slow

Fields of crystal flowers
That sparkle, shimmer and shine
In this world of mine
This beautiful world
And all its wonders

Time stands still
But I do not
I run wild and free
There is so much to see
But I begin to wake

Reality screams my name
But I shy away from its call
Let me stay
Don’t take me away
Surely its still nightfall?

Let me stay
In this beautiful dream of mine
My sleeping refuge
I built this world to save me from
Life’s depressing deluge

My eyes peek through their lids
Light floods my vision
Through my memory, my mind digs
Recalling my night’s adventures
With precision

A few more hours
I must wait
Through my dreamland’s gate
I will once again cross
Oh how I long for my deep sleep

Sand tickled her bare feet as she waltzed across the beach like a performer on the dance floor. Arms in the air, she spun and spiralled along the line where the ocean met the land, as careful as if she was walking on a high-wire in a circus.

Unperturbed by the pull of the wind against her tangled, honey-blonde hair, and the tug of the cool salt water against her toes, she was lost to the world around her. Lost to her troubles and fears.

A low chuckle rumbled from the man trailing behind her. The girl turned and gazed into the eyes of the man she loved and would always love. His sapphire eyes could rival the ocean for their beauty and depth. Her lips turned up in a smile that was mirrored on the man’s untroubled face. A smile could translate love better than words ever could. A smile was all they needed to express the intensity of their emotions.

Grabbing the hand offered to her, she pulled her lover into her embrace, fingers laced into his golden hair. She pulled comfort from his touch and happiness from his warmth. A hum of contentment resounded from her throat, and floated away on the ocean’s breeze, quickly stifled by the gentle crash of waves and the sharp cries of gulls circling gracefully above.

Pulling back, the man placed his hand gently to her rouged cheek, and she fell willingly into the contact. His hand was rough but his touch was tender and she loved him. She most definitely loved him.

There were flashes as she fell, tumbling slowly towards emptiness.

A single, slender figure, oblivious to what was happening, was falling.

Encased in darkness, a single bright blue light offered the only escape from the constricting blackness of her surroundings. The little blue light zipped around, always tantalisingly out of reach, but never straying too far.

The girl did not know what the light was. She did not know what the darkness was. She did not know where she was. But she knew she was falling.

Suddenly, the hard ground met the girl’s fragile body, though she felt not a pinch of pain. Rising slowly from the cold floor, she came face to face with a cheerful, tiny figure. Hovering in the air, it flew closer, it’s soft wings tickling her cheek. A bird.

But birds didn’t glow. But, despite the impossibility of the situation, the little bird with a snow white chest and a sparkling sapphire body was, indeed, glowing. It’s body flashed brightly and fiercely, like lightning. It settled on her shoulder, nuzzling her neck like a long lost friend, and the little girl felt a faint familiarity with the situation. Had she been here before?

But that question led to a more pressing conundrum: where was she?

Although her little feathered companion provided a small amount of light, the dark extinguished it a mere metre from the creature’s frail body. Gentle chirps were the only sound to break the deafening silence.

Where had she come from? Vague memories of an almost forgotten life flew fleetingly through her mind. Faces of people, no longer recognisable, faded from her memory. What was happening?

Resisting the temptation to give in to the fear and dread crawling through her body like a fleet of carnivorous insects, she braces herself. A break down was not what the situation needed. She needed to keep her calm.

As if sensing her distress, the little lightning bird chirped comfortingly, and brushed a tear the girl didn’t even know she’d shed from her cheek. Though she remembered little from her past, she was sure this behaviour wasn’t typical of birds.

Confusion settled over her again, clouding her thoughts. The confusion led to frustration and the frustration led to uncontrollable despair.

Needing to do something, anything, to escape the darkness that clung to her like moss, she began to step forwards, not caring where she was going, as long as it would relieve her from this mysterious place.  But without being able to judge her surroundings, she tripped on an unseen rock and fell against the rough expanse below her.

Another tear escaped and rolled silently down her pale cheek. She wiped it away slowly.

She climbed slowly to her feet again, determination filling her. She would escape, and she would discover what happened to her.

Her little winged friend hovered in front of her, then turned and flew away. Following her instincts, the girl followed, careful of the uneven ground under her feet.

She stumbled a few times, but her lightning bird waited. She wondered idly what she did for her life to come to a time with her trusting a flashing bird to guide her through a murky expanse to what she could only hope was a safe place. Without any other choice though, she trudged on.

It came to a time when the girl did not remember what it was like to see things through her own eyes. She forgot what light was, and what colour was. Well, all except for blue.

But slowly the glow of the bird began to fade. Or was it the darkness that was fading?

As the black around her became a little bit less black, and as the ground below her became slowly more visible, the girl stepped out of the darkness into a world unlike that of her wildest imagination.

Waterfalls and trees that reached to the heavens above, pink fairies and horned butterflies. Was this death? No, this place was far too alive to be a place of death.

A unicorn with eyes of ocean blue and hair blacker than the night galloped past, and filled the girl with a sense of serenity.

That strange feeling of familiarity returned. Somehow, she knew this place. Somehow, she knew she was home.

Once upon a time a little girl fell in love with books. That little girl was me.

Books can transport you to new worlds; they can introduce you to life and love. Books are portals to unknown lands and imaginary worlds. Books are comforting and exciting; engaging and terrifying; beautiful and overwhelming. Books are books, and I love them.

If you’re reading this blog, then I’m guessing you love books too, so I expect we’ll get along. I’ve never written a blog before, but I’d love for my writing to reach out to new people and hopefully invite more people into the world of words.

I’m going to be using this blog to share some of my own words: short stories, poems and more, and I hope you all love reading them as much as I love writing them.

I’d say reading is a hobby but it’s more like an obsession. Nothing can beat the thrill of turning a page into a new world, a world unlike any other, with characters you’ve never met before. I think it’s beautiful how emotions can be encouraged in people with a few choice words and phrases, and how easily you can become attached to a name on a page, to the life of someone in a story.

You can find adventure, hope and happiness between the bindings of a book.

And I think that it’s incredible how people can become linked with a shared love for this literary life.

It was my love for reading that naturally led me to my love for writing. Being able to create whatever your inspiration can invent is incredibly liberating. Your only limit is your imagination.

So maintain your passion for the poems and your rapture for the written word.

I look forward to sharing my love of literature with you again soon.