Writer in San Francisco, CA
I’m feeling experimental today. Here’s some gibberish.
Blood begins to stain, colors seeping
into skin, from the pain. And I kiss
the midnight hour, in hopes the sun
won’t ever rise. Where is the end?
Light burns, and I’m all alone here.
If you are reading this Thank You for taking time out of your day to read my writing!
I hope you will return in the future!
-Alina
Moss gathers and the trees grow.
Under the pale blue sky. In the summer time,
the heart flows upwards and over into
the mouth, into the body. How my mind keeps
spinning, talking, creeping until words
are strained, weakened and colorless.
There under the trees, laying flat on my back
I wait for the worms to eat me up.
My words to become soft echoes in the forest.
If you are reading this Thank You for taking time out of your day to read my writing!
I hope that you will return in the future!
-Alina
I spoke words, that dripped
and dewed across your head.
As you laid there, waiting for
the sun to rise, waiting
for me to leave your side.
The words they gathered,
till you were slick and
wet, crystallized and
waiting, waiting, waiting.
If you are reading this thank you for taking time out of your day to read my writing!
I hope that you will return in the future!
-Alina
The sky buckles under the pressure
space pulls us into a void. Sun envelops
itself, swells and becomes something
grander, something dark. An eternal
abyss to swallow us whole.
If you are reading this thank you for taking time out of your day to read my writing!
I hope you will return in the future!
-Alina
Books stacked high. The pages slip out,
slip through, into the the room, piling
up on the floor, the bed, every surface.
Until there are words everywhere.
If you are reading this Thank You for taking time out of your day to read my writing!
I hope that you will return in the future!
-Alina