Playlist: Depressed Song: Unseen by Katie Armiger The Wrong Attention Blindfolded by your own stupidity. Outstretched hands groping for answers. Glass between us. Hand to hand, but not touching. Bulletproof, shatterproof, soundproof, thick, but thin and you slide down that glass wall and passed through it easily into another’s arms. Am I so unworthy? Should…
Author: littlegentian
I suck at "about me" summaries. I have an MFA in Creative Writing and I love to write. I used to sling coffee for a living, but now I am an administrative assistant. I am the friend who wanders around the world with little to no filters and blurts out every funny story idea that comes to me, but if I don't write them down immediately I forget. I can make almost anything sexual. I love reading Scorpio stereotypes.
Twitter: @mimiscorpion
Tumblr: deviousscorpionangel.tumblr.com
Instagram: michelle.austin29
Sing for the Next Life, Sing for this Life
Originally posted on capital2apple:
Dear Libby, Today I did something I have not done since we lived under the same roof. I sang while doing the dishes. There was no music. The audience was limited to the cats and kitchen appliances. All were kind as the words of my favorite songs slowly rose from…
Nap Time Corner
That corner over there is the nap time corner. Four people with their eyes closed trying to catch a few more moments of rest before they have to rush rush rush around all day. Maybe one of them is actually heading home having worked all night and is pre-empting sleep, giving hirself a little preview…
Here’s the Deal
Hello Everyone! I am sure some of you were blown away by the past week where I posted almost every day, barring Saturday and Sunday. So let me tell you what you have to look forward to. I am going to post every day for the foreseeable future. If I miss a post, I double/triple/quadruple…
Come Talk to Me
Hi Everyone! Today is officially Questions and Requests Day! If you have any questions regarding a piece, me (within reason), my writing process, or pretty much anything, today is the day to ask it! If you read something you liked and wanted to see more of it or had an idea and want to see…
Dear Bitchy Prudes
Dear Bitchy Prudes, It’s none of your damn business if my breasts “pop” out of my dress. I do not appreciate your concern and I do not need it. I know my limits and I very rarely exceed them. If my boobs do happen to “pop” out – too fucking bad. It’s not like…
Playlist 4 – Depressed [End] Prose Poem
Armor Your Love I caught your ‘sorry.’ Am tangles in a moon girl. I’m low, not that there’s love. You miss quiet, I left unseen. You love the fall, it’s so much you. Love makes. I cry in you, he could love still – who’s the way? With years in time, first ashes to you,…
Grey Days
Originally posted on capital2apple:
Dear Jane, It has been a while since I last heard from you, but please feel no pressure to respond immediately. I know that you are very busy down in the Capital. It has been rather dreary and damp up here in NYC. This makes it hard to pry my…
Thinking
What is she thinking about, biting her lip like that? What is playing in her headphones? Her green-blue eyes flick back and forth as she watches things flash by outside. She leans on the bar with one hand, standing on one foot, her other foot resting on its toe. Brown leather boots with a slight…
The C [in NYC] Stands for Cynic
I have been told many times that romance novels give women unrealistic expectations for sex, for relationships, for life in general, etc., and I can agree with that on some level. It’s not that I ever thought that sex was going to be how it is in romance novels. I understand the myth/fantasy/rarity of the…
Playlist 9 – Impressions, D26
Playlist: Depressed Song 26: She Will Be Loved by Maroon 5 Broken She comes to him every time stiff, unyielding, sharp, and aloof. She is glass and ice, and rusted nails and jagged metal edges. She comes to him with marble eyes that slide away from his, razors for cheekbones, and poison for lipstick. She…
The Runner
He’s leaning forward like a runner at the start line. Ready to bolt, right hand braced on his leg, left elbow propped on the other, his chin in his hand. He’s wearing big, clunky work boots that would make running difficult. A red backpack and canon camera hang off one arm. Deep-set eyes in a…
Little Gentian 