I want to climb into the lap of my rapist father. Novella. Complete.

Gallagher and Frankie, the anarchist and literary deadbeat, got on like a house on fire.

A twisted fairy tale. Based on the story of The Nutcracker, this is a bloody tale of oddity, illusion, insanity, love, and deep, dark secrets. Rated for strong sexual themes and heavy violence.

My take on Virginia Woolf's suicide. All italicized lines are from her actual suicide note, except for those posing as dialogue.

and not the infinite expanse of darkness.

and the emptinesss inside something like this

She wanted the fairy tale. She wanted the chick flick. She wanted the soaring music, the dozen roses, the Princess Bride kiss-to-end-all-kisses. She wanted the cliché. It’s a pity she was so busy up in the clouds that she didn’t recognize it when it came.

New York City, population: 8 million. It's easy to lose faces in a crowd. These are the stories of those lost faces.

Cass Gudiashvili is a bright and nerdy college girl who's cheating on her boyfriend and drinking far too much. She wants to change her pattern of self-destruction, but can't until she's drunk, soaked and lost with a pretentious tattooer she's fallen for.

He first sees her from a second-floor window, when she's just a smudge of white against the asphalt. Chalk, he thinks. She doesn't look any more permanent than that.

Teagan Calder doesn't believe in soulmates. They're just a myth propagated by the Council, another way to pretend humans aren't inferior. And if hers finds out what she is, it's more than just a headache -- it's a death sentence. DISCONTINUED.

and this is all just a game i just can't play

tell me why you're still trying, tell me why you're still trying. REMOVED.

waves

i've never quite said it like this before. series

Pen is not earth mother. And the boy is not gentle. But he is lovely and broken and if she could stop being a chickenshit she could call him up and ask him to take her to Casablanca. This is how the world begins.

In a heartbeat, she was lost.

Hello. My name is Rosie. I'm a boring, dead inside emotional wreck, living in a boring village filled with lunatics. The only colourful things in my life are the boy I don't know and the soundtrack I stole. Life is good. Complete! - REMOVED

She has never loved him. Not really.

I see pictures of you now; with aviators hiding your eyes, a can of beer in one hand, a girl in the other. And I can’t seem to figure out how I ever fit in with your life. one-shot

He wrote his music on the walls of the subway, and she was the only one to take notice. Against her better judgement, she fell in love with both the music... and the composer. But he had a secret that she wasn't ready to accept. Complete.

what happens when the lights go out? [haiku]

One day, a girl and a boy fell in love without realizing it.

Oneshot. He gave me butterflies while most boys made me want to run away.

Maestro, I have reshaped my mouth for you. I have laid upon the earth as a girl vulgarized. Grown into a woman customized to embody your song.

She'd do anything, absolutely anything, to be happy. And him? He just doesn't like to be in control. ficathon challenge

it's the number i hate, the hours i can't sleep away. one day. one year. you are everything, but you don't know how tangled i still am. REMOVED.

He wished he could say sorry for things he couldn't apologize for. A shittyass van, a long drive, and the people they picked up. Maybe there was someone yet to change his mind about the world. Or maybe he was meant to change hers. OneShot.

i will read my poetry to this boy and then tell him i didn’t write it. this boy won’t believe me. this boy will let me write poems on his arm. this boy’s body will be my notebook.

One-shot. You’re a whore trapped inside of a good-girl’s body.

A story of loneliness and acceptance, or something like it.

little boy blue with his fashionable addictions

[Rated for language, Short story] She's a typical bleeding heart, so when a suicidally depressed, foulmouthed, unpleasant mancreature shows up at her doorstep for shelter, it isn't like she has much choice but to take him in. Written entirely in dialogue

maybe we don’t mesh well together, but at night when we’re both naked, sweaty, and searching for breath, i swear we become one.

everyone said i was too beautiful for you.

One-shot. We were best friends. Now you're trash. I'm sorry.

it's not too late to give in, angel. REMOVED.

promise rings.

and I wish…i could pluck the stars from the sky and give you a miracle but i'm afraid you'll get the wrong idea and break them into pieces before swallowing them whole.

cloud nine only one ninety five.

rape b l e e d s poetry like shame & angst & rage. pick up the pieces, dear. i hope you cut your fingers on my edge. REMOVED.

it's illegal to fuck with the dead, you know

"We are adults and we do not cry. We pay our bar tabs, we leave in separate cars, we go to work the next morning, and we fuck someone else meaninglessly, we get on with our lives"

When I'm trapped here, fading in and out of reality ... there's always something that brings back you. one-shot. REMOVED.

Complete Because a part of me always wanted to be tall, blonde, and winged.

It's about music, love, and sex, and death, I think...

There was a boy. And this is his story. And it is mine too. You see. I knew him. Very well.

her sharp eyes shunned the world, except for that dusty, used bookstore in which she wandered, her calloused hands dancing on the shelves, inhaling the history and ancient magic of such a place. and then there was the beautiful stranger...

I am his now. I am moulded to fit him. People say you never forget your first.