October 2011
1 post
March 2011
4 posts
Make sure you've read this:...
I was suddenly sheepishly aware of the spider-scrawled revelations across my chest; a hundred sticky silk words spun in the dead of night and fastened by the finest whispers of aurulent-pink thread to my dress. Barely visible in the white columbed dance hall they were now strikingly out of place, illuminated by a single sickly lightbulb dangled precociously above our heads. Once flush with the...
Who's Who
He comes flying through the cupboard door, nearly dismembering a finger in the process. Collapsing with bent knees and flustered breath, he slumps against the door frame, his articulate spine thrusting the full weight of his fragile vertebrae to barricade us in.
It’s little more than a broom cupboard, really. Small and stone-paved, littered with the remains of parties-past: half forgotten,...
1 tag
The ball & (happily ever) after
Where do you walk on sunny times/ When the rivers gleam and the buildings shine/ How do you feel goin’ up hallowed halls/ And the summer clothes brighten gloomy halls
Where do you fit in zzzzip magazine/ Where the past is the hero and the present a queen/ Just tell me right now where do you fit in/ With mud in your eye and a passion for gin /
And they’re all in love.
The thrum of...
You’re a hopeless romantic,” said Faber. “It would be funny if it were not...
– Ray Bradbury (via lunacy)
January 2011
1 post
Dreams
We were in an underground maze of staircases and big brass elevators, forbidden catacombs of selfish territoried staircases beneath the Center.
They can’t see you if you stand still, they’re sensing heat that’s all.
You could use me.
How close can you get without him seeing?
Close enough to kiss
I’m so sorry for being MIA so often. My story isn’t finished yet;...
December 2010
2 posts
heyfionah-deactivated20121012 asked: I haven't been on Tumblr in a while and have missed all your lovely entries! I'm glad I will have something to read over and catch up on. Also I absolutely love the new header. Have a Merry Christmas! x
shewarmstheseas asked: And I have a request from you too. Is there anyway I could get the HTML coding for this layout? It's amazing. I would, of course, leave the credit to you. I'm just looking for a cool layout and this one pretty much blows my mind.
November 2010
39 posts
2 tags
The Box Man
The Box Man knows that loneliness chosen loses its sting and claims no victims. He declares what we all know in the secret passages of our own nights, that although we long for perfect harmony, communion, and blending with another soul, this is a solo voyage. The first half of our lives is spent stubbornly denying it. As children we acquire language to make our selves understood and soon learn...
Anagram
the grass licked at her ankles Fire swayed at her feet The sky swelled up beside her But it was the ocean she breathed
There are too many nonsense words in my mind right now. I need to write everything down and then I’ll get back to my usual stories. (I have so much to say about that party but I don’t even know how to explain it!)
1 tag
The Alabaster Boy
Oyster-slick lotion sat high on his cheek bones where he had tried to heal his wind chapped skin, paper thin and salted with freckles.
Odd for skin that hadn’t seen the sun. (Maybe the light seared through the water like it filters through magnifying glasses to set fire to dry grass on hot summers days; it found its way through the glass sea, reflecting off the pebbles, little dots burning...
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Claret lips on columbine skin, I was that faded, washed out portrait you find crinkled at the bottom of the wash cupboard. Ghost-like and ethereal, like a vision through the fog. White silk, white stitching, white fur, sheer stockings clinging with white-hot static to pale, dove freckled skin. I’ve lined my lips in poppy red and rimmed my eyes in heliotrope.
Oh, and I’m probably...
Ballerina bones
I spent the morning in bed, heaped under a pile of blankets the color of snow. It was an exercise in patience, maybe even tolerance. Wearing nothing but thin négligée embroidered with french knots like a sea of goosebumps over powder white flesh, I buried myself in silky sheets and lay motionless. No squirming to ruffle the covers, causing friction to warm my naked bones. No tucking the covers up...
2 tags
"[Love is] absolutely ephemeral, just like time,...
One can find love in remembered letters, in tender embraces, in shy glances. I think it’s possible to find love and in return have someone requite that love, even if it is only for a short period of time. Just because that sort of love is fleeting doesn’t mean it isn’t powerful, it isn’t true. I think in a way that sort of love is far more true than any other kind, because...
My biggest regret.
He was the first boy I loved absolutely unconditionally, because I was afraid no one else had ever told him how perfect he looked first thing in the morning or how it was sweet when his voice cracked and he grew a full two inches over spring break. I was afraid no one else had told him they loved him, so I decided, for the rest of my life, a part of me always would. I wrote him a letter...
5 tags
Sometimes we love people so much that we have to...
I’ve been cuddled under my duvet play acting like I’m a sleeping bear. It’s winter and I need to hibernate, to build a wall of snow between my fragile body and this frozen world.
I’m in bed sorting through old film and reading my biggest regret ever while ruminating on the meaning of ephemeral love. In my state of hibernation I’m avoiding the answer that will provide...
Experimenting with hand-bound books...
I was thinking that over the holidays I might try to collect some of my silly words in a book of some sort. I’ve looked at blurb and lulu.com but they just aren’t raw enough for what I’m thinking:
textured paper covers in candy bright colors, each one-of-a-kind
aged paper inners printed on heavy-weight parchment (the kind with little lilac remnants and seeds)
illustrations in...
Jaculiferous: having a spine resembling a row of...
He has a back like that, muscular with a tiny row of knots protruding from the vertebrea along his spine. One day we’ll all just be big piles of bones. (I wonder if it will be sooner rather than later.)
Do you ever feel the need to scream at strangers on the street, I love you! because you’re afraid no one else will? We’re forced to abide by the pleasantries and formalities of...
The Sepulchre by the Sea
Can you hear me, over the rain? I feel like one of those spinning-top girls, the ballerinas in glass jewelry boxes who don’t know to start dancing until the lid’s up. (Oh, the thunder’s too loud, I’ve missed my cue.)
These words are coming to you from the library tower, a multifaceted gem of a building, six stories high and made of clear glass alight a tower of stone. We...
Anonymous asked: I'm a little embarassed but that post turned me on. Sorry if that creeps you out but I figure you're so open that you don't mind. I <3 your blog!!
Something.
My heart has a certain essence of secability, it’s my achilles heel. I imagine it’s a paper thin, translucent honey-colored heart. Dripping with opalescent blood like shiny flakes of baklavah in my chest. Sometimes little bees flit by, their senticous tails snagging nerve fibers and popping my cells like bubble wrap. I’m unraveling.
I should probably build a wall. My shaky hands...
Secrets.
I made a last minute to my dress last night, sewing by firelight in my empty room. I selected a passage from the most intimate depths of my journal, a severance of moleskine secrecy, snipped from the binding and sewn in tiny, spider scrawled handwriting across the bodice of my dress.
I chose a peach color, pink if held up to the light but almost invisible, running circles around the chasms where...
Let the wild rompus start
We’re having a little shin-dig at the end of the month. A party before we’re sent home for fall holidays. It’s supposed to be a black and white ball, very formal.
I’m guessing the sophistication will last only a little past ten. Then the halls will fill with a slur of mauraudering, drunken lost boys and their lip stick smeared conquests for the night. There will be vodka...
nonsense november.
There is a sound from behind me and I whirl to see a man in a suit stepping out of the doorway to the stairs rummaging through his pocket to bring forth a small white box. The box contains sticks of poison, one of which he puts between his lips with a practiced motion and ignites with a flame, beginning the slow process of killing himself. I snap a picture of his conscious suicide. Hearing the...
gtbunburywrites asked: It's so refreshing to see another writing-type blog knocking around.
Any authors that particularly inspire you? Or that you like?
Any authors that particularly inspire you? Or that you like?
It's a lazy day and I need another cup of...
We baked a loaf of french bread in the oven today, it’s soft and warm like little clouds of flour and melted butter under my tongue. I’m sorry for not posting more of my story, I wanted to fool around with making a layout (or at least trying to). I have lots of questions in my ask box to catch up but you’ll have to wait a little longer, please.
when i was little i thought applause and...
I want to press my palms against his and compare the weight of our hands and trace the crevices upon them with the pads of my little finger. I want to run my fingers quick across his stomach, skimming his belly button to see if it tickles (if he sucks the air in through his teeth, in a sharp shuddering motion like I do as if a feather passed across my skin). I want to give him goosebumps, to make...
1 tag
Of Mice and Men, Lies and Lollipops
“God damn you, Anna! Such a rascal!” She feigned disgust, contorting the smooth lines of her face into a mock sneer. Mocking Tom. “So tell me then,” she gushed insincerely, gesticulating like a southern beauty queen, hands clutching her heart, “What do you love about him?”
“You’re putting words into my mouth, ellem.” I snapped the thin...
Olive You
“That wasn’t twenty questions,” I stirred uncomfortably from my cross-legged position on the foot of Louisa’s bed. Her probing was unsettling but left to my own devices my thoughts were worse.
“I didn’t need that many.” She raised an eyebrow, tearing at the wrapper of another sweet with her teeth.
It was raining again, every time lightning illuminated...
20 Questions
LMNO: Animal, mineral, vegetable, boy? Anna: Boy. She swirled a striped lolli across her tongue, lips stained pineapple yellow. “And is this boy…” “Louisa! I don’t know what to say, I don’t want to give you the wrong idea about this. I wouldn’t have said anything at all except—” “Question two.” LMNO: When you look at him—I...
30 Seconds to Mars (Bars)
“Oui, Madame Lennard. Je mange beaucoup!” Lousia collapsed onto her bed, arms brimming with bundles of sweets. “Dish!” She ordered, mouth already full of crisp. She chewed vehemently, impatient with my reluctancy.
“Ijustwanttoknow,” my words came as a blur, one continuous string of uncertainty.
She began flinging m&ms at my forehead, free hand...
heyfionah-deactivated20121012 asked: If you ever write a book I would love to read it.
Curiosity killed the cat.
I was just looking.
Sneaking glances from under the cover of my lashes: a little foliage curtain of sooty black thistle shielding curious brown eyes. I was uncomfortably aware of my face for someone trying to be nondescript: were my lips too loose? Too pursed like I was imagining him kissing me? (I was.) Did my eyes flutter casually from the pages of my book or was it forced, too obviously did...
J'éspère de pouvoir rêver de toi...
(Part II, please refer to the post below so you aren’t lost. I’m sorry that these words seem sloppy, I wrote them half asleep and it feels funny to revise them. Like I’d rather not even read these whispers that admit that I’m— ?)
So the rain would stop and my sleepiness would fade, the flush of my neck would pale and the pulsing heart would slow to a...
3 tags
"Dreams feel real while we're in them. It's only...
A train had hit me. The Kick. “By upsetting the equilibrium of a dreamer you can wake them from a dream and return them to reality.”
My head was buzzing and my lips felt soft like I’d been kissed by little moth wings in my dreams. My hair a mess of tangles, clenched and curled by lovers’ hands. I could imagine it fanned around my pale face like the crown of great Ra, a...
2 tags
Tin Soldiers In My Dreams (Part Two)
We were back in the lower common room, just the two of us. It was raining inside, fat crocodile tear raindrops of comical proportions. Each a perfectly shaped tear, almost icicles in form; crashing to the floor unbroken where they gathered like the remnants of a fallen chandelier. He kissed me wildly and we crumpled, limbs intertwined like clumsy rag-dolls. Falling head over heels over hands over...
Tin Soldiers Marching on a Tin Roof (Part One)
For context’s sake I feel I should describe where I am right now.
I’m huddled under a duvet the color of snow, with the exception of one tear I’ve patched with cadmium-yellow embroidery thread to stop the little feathers from bursting at the seams. My feet are tangled amongst my sheets and my sweater’s bunched up around my ribcage, leaving my stomach naked and cold....
2 tags
Pyromania Transylvania
LMNOP. I traced my fingers along the curves, endless looping oooooooooos, characters dancing across the wall behind her headboard like renegade figures from her dreams.
Louisa sat cross legged on the trunk at the base of the wooden bed. Her hands rested her chin, cupped in dainty fingers, nails painted jelly-bean teal with flecks of white like a robin’s egg. She started transfixed, her...
2 tags
Spanish Moss L(MNO)it Society
I had a dream that sharp, circular waves like the patterns on Bea Szenfeld’s costumes were breaking upon the shore. They kept cutting my feet and leaving indentations like half-crescent bite marks on my ankles. Only five of my toes were painted, stained blood red against the dusty beach. I remember being afraid my other toes would be lost amongst the sand.
There was a boy with me. Freckled and...
7 tags
"Thinking that if people were rain, I was drizzle...
Usually I’m whispers and sepia and boring and bland, a pressed flower fading between the binding of someone else’s story. Just waiting.
So this time I was braver. She caught me staring, I didn’t have much of a choice.
We had taken shelter in the lower common room, traipsing through the rain-sodden masses to drip dry by the fire, the cuffs of our jeans soiled from puddle...
1 tag
The Palindrome Girl
“And you, Anna. Anna Darling, America’s Darling. The doe-eyed, ash-coiffed girl with aspirations of being…what exactly?”
“Brave.”
1 tag
Kamikaze
Crowds are disorienting to me. Like tidal waves or strong winds they sweep you like dust along the floor boards: falling into cracks, along crevices, brushing against the paint chipped walls and bumping along never ending corridors. (Or bumping into…)
I placed my hand on his chest to steady myself, catching it beneath his breast bone, the warm hollow between my fingers his heart. I feigned...
1 tag
Anne-atomy.
The Anatomy of An Aguamala (And other heartless things)…
Firsts.
First love, first kiss, first post: they make my heart beat faster. Since I can’t think of a meaningful way to begin this story, we’ll start with the etymology of my blog’s name.
The “An[n]a” of Anatomy, is my name. I chose the study as my blog’s namesake because within these posts...