Free Hand #34

Alina H. Hansen Writer & Poet

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

Free Hand #33

Alina H. Hansen Writer & Poet

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

Isolation: Flash Fiction Series #6

Alina H. Hansen Writer & Poet

Isolation

by

Alina Happy Hansen

 

Alone and unloved, she sits in a room that is pale and plain just like her. The window lets the sun in, trickling across the floor, across the wall until it vanishes each night from sight. There are movements and sounds coming from the rest of the house, voices seep through the walls. The other women’s howls slice through the silence. Rooms become cages to keep in the hysteria and pain. The room is her tomb where she waits for her family, sitting there in a chair, staring out the window into the sun.

 

Inspired by The Yellow Wallpaper , horrible stories of Asylums and women being treated for ‘Hysteria‘. 

 

 

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