CREATIVE WRITING
"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars." - Oscar Wilde
I am excited to feel the night's hands
brush my hair as I speed past the signs on my cycle I play my favorite band I journey and ride with my eyes wide lonely nights dizzy lights nothing in sight Is how I like to live my life my summer August nights creating myself painting my life
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One day at a time.
Before I was diagnosed with anorexia, I was blind to see what the mirror showed me. My legs and arms were like rotting twigs, ready to snap because I was so cold. My hair fell out constantly, and my skin almost always wore goosebumps, even in the midst of hot July. When I would stand up, I saw galaxies and stars; the blood in my veins rushed to my brain nearly every time. My hands tingled frequently, and my clothes were like parachutes on my shrunken figure. At night, I fell asleep with seven blankets on my back. In the morning, I woke up and ran for miles. In my mind, I knew there was something illogical about what I was doing, but I could not bring myself to admit that I had a problem. The running was every single day. I would get up before school to complete my miles, thinking it was the only way I would be allowed to eat that day. I let anorexia dictate what I wore each day, and I let it ruin countless relationships that mattered to me. However, Ed had the power to terminate my life, my body, and my mentality. I thought I would never get out of my rut; I had figured my lifestyle of incessant running and not eating would be permanent to the end of my life. I was wrong, however, the day I stumbled into Renfrew. After I was discharged from the Renfrew Center for Eating Disorders, a residential campus for individuals who are severely ill and struggling with disordered eating, anxiety, and depression, I felt liberated. My thoughts had shifted from dark to light, and I reshaped myself, literally. I found family in the small community of women at residential who were just as afraid as I was to commence recovery. Nonetheless, the support they provided, as well as the strength from my therapist and nutritionist enabled me to recreate myself. I reflected on gaining weight and realized the weight I was at before was lethal. I discovered new foods I liked and conquered foods that scared me. I found that looking into a mirror was not as scary as it used to be, and I no longer needed IVs or supplement drinks. My body, mind, and soul were healing together, and I was conquering my goals one day at a time. Alter-Ego
Katy Perry wears extravagant wigs and dresses. Her posture and body boast with confidence, and she believes that there is nothing she cannot do. She has multiple tattoos, one of which says Jesus on her left wrist. She is an incredible singer who can claim any stage, make any child’s dreams come true, and befriend anyone who she simply smiles at. Katy Perry is rich, famous, beautiful, empowered, and confident. Almost her entire life has been focused around her career and bettering herself as a musician. A Day in My Life in Katy Perry’s Voice I wake up and look forward to everything that the new day will bring me. The sun warms me and makes me want to wear stilettos and fashionable clothing. I walk downstairs and drink a large cup of caffeinated iced coffee, my pink, sparkly bathrobe clinging to my freshly washed skin. I eat sweets for breakfast, like vanilla yogurt or sticky buns, and I go back upstairs to style myself. On the way to school, I sing along to all of my favorite songs with my mother and continue to sip on my big iced coffee. I walk in and am already laughing as soon as I meet up with my friends. We talk about crazy movies and our busy evenings, and I find jokes in nearly everything. As my classes progress, I will maintain my smile and eat fries at lunch, not caring too much about what work I have in the evening; I know I will get it done. As I leave school for the day and head to football practice, I see my fellow managers running at me with open arms and the jokes start immediately. I drive to WaWa, laughing at something my boyfriend texted me and chatting to my mother about another uneventful day. At WaWa, I glance at all the coffee and feel at home. The workers remember my name and make small talk with me. As day turns to dark, I drive home and collapse on my bed. I strip and put on my pajamas and fuzzy socks with little foxes on them. I giggle at them and start my homework, taking one project one at a time. When I am all done, I read my poetry books and write pages after pages of my own poems. I end the night with Bob’s Burgers and some sweet candy. When I finally lay down, I breathe a pleasant sigh of relief and thank God for his blessings and presence in my life. I was walking quicker than my normal pace; the trees were moving faster with each stride.
I was trying to leave the city without a trace; I knew he would recognize my face and had to keep my pride. Despite the rain and fading lights, I held tight to my chest and damp shirt. My hair was matted to my face from the tears, but I felt the five hundred dollars and was unhurt. My hands were shaking and heart was breaking as I remembered the earrings I stole, too. I want to forget him and how he left me so I took back my gold and gave him my blue. The memories of the smashed window haunted my every thought. I tried to quiet them as I slipped off my pink panties and turned the bath to hot. Steam blurred my mirror and helped me to forget him but every time I closed my eyes, I pictured his arms and his thousands of comforts and sunk lower in the bath with each cry. My dearest sister,
There are little to no words to express the pain I experience with each word that I write. How do I take back the past two years of my life and experience them again, this time right beside you? How do I forgive myself for neglecting your help when you saw my skin slowly deteriorating, my bones weakening, and my skin chilling? How do I express these regrets to you without shedding a tear? I have so many questions for you and, somehow, all I desire is your forgiveness. I knew the second I started to run I would become addicted. I would rush you so I could get home early and finish my infinite exercise. I would watch you eat and love yourself as I quietly loathed you for not caring what others think. It is hard for me to admit, but I am jealous of you in every way, some that you cannot imagine. I put you through hell and back when I was gone for thirty-two days, but you came to visit me nearly every single one I was absent. I am sorry that I could not be there to give you advice through your first love, through your senior year of high school; a year you never thought you would see. I am sorry I was only a ghost in perhaps the greatest year of your life. Instead of walking through Hershey with you, I was walking towards my grave. Instead of eating an ice cream cone with you, I was planning how I would starve myself the following day. Instead of going to school with you, I went to treatment. I am sorry for all the times I told you that I had too much going on to help you. I am sorry for all the little times you thought you meant less to me than my eating disorder; however, I thank you for showing me light. Thank you for helping me remember who I used to be before I was possessed by Ed. Thank you for helping me along the journey to my purpose and for guiding me through the darkest of days. As much as I am sorry for these past two years, I am equally thankful. I love you. Sincerely with love and gratitude, Anna I watched you walk across the room.
The smile on your lips was in full bloom. You were shades of yellow and orange, too. Hot like summer, like my morning brew. But though you were fire, you were bitter. I told you I loved you; you made my stars shimmer. Every time we talked it couldn’t get better. But you threw away my heart and left me at winter. I was frozen in emotion but you cut me open and made me a writer. It was cool outside and the sun was hiding.
The stars were constellating and the moon was circling. I felt my life flashing like a red siren light At the sight of my darling on our new Harley bike. She shone and shimmered like rubies in a chest. I strapped on my helmet and pressed his back to my breast. My hair, a flapping flag, feeling my best. When he bought me that Harley, we drove out to Cali. I love going west. Her skin was rough but perfectly pink.
Her stubby legs made her waddle softly. The sound of her grunt encouraged giggles. But she loved giving kisses and being tickled. She was saved by two lovers, passionate for justice. Their vegan hearts fluttered when she found home in their place. Her snout snuggled up against her new bed. She was tucked in each night jovial and well-fed. There is something about the relationship between human and pig, It is so special to find someone to share a barnyard life with. pumpkin
soft skin falling until this season ends latte hot day takes all my pain away By Anna Novakis Twigs were twisted, turned and tied
Around the rusted, metal cage. A tree hung atop its ceiling wide And leaves were rotted, revealing their age. An enormous tank filled with gas was covered In the dirt of the Earth. It sat quite tranquil, humming lowly and hid Behind the overgrowth. Among the branches that were still alive Grew petite, red berries. They hung low enough that one could just Grab their backs as red as cherries. Inside the cage, it was dark and cool. The ground was tan with dirt and weeds. And though the cage door was opon ajar Not a thing inside it seemed to breathe. Inanimate and silver poles ascended From the ground to the cage’s roof. There were three, as thin as one’s wrist And all appeared sleek and smooth. The ground was like an untamed nest; Leaves of tan, brown, and garnet stuck in the dirt. A slight dance of the breeze brought upon the scent of metal and grassy earth. The cage was untamed like a wild tiger And it was easy to miss. It is no wonder one could slip by it Without a second glance. |
About the author.I love creative writing, especially poetry and short narratives. I hope expand my career as a poet and to always be reading something. Archives
April 2019
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