BitterTruth's profile
AGE:
28
LAST LOGIN: November 11
LAST LOGIN: November 11
I’m a disillusioned 26-year-old who is tired of being kicked when down. I write to get feelings out, good and bad. I have a tendency to feel whatever emotion to extremes, and I hate writing dialogue. Scenes are my thing; the atmosphere is the most important thing to me, words among people are merely by-products and sometimes necessary.
I’m not the best writer, but I’m working hard it. I want to create my own voice, my own style; copying other people’s style isn’t my thing.
Anything else doesn’t matter much. Who I am isn’t as important as what I write.
Items
Version 1
9 Reviews
3 Comments
He tasted of danger and sin. This was the man that could curl her toes; leave her breathless, and willing to beg for more. She would drop all pretensions for a taste. She knew he was aware; used it to his advantage when it suited. She simply didn’t care; her addiction wouldn’t allow it. She would kiss and lick from head to toe with stops in between. She would use every trick, ones that made most men jelly-legged, but he seemed to be immune. Only his in the middle of the night; he was gone bef...
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This read more like a letter to a lover than a poem, but I liked it. We've all loved and lost someone in the past. We're never fully safe from the heartbreak of being left behind when the other person moves on. "Weather you still care for me or not, your her special someone now and I'll have to move on..." That should be "Whether you still care for me or not, you're her someone special now and I'll have to move on..."
I do like the fact you have given images to words you say. Even if I do not agree wholeheartedly, there are definite resonance in the impassioned plea for Americans to wake up and realize what is important and to remember what made us. We are strong, but fallible. Falling through complacency. Or that was what I read from your speech. Perhaps writing it in paragraph form to make it easier to read and not break up the clear visual images.
I love the reaction of the nun to the friar's feverish questioning. And the Mother Superior's book is fabulous. The writing is very satirical with some kernels of truth. Who hasn't wondered what the nun wears underneath? Is it jeans, a t-shirt, and funny socks or a too long gown? The pacing is on point and I'd love to know nuns reaction after the friar is run out.
Oh, I love this. The way she leaves bits of herself, to not understand the human parts of her and how she finally did what he wanted and missed out because it all too much. Poor fragile thing. I do wonder about the origins of her glass. Is that normal? Or is she special? Does she break off her breasts in anger? There's so much to explore in this short. I love it. I'd love a series of these, or a follow up. This story felt like a modern fairy tale. I'm sorry it took me so long to get back sinc...
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