The corner of my imagination
Saturday morning taste like scrambled eggs with tomatoes and red onions. It crunches deliciously in your mouth and brings a smile full of content to your lips. 49 more words
1 month, 4 weeks
I opened the door to our apartment and what did I see first? Flowers, flower petals to be precise. Roses. Strewn on the floor. Seriously? Rose petals on the floor? 50 more words
To speak is very meak when you do it with a tick that sits in your slick wick of a hair.
It is incredibly icky to pick insightful inglorious and tricky images of mockery and pity.
The first person I loved reminds me of the deep blue colour, the smell of lily of the valley, the sound of a deep, husky voice, and the taste of novelty and broken inhibitions.
A long time ago, before I had breasts, sense and sensibility, I dreamed I would go to a fantasy land and become fairy princess. I never imagined life as a dire space filled with hurt and ugliness. 27 more words