My Poetry

AmethysT

Amethyst; that was her name, and that was the shade of her strut. She’d float down the sidewalk like an apparition, in high-heels sharp like the corners of counters, and force the smell of manually-mashed passionfruit to mingle with the cool air. Click, clack. Click, clack. The heels. Left, right. Left, right. The eyes. She… Continue reading AmethysT

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My Poetry, Short Stories

Death and Decaying.

First, she lost the waves of strawberry blonde that ended at her waist. Then she lost her mouthwatering skin, a bright and throbbing red like a bed of ripe and ready strawberries in a strawberry field. She used to have a tasty, round figure that everyone would drool over, but now she’s dry, with off-black… Continue reading Death and Decaying.